Gemini Rising

 

By Silk

 

Part 4-R

 

Jim panted. The urge to possess was almost overpowering. Still, he bit it back. He'd had entirely too much practice doing just that sort of thing over the past four years.

 

"What do you know about this...this job, Chief?"

 

Blair sighed at the change in topic. So near...and yet so far. "I know what I'm doing, Jim. I resent what you're implying, man. It's so unfair."

 

"Then tell me. How did you find out about it?"

 

"Not that it matters, Jim, but.... Okay, I was tutoring one of my Anthro 101 students, and when I brought him up to a passing grade, the kid was so damn grateful, he invited me home for dinner."

 

Jim looked wary. "This kind of thing really happens to you, doesn't it, Chief?"

 

"*Some* people appreciate me, Jim," Blair replied with a trace of bitterness, insinuating that Jim didn't.

 

"Then what, Mother Teresa?"

 

Blair rolled his eyes. "His parents were grateful, too, Jim."

 

"How grateful, Chief?" Yeah, how fucking grateful?

 

"His father offered me a job."

 

"Who's his father?"

 

"Nolan Emory."

 

"Shit."

 

"Yeah," Blair chuckled. "That was my reaction, too. He owns the biggest fucking corporation in the U.S."

 

"So what's a head honcho for a major widget maker want with an anthropologist?"

 

"He says I can pick my own project, Jim. He says whatever I want, he'll get it for me, and...."

 

"And what, Chief?"

 

"He says that he'll underwrite my research, my expeditions. Anything, Jim. He says he'll give me anything."

 

"In return for what exactly, Chief?"

 

"What's that supposed to mean, Jim?"

 

"Well, forgive me for caring, Chief, but you don't seem to have any grasp of the actual details of what he wants from you. In return for his very fine money, of course."

 

"It's not about money, Jim. You know me better than that."

 

"I thought I did, Chief." You said it was about friendship, Chief. What happened to us then?

 

Blair's vivid blue eyes flared for a moment before narrowing in on Jim's face. "Are you trying to piss me off, Jim? Or do you have an actual point here?"

 

"Just that-well, what do you really know about this guy? Besides the fact that he's richer than God. Nobody gives anything for nothing, Chief. Nobody."

 

Blair shook his head, his long dark curls bouncing back and forth, seemingly keeping time with the increasingly erratic rhythm of his heart. "Y'know, it must be scary in your world, Jim. All alone. No one to depend on. Except yourself." Blair spoke so softly, it was easy to forget just how angry he was moments before.

 

"I depend on you, Chief," Jim whispered, making it sound more like a vow than a simple statement of fact. And now you're taking yourself away. Just when I realized that I-

 

--shit! How come I can hear the words inside my head, but I can't-

 

Fear-based responses. Wasn't that the phrase that Blair used to describe Jim's raison d'etre? Fear. It was what drove Jim. It was what kept him locked up deep inside himself.

 

But Christ, Chief, you've got the fucking key! Don't you know that? Use it! Please.... Before I fucking give up.

 

It is scary in my world, Chief. Come on inside. So I don't have to be alone anymore.

 

Blair reached out then, as Jim had prayed he would. Wasn't that Blair all over? He knew what Jim needed...and he always found a way to give it to him. Blair's fingers touched the side of Jim's face, and Jim closed his eyes. For a moment, he was so afraid to look away, he thought Blair might use Jim's momentary disadvantage to disappear.

 

Blair's finger traced a path across Jim's lips. The gesture seemed inordinately intimate between the two men, and yet...it was not. The tip of Jim's tongue flicked out to taste the tip of Blair's finger, provoking a small gasp from the younger man. Surprise? Desire? Maybe a little of both.

 

It was slow seduction, and Blair couldn't help but wonder if it was merely another way for Jim to keep him there. It was obvious that Jim didn't want Blair to leave. Blair was a trained observer, and he recognized a good attempt at misdirection when he saw one.

 

How many times had he used the same technique himself? On Jim? To prevent him from guessing...well, which way the wind blew. But this? Coming from Jim?

 

Show me how much you want this, Jim. If you can't fucking tell me, show me. Show me, dammit.

 

Jim's eyes looked slumberous as they slid shut of their own volition. Slowly, oh so slowly, he drifted closer to Blair, his head bent at the exact right angle to claim his mouth.

 

Do it, do it, do it, Blair's inner voice was virtually screaming.

 

Then the phone rang.

 

Jim's eyes flew open, the faint beginnings of a flush staining his cheeks dark red. Blair swore. "Jim! Don't answer it, man! Let the machine pick it up! This is-"

 

Jim was gone.

 

--way more important, man, Blair finished inside his head.

 

Part 5