Author/pseudonym: Silk
Email address: silkn1@worldnet.att.net
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Jim/Blair
Date: 3/21/01
Category: Plot What Plot, First Times
Author's website: https://www.angelfire.com/ny4/tinsel/
Disclaimer: All things Sentinel belong to PetFly and Paramount. Not me. No
money being made either. Though if I had a nickel for every time Jim was this
clueless, I'd be a rich woman.
Summary: Jim raises cluelessness to an artform.
Warnings: m/m
*****
Hard as a Rock and Twice as Dumb
By Silk
“No, I don’t know what you mean by that. What the fuck do
you mean anyway?”
An exasperated sigh of major proportions escaped the
young man hovering over his laptop. “Jesus, Jim, isn’t it obvious?”
“No, Sandburg, it’s not obvious! If it was so fucking
obvious to me, why would I ask you?”
“I don’t know, Jim.” Sandburg gritted his teeth in a
fervent desire to remain seated and *not* grab the nearest two by four to club
Jim over the head with. “You ask me plenty of things that you should already
know the fucking answers to.”
“I do not! And don’t change the subject!”
“I’m not changing the subject! There *is* no subject!”
“Yes, there is!” Jim advanced on the young
anthropologist, his long stride taking him within inches of Sandburg almost
instantly. Reaching over Sandburg’s shoulder, he grabbed the observer’s hand
and pressed it to the rapidly thickening erection that tested the strength of
his zipper. “*This* is a fucking subject all of its own!”
Sandburg fixed his smoky blue gaze on Jim’s face.
Resisting the urge to squeeze Jim’s dick as hard as humanly possible, he ground
out, “I already told you what I think about this.”
“That’s the part I don’t understand.”
“Jim, how could you not understand what this means, man?”
“So? Just because I have a hard-on doesn’t mean it has
anything to do with you!”
“Ha!”
“Ha? What? You think it does?”
“That would be a logical assumption, yeah.”
“What’s so fucking logical about it, Sandburg? I could
have a hard-on for a million different reasons!”
“At your age? Don’t make me laugh!”
“You sarcastic little prick!”
“Jim?” Sandburg had all he could do not to grin
ear-to-ear. Sarcasm was one thing, but rubbing Jim’s face in his own
cluelessness might be considered cruel and unusual punishment.
“What?”
“You *do* realize that my hand has been in your crotch
for the past five minutes.”
“Of course I realize! I put it there!”
“Uh huh. Then you *like* it there?”
“I-I…shit, Sandburg, you’re a mean son-of-a-bitch.”
“Fine! Then could I please have my hand back?”
“No!”
“No?” Sandburg’s tone was deceptively soft.
“Maybe we could—“
“Could what?”
“Explore what this means.”
“I don’t need to explore anything, Jim! I already told
you what it means!”
“You mean for once you don’t feel like running a couple
hundred tests? What happened to your scientific rationale and the need for
empirical evidence?” Jim looked fairly pleased with that last sentence. It
validated the fact that he had a college education. It did not, however,
convince Sandburg that the detective had a shred of common sense when it came
to dealing with his personal life.
Sandburg curled his fingers around Jim’s increasingly
rigid erection through the material of his jeans. “*This* is all the empirical
evidence I need, man.”
Jim’s pale blue eyes grew heated as the younger man
teasingly stroked his cock. “You sure you don’t want to, um, uh, run a test or
two?”
Sandburg leaned on the aroused Sentinel, his fingers
slowly caressing the aching flesh between his legs. “What would that prove?”
“Your theory.”
“What theory?”
“That I want you,” said Jim, the last word rasped out
through sheer force of will. All of the blood in his body was traveling in one
direction now and it wasn’t towards his brain.
