Author's disclaimer: Not mine, but we all knew that. Praise, omments, and constructive criticism always welcome; flames will be taken camping and gleefully used to toast marshmallows.

Author's notes: I am definitely over my block! This started out as just Jim, but Blair woke up and wanted to join the fun. Who am I to say no? Probably one more story after this one.

Jim sat on the couch, stunned. Too stunned to either drink the beer he was holding, or put it down. He kept seeing Blair, his eyes a smoky, hazy blue, kept hearing him calling Jim's name in the grip of a spectacular orgasm. What had happened here?

He had come home early from the stakeout. He had traded with Dennison, taking his second shift so that Dennison could be home for his son's birthday. Dennison was part of the Fukuru stakeout, and Jim had spent the last 6 hours in a Department of Public Works van with the rest of the team. The bust had gone down without a hitch, even if it had happened days sooner than expected. He'd finished his paperwork and come home a little early, expecting Blair to be grading papers. That was the reason he'd begged off the stakeout tonight. Instead, Jim had come home to...to...the most erotic thing he had seen, ever.

He knew Blair was home; the Volvo was in it's usual parking space. As he'd come up the stairs, he listened for Blair's heartbeat, part of the coming home ritual. As long as that heartbeat was there, all was right with the world.

Only tonight, it wasn't. It was there, but it was pumping fast and hard, and Blair's lungs were working overtime, pulling in air in harsh, desperate pants. He paused outside the apartment door, listening. One heartbeat; Blair's. There was no one else there. Letting himself in quietly, he figured Blair had fallen asleep over his grading, and was having a nightmare. God knows, since Blair had been working with Jim, he'd seen enough to give him nightmares. Jim's only surprise was that Blair didn't have more nightmares than he did.

Jim sighed, and finally noticed the beer that was sweating through his jeans. When had he gotten it out of the fridge? It must have been after...after...he sighed again, and twisted the cap off the beer. He sat there, looking at but not seeing the bottle cap, as his mind dragged him ruthlessly backward.

The only thing he could tell himself was that he was tired. He'd worked his own shift and most of Dennison's. That was why he hadn't heard the sound of skin stroking skin, why he hadn't smelled the intoxicating musk of Blair in full rut. He'd smelled it before, usually in the shower, sometimes late at night, when Blair thought he was asleep. If he'd been paying attention, he'd have known what Blair was doing, and could have gone somewhere else for a while, or stayed, and listened, and then pretended he had gotten home much later.

He tipped the bottle, surprised to discover only a trickle running down his throat. How had the happened? He wasn't aware that he'd been drinking it. But the bottle was definitely empty, and he hadn't spilled it, so he must have...his thoughts trailed off as his mind popped up with another picture of Blair.

God, the sight of Blair like that...on his knees, his cock in one hand, the other hand buried enticingly between his cheeks. Jim had watched in fascination as the muscles in Blair's stomach had rippled, clenching in time with his thrusting hips, his spurting cock. It had been a long time since Jim had watched another guy get off, and it was still as cool as he remembered it being. Those memories came back in a rush that made his already engorged cock harden even more.

He'd been with guys before, in the Army, but had never considered himself as bisexual. It was just guys, and sex. Guys did things when they were bored and horny, and stuck in some godforsaken outpost in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do but do each other, they'd done a lot. He'd enjoyed it, but as soon as they got back to civilization, they'd all gone back to women. When he met Blair for the first time, he'd had a brief flash of those times, and wondered, but it soon became clear that Blair was firmly and enthusiastically hetero.

Maybe he should reconsider that opinion. As Blair would've said, his conclusion didn't fit the available evidence. Most straight guys were too uptight to enjoy any anal play at all. That was usually a good indication...his mind obediently called up a shot of Blair's hand, with two fingers buried deep inside his body, the dark hairs sprinkled across the back of is hand blending with the dark hair on his thighs. With the near-perfect recall that was apparently part of the Sentinel package, he could see the puckers around Blair's knuckles clenching and stretching, drawing those fingers further in. He knew that Blair had been deep enough to reach his prostate, knew from his expression that he had.

And the expression on his face! He had expected shock, or disgust, or maybe even fear when he realized that Blair had heard the noise that he hadn't been able to contain, but he hadn't expected the surprise to morph into...what had that look been? Ecstasy, surely. More than satisfaction, certainly, but that had been present too, and his eyes had been full of secrets, like he had gotten something he'd long wanted, but never expected to get.

The remembered sound of Blair's husky voice as he called Jim's name skittered across his nerves, dancing into his crotch. Jim shifted uncomfortably, then gave up and popped the top button on his jeans. That wasn't much help, but the pressure subsided somewhat.

Focusing on the little room behind the kitchen, he realized that Blair was asleep. So that was why he hadn't come out to ask Jim just what the hell he thought he was doing, barging into Blair's personal space like that. The better question, to Jim's way of thinking, was why he had stayed to watch once he realized just what Blair was doing. And the only answer to that was, because he couldn't not watch. It had taken everything he had to go, to leave Blair by himself, to not get in the bed and pull Blair down on top of him.

