Title: K-I-S-S-I-N-G

Author/pseudonym: Silk

Email address: silkn1@worldnet.att.net

Rating: R

Pairings: Jim/Blair, Jim/female

Date: 3/29/01

Category: First Times, Romance

Author's website: https://www.angelfire.com/ny4/tinsel/

Disclaimer: All things Sentinel owned by Pet Fly and Paramount. Not me. This is not for profit.

Notes: There is no actual sex in this story, implied or otherwise. Jim's pairing with a woman is not shown, but it is talked about and thought about by both Jim and Blair.

Summary: Jim's night out doesn't end exactly the way he thought it would. It's better.

Warnings: m/m, m/f

*****

K-I-S-S-I-N-G

By Silk

"Jim and Blair sit-ting in a tree...K-I-S-S-I-N-G...."

The sing-song cadence of the old nursery rhyme echoed through Blair's aching head. He woke up with a start, realizing that his surrealistic dream *might* have been trying to tell him something.

Kissing? We were kissing? Blair asked himself. He thought hard. Of course, Jim was extremely touchy-feely. He always had been. Right from the beginning. But even hugs of the frequent kind were different from kisses. Kisses made a statement about intimacy. Kisses meant-

--love. They meant love. Not the kind that a man had for his best friend. Not the kind that made a man cook homemade spinach lasagna from scratch for his roommate. But the kind that compelled a man to give up his entire life's work. A sacrifice, pure and simple, without the promise of being allowed into his partner's bed.

"First comes love...then comes marriage...then comes Jimmy with a baby carriage...."

Is that what was missing in his life? He had made the sacrifice. He had made the requisite commitment. For all intents and purposes, he *was* married. But he was sure that Jim didn't see things that way.

For one thing, if he did, he wouldn't be practicing safe sex with that redhead, Lisa Brando. Blair leaned on his knees and took a deep breath. Why did the thought of Jim with Lisa always make him feel like the loser in a tractor pull? Maybe it was time to get in touch with those feelings.

Oh, hell, he had better things to do.

He stood up shakily and padded barefoot into the bathroom. He had fallen asleep on the couch. Again. All because Jim had a date with Lisa. Again.

It didn't mean anything. It didn't mean *anything*.

A little voice whispered in Blair's ear, "Jim's not just dating her. He's fucking her. Doesn't that bother you?"

Blair squeezed the toothpaste too hard and suddenly there was toothpaste all over the mirror, distorting his reflection. The little voice seized the advantage and continued, "He should be fucking *you*."

He watched as his mirror image's eyes grew impossibly round. "Whoa, man, how'd we get from kissing to fucking? Besides," he shrugged, "if it came down to a contest between the two of us, Jim would never choose *me*."

"Choose you for what, Sandburg?"

Jim's entrance at that moment finished off the rest of the toothpaste. Blair's hand contracted reflexively and the result was something akin to Picasso's version of a Happy Face on the bathroom mirror. "Jim!" Blair squeaked.

"Chief!" Jim exclaimed, though not in the same enthusiastic tones as his partner. All at once he frowned. "You weren't waiting up for me again, were you?"

"No, Jim, no, I wasn't."

"Cause if you were, we'd better have a talk. I'm a big boy now, Chief. I don't need you holding my hand."

"Or any other part of you," Blair mumbled, pitching his voice so low, even Jim's Sentinel hearing couldn't pick it up.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Just-nothing." Blair heaved a great sigh as Jim left. He had no clue. The man had no clue at all what he did to Blair. Was that even possible, given the array of sensory equipment available to Jim?

***

It was, if the senses in question belonged to the King of Denial.

Jim threw himself up the stairs, screeching to a halt on the landing to ponder what had just happened. Once more, he had endured a mind-numbing, energy-depleting, dick-shriveling date with Lisa Brando. She fit all of his prerequisites for a dream date. She was a tall, beautiful redhead who loved sex, wasn't put off by Jim's job, and didn't have aspirations to become Mrs. Jim.

So what was the problem?

Well, for one thing, Jim thought, ripping off his shirt, uncaring where the buttons flew, she wasn't *Sandburg*.

It wasn't that Jim didn't like women. He did. But no matter who they were or how they looked or what they wanted, it didn't matter. None of them could take the place of Sandburg. And that *was* the bottom line, wasn't it?

If he found a girl that he liked, who liked him back, who had the potential to be something more...he stopped dating her. Because that would mean the end of his relationship with Sandburg.

Wouldn't it?

Jim snorted as he continued to mutter under his breath. "It's not like we could be the fucking Three Musketeers. Ellison, Brando, and...Sandburg? All for one, and one for-"

The hairs on Jim's neck rose. Someone was standing behind him. Dammit, he was so preoccupied, he hadn't even heard Sandburg approach.

"Jim?"

Bare-chested, Jim turned to face the young anthropologist. He saw Sandburg's eyes drop to his belt line and flushed dark red. His belt was unbuckled, his pants undone, the resulting gap leaving quite a bit of his lower abdomen exposed. It shouldn't have bothered him. He was well-satisfied, thanks to the ardent Lisa and her energetic ministrations.

But it did.

There was something new in Sandburg's scrutiny that caught Jim's attention. Something unguarded. Something desperate.

"Yeah, Chief?" he answered softly, a quiet certainty creeping into his voice.

"Are you going to marry her?" Blair blurted out.

"Nahhh...why break up a perfectly good team?"

"Oh! I mean-oh." Blair seemed disconcerted by Jim's news, as if he didn't know where that statement left him.

"But you see more of *her* than *me*," Blair protested weakly, mesmerized by the heated look in Jim's pale blue eyes.

Jim moved in on Blair, caressing his cheek with the back of his hand, his knuckles grazing the younger man's open mouth. Jim's breath sighed across Blair's face as he kissed his forehead, his temple, his nose, and his chin. "The only thing I do with *her* that I don't do with *you*, Chief, is...*this*," he whispered.

Laying claim to his partner with a series of slow, drugging kisses, Jim wound his hands through Blair's hair, capturing a silken strand with one finger. When he finally pulled away, Blair was regarding him with a rapt look that gave Jim hope.

"I want you to love *me* that way, Jim," Blair whispered.

"Oh, no, the way I love *you* is so much *better*...."

Blair gave a gasp of surprise as Jim's admission sank in, a gentle sound that was quickly sealed by the intimate caress of Jim's mouth.

Some fairy tales are lived out by perfectly ordinary people everyday. Sometimes all it takes for a dream to come true is for two people to wish the very same thing.

End