Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Right....with Mark...yeah, the doctor."

Blair was going through his research notes while he talked to Steve, another grad student who went on the occasional date for money. He was trying to get his Sentinel papers in some kind of order in preparation for another round of tests he hoped to talk Jim into.

"You know, I almost feel like Mark's a friend instead of a client. He takes me out, treats me like a human being, and we always have a great time. Nothing kinky, you know. He pays me $200 for a night of good food, great conversation, and vanilla sex."

Blair switched the phone to his other ear and shuffled the sheaf of papers into a file folder while he listened to Steve complain about his last client.

"I know what you mean," Blair commiserated. "You have to draw the line somewhere, and that's it for me. Things get too rough, I'm outta there." He sighed. "We won't be doing this forever, Steve...I know...listen, I should go. I have a buttload of papers to grade...sure. Meet you there. Bye."

Blair switched off the phone, picked up the folder, and stopped, startled.

Jim was standing in the open doorway, staring at Blair expressionlessly. His face was calm, but his hands were clenched at his side, betraying the tension in his body.

Blair's face paled. "Jim. Shit. I guess you heard that, huh?"

Jim stood silently, eyes icy, face granite-still. He didn't reply.

Blair ran his hands through his curls nervously. "Jim, man, let me explain-"

"What's to explain, Sandburg?" Jim asked coldly. "I think I heard about as much as I need to." He turned and stalked out.

Desperate, Blair followed. "Come on, Jim!" he begged. "Let's talk about this." He took Jim's arm and pulled the big man toward him.

Jim yanked away. "Sure," he exploded. "go ahead and explain why you've been lying your ass off to me, Sandburg!" He leaned against the sink and crossed his arms.

"I never lied to you," Blair said quietly.

"No, you just didn't bother to tell me that you're selling yourself on the streets!"

Blair felt his own temper rise. "I do not work the streets, Jim, I-"

"Whatever," Jim snapped. "I mean, did it ever occur to you that you're living and working with a fucking cop? That this little hobby of yours could get me in a lot of trouble? No, I guess it didn't. You just went off fucking your way through Cascade and collecting your fees!" Jim was angrier than he'd been in a long time-furious, in fact-and he intended to let Blair have it with both barrels. Anger, hurt, betrayal, and more than a touch of jealousy combined to spark Jim's infamous temper.

"You're not being fair!" Blair exclaimed. "Just calm down and let me explain here. I need the money, Jim. I can't take another job, because I've got too fucking much on my plate as it is, and I make good money on a date."

Jim barked snide laughter. "Date? Is that what it's called when you sell your favors for spending money?" The force of Jim's jealousy at the thought of Blair doing things with other men surprised and frightened him. The surprise and fear fueled his anger, and he glared at Blair, daring him to reply.

But Blair had been around too long to be intimidated by the likes of Jim. "Spending money! Right!" Blair snarled. He tugged savagely at his threadbare t-shirt. "Look at my goddamn Armani suit, Jim!" He gestured to his bedroom. "And my accommodations at the motherfucking Ritz Carlton!" Blair threw up his hands in frustration. "I'm down to bare bones here, Jim, and I can't live on what they pay me as a TA." Spots of color dotted Blair's cheeks. "I don't do what I do for fun or extras, so don't you dare judge me!"

"Judge you?" Jim sneered. "I should run your ass in!"

"Then go ahead," Blair challenged.

"Yeah, sure," Jim dismissed him. "And fill up a city jail cell with another cheap whore?"

Blair's face drained of color. Shocked, his mouth opened, but nothing came out. "You-" he sputtered. "You son of a bitch! You rotten prick!" Tears of pain and fury sprang to his eyes, and he blinked quickly to hide them.

Any triumph Jim might have felt disappeared when he smelled the saline of Blair's tears. He suddenly felt small and cruel. "Blair-" he started to say something, anything, to heal the hurt his petty jealousy had caused, but Blair turned and fled into his room.

Blair slammed and locked the door behind him. He grabbed a duffel bag and quickly crammed some clothes and toiletries in, then stormed out, shoving past Jim and down the stairs to his car. He tossed the bag onto the seat, started his car, and drove numbly to his office at the University.

I can stay here until I find somewhere to live he thought. *With everyone on vacation, I'll at least have some quiet to-*

To what? His dissertation was trashed unless he wanted to go crawling home to Jim, and Blair told himself grimly that he'd die before speaking another word to that asshole.

*Home? What fucking home? I was an idiot to think I'd found a place with Jim*

That thought broke through the numbness, and Blair lay his head on his desk and cried.