What had happened here? He was asking himself that a lot, tonight. When had he gone from casual curiosity, to a burning desire to know? Jim's mouth quirked up in a small half-smile as he ruefully admitted to himself that 'burning desire' was entirely accurate. He wanted Blair. He wanted to kiss that lush mouth, to thread his fingers through those riotous curls and never let go. He wanted to kiss, to taste, to possess, to bury himself in that body and see if it was as hot and tight and welcoming as it was in his imagination.

And when had that happened? How long had been been imagining himself with Blair? He snorted at himself in disgust. Okay, okay. For a long time now, he admitted silently to himself. In the dark late at night, on quiet Sunday mornings lazing in bed, on one memorable occasion at the station gym. Repression could be a handy thing, but when it stopped working, you got all those repressed memories back, with interest.

His cock throbbed, and he shifted around, trying to get comfortable, finally popping the last of the buttons on his jeans. What the hell. Standing up, he toed off his shoes, then stripped off his jeans and underwear, then tossed them into the armchair. He figured that Blair would be out cold for the rest of the night. May as well go ahead and indulge now; Blair would never know. As for tomorrow, well, sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

He sat back down on the couch, sprawled kitty-cornered, with one long leg stretched out on the cushions, one foot still on the floor. He debated taking his t-shirt off, then decided against it. He liked the feeling of being half dressed. There was something illicit about it, about only undressing enough to do what you had to.

Closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the couch, he let his memory lead him. Blair, hot and hard, flushed and aroused, smelling delicious. Getting off, saying his name. No, calling his name. After all, this was his fantasy, right? What would have happened if he'd come in sooner?

For starters, he'd like to taste the origins of that intoxicating, musky scent. He pictured Blair on his knees on the bed, himself on his knees, in front of Blair. From this close, the scent was overpowering, dizzying. Opening his mouth, he would lean forward and take Blair in deep. Blair would grip his shoulders hard and make small noises, strangled and breathless, deep in his throat.

Unbidden, Jim's hand rose to his mouth, and he sucked in two fingers, stroking his tongue, the memory of smell providing the illusion of taste. His other hand slid out from under his shirt, where it had been pinching his nipples, and slid down his belly, causing the muscles to twitch. On second thought...he switched hands, the wet, slick hand heading for his cock, the other one coming up to replace it in his mouth.

He could smell his own arousal, deeper and stronger than Blair's, could feel the need dripping down the underside of his cock. He cupped his balls, rolling them slightly, massaging, enjoying.

His brain shifted gears on him, and he found himself imagining Blair going down on him. With the fingers from his mouth, he circled the wet head of his cock, gently stroking down the tight arrow of skin just under the head, imagining it to be the tip of Blair's tongue. The thumb and finger of his other hand tightened at the base of his cock, the pressure adding to the growing sensations. Slowly, he continued stroking that tight little strip, occasionally making a detour up and around the flaring crown, rubbing down over the weeping slit.

"God, Jim. You look so hot like that." He heard the voice, but lost in his fantasy, he thought it was part of his fantasy. The reality didn't register until he felt hands on his knees, body heat radiating against his legs, hair brushing his groin. Blair was kneeling between his legs. When had he woken up?

Jim froze, startled, and noticed with a still-rational corner of his mind that getting caught by Blair had only made him harder.

"Wh," he began, then paused to clear his throat. He tried again. "What are you doing, Blair?"

"Joining you, man. What does it look like?" Blair's hot hands stroked up the inside of his thighs, coming to a slow stop just inches short of where Jim was hoping they'd be. He could feel them burning there, and incredibly, he could feel his cock get harder still. Blair's smile was seductive, and not at all innocent. "If you wanted it that bad, Jim, why'd you leave? Why didn't you stay? Looks like we've both been thinking the same thing."

Inanely, Jim said the only thing he could think of. "You were asleep, Blair. I didn't want to wake you up." Even as he said it, he knew how dumb it sounded.

"It's still early, man. You know me; I'm not going to be out for the night for a while yet." With agonizing slowness, his hands ghosted up, up, towards Jim's straining cock. He stopped so close to Jim's hand that Jim could feel the hairs on Blair's knuckles tickling his own fingers.

"Do you want this, Jim? Do you want me? 'Cause I gotta tell you, I want you, in the worst way. If you don't, say the word, and I'll just go back to bed, and this conversation will never have happened." His face was serious, intent. Jim could read the truth there, and knew it really was up to him.

He managed to get out a "God, Blair. Yes..." before his mouth was taken over by Blair's. Lips against his, hard and possessive, tongue stroking, demanding entrance. His mouth opened of its' own accord, and the flavor of Blair exploded against his taste buds. Several breathless moments later, Blair backed away, staring wide-eyed at Jim. Jim could only stare back.