“Oh, I know you want me.” Without releasing his snug grip
on Jim’s throbbing hard-on, Sandburg tilted his face up to brush his lips
against Jim’s mouth. Despite the older man’s apparent determination to prove
that his dick being a hammer ready to pound nails did *not* mean that he was
attracted to Sandburg, he responded with a groan that vibrated throughout the
grad student’s body. “But what are you going to do about it?”
Breathless with anticipation, Jim said, “What I feel like
doing is…physically impossible.”
That caught the younger man’s interest. “Jim, you’d be
surprised what I could do with that body.”
Searching for a reasonable scenario that involved
Sandburg wrapping that full mouth of his around Jim’s impatient dick, Jim
jiggled restlessly, only partially relieved when he felt his partner’s fingers
tugging at his zipper. “Then what the hell is taking so long?”
Capturing Jim’s earlobe with his teeth, Sandburg
chuckled. “Jim, only you could *finally* come to the fucking party and wonder
why you were invited in the first place.”
“Ummm…where are we going with this, Chief?”
Sandburg looked thoughtful. The way his teeth worried his
bottom lip made Jim want to kiss him. “That depends, Jim. Where do you *want*
it to go?”
“I think—“
“Yeah?”
“I think—“
Sandburg laughed, wondering if he had diverted entirely
too much of the oxygen to Jim’s groin. “Thinking’s good. What do you think?”
“I think I could get used to the way this feels. I think
I want to feel like this for the rest of my life. I think—“
Unable to make light of the growing intensity in Jim’s
usually cool blue eyes, Sandburg found himself hanging on Jim’s every word.
“Yeah, Jim?”
“I want to keep you.”
That was so close to what Sandburg wished for every day of
his life that he couldn’t immediately say anything. Masking his own feelings
for the time being, Sandburg quipped, “Do you—are you asking me to marry you,
Jim?”
“Nahhh….”
Blair dipped his head automatically, shielding his
wounded expression from prying Sentinel eyes.
Jim stepped closer to his Guide, wrapping his arms around
the younger man’s neck. Pressing his lips to Blair’s ear, he whispered, “We’re
already married.”
“We are?’ Sandburg squeaked.
Jim rocked back and forth, slowly insinuating his hips
against the anthropologist’s own curiously overlooked erection. “Yep, we just
missed the honeymoon, that’s all.”
“Oh.”
Pause.
“We have an awful lot of time to make up for.”
“I think I’m up to the job, Chief.”
“Fuck.”
“That, too.”
“Um…this isn’t just payback for acting like a
self-satisfied jerk before, is it?”
“Looks like I’m not the only one who needs to buy a
clue.”
“What do you mean?”
Jim buried his face in the infamous Sandburgian curls that
were featured in nearly every fantasy he had about the man and whispered, “I
love you, Blair.”
“I love you, too, Jim,” Blair whispered back.
Jim slid a couple of fingers down the younger man’s back
and inside his jeans, stopping only when he came to the cleft at the bottom of
his spine. Sandburg stiffened in his arms, finding it ironic that the one with
the sensory overload was *him*. Nudging the Guide’s legs apart with his knee,
he carefully fit Blair inside his most intimate space, his cock straining to
burst free from the bonds that still held it fast.
“What was I waiting for, Chief?” asked Jim, referring to
almost four years of platonic friendship that culminated in seemingly
unrequited love.
“I don’t know. An engraved invitation?” he asked with a
bemused smile.
Jim thumped the younger man’s forehead. “A tattoo right
here would have helped.”
Blair melted against the older man as Jim sank a finger
deep within his narrow opening. “Oh, God, what are you doing to me?” he gasped.
“Not nearly enough.”
“Then hurry.”
“What’s the rush? It’s a rainy Sunday afternoon and we’ve
got no place to go. Seems like just the right time for a little slow dancing.”
“Can we sleep in your bed afterwards?” Blair asked,
hating the wistful tone in his voice. Now that their feelings were out in the
open, he felt strangely vulnerable.
“Even if all we do is sleep, Chief,” Jim whispered
against his mouth.
Then he kissed him.
End