Blair ran a shaking hand across his mouth, then settled back on his haunches. His eyes never left Jim's face, but his hands encircled Jim's, until they were both loosely wrapped around Jim's cock.

"I've got to know, Blair. How much experience do you have with men? All I've ever seen you with are women."

The patented, megawatt Sandburg Special flashed at him. "A lot Jim, but not much recently. Actually, I prefer guys, but I was trying to keep it to a dull roar around the station. I didn't want you catching any more crap for me than you already were. Then the girls got to be a habit. What about you?"

Jim explained about his time in the Army. "I haven't been with a guy since then, but I've been tempted a few times. You tempt me, more than you'll ever know."

"And you think you don't tempt me?" A truly wicked smile was Jim's only warning. Blair's hot mouth engulfed him to the root, sucking strongly, as busy fingers played with his balls, then slipped behind. A warm, broad fingertip pressed into that spot, then continued back to circle teasingly around the very sensitive flesh hidden there.

Jim groaned and thrust into Blair's mouth. Blair relaxed his throat and let him, swallowing around the crown, then pulled off with a sucking pop. Looking into Jim's cloudy blue eyes, he slid two fingers into his mouth, then sucked and licked them until they were wet and dripping. Blair leaned forward, and sucked at Jim's nipple through his t-shirt. The moist heat and roughened cotton held his attention, but before he could zone on it Blair's mouth was back on his cock and his finger, oh, god, his fingers were rubbing at his hole, thrusting just the tiniest bit in until Jim was writhing with frustration and arousal.

"Sandburg! Stop teasing, or they will never find your body!" It all came out in a gasp, and Jim was surprised that he was still able to construct rational sentences, that he hadn't been reduced to monosyllabic grunts.

Blair pulled back again, the pointed tip of his tongue tickling just under the crown. This was straight out of his fantasy, and that fantasy rapidly paled in comparison to the real thing. Blair's tongue stroked in time with his fingers, the strokes becoming broader, more deliberate as the strokes across his asshole went a little deeper. The other hand took a handful of his own hair and wrapped it around the shaft of Jim's cock, pumping steadily. The sensation was surprisingly erotic. It felt like raw silk, like a living thing. Jim was so sensitized that he could feel each strand of hair, the bends and curls clinging and slithering, sticking in the wetness, giving way with sharp tugs, tickling his balls, and teasing his thighs.

Jim was writhing again, trying to be still, trying to maintain that contact between his twitching cock and Blair's incredible tongue. Another wicked smile, another warning. As Blair sucked all of Jim's hot length in, his fingers thrust into Jim's ass, unerringly finding his prostate. That little knob of delight was stroked roughly in time with the sucking, and the swallowing, and the tongue stroking the big vein...Jim's breath caught in one last gasp as he came, positive he was turning inside out. Blair never let up, and Jim was lost in the white heat of a monumental orgasm, one that showed no signs of stopping any time soon.

Eventually, he came back to himself, and found Blair looking at him, with an expression that could only be described as smug.

"God, Sandburg. First thing Monday, we register that mouth of yours as a lethal weapon. You're going to kill me if you do that again!"

"Yeah, but way a way to go, man!" Blair's voice was full of laughter and affection. "You ok? You were pretty far gone, there." There was a hint of the Guide voice underlying the teasing.

"I'm so far beyond ok, it's going to take me a couple of days to get back there, Blair. Right now, I want to go upstairs. I want you under me, on a comfortable horizontal surface, one that's big enough for the both of us. And this couch isn't it!" Jim's voice roughened into a growl of need, and he surged to his feet, taking Blair by the hands and hauling him up with him.

"Sounds like a plan to me, big guy!" Blair grinned and headed for the stairs. It was only as he turned to go up that he realized that Blair was nude. And hard. And dripping; his cock was glossy with precum, and Jim could smell it from where he stood by the end of the couch. The sight was enough to tip him into a primitive place. In four giant strides, and he was he was beside Blair, taking him into a rough embrace. A brief hard, kiss; he could taste himself in Blair's mouth. Then Jim dropped to his knees in front of Blair, nuzzling his nose into the crease between his hip and thigh, and into the crease between his balls and thigh, inhaling deeply.

The smell of Blair's sweat and semen, the pheromones and the musk coursed through his system, and Jim couldn't quite believe it, but he could feel his cock twitching, trying to rise again. With a wordless growl, he backed Blair into the wall at the bottom of the stairs and licked Blair's balls. Mmmm. He did it again, relishing the shudder that twisted through Blair. Abandoning all pretense of restraint, he took each testicle in his mouth and sucked, then licked in broad stripes up Blair's swollen cock to the dripping head. He tasted...beyond words, almost beyond description. Tangy, bleachy, bitter. Salty like the ocean on a hot summer day. Earthy, like life. Like forever.

He wanted to taste more.

Shouldering Blair's legs further apart, he grasped one behind the knee and lifted, draping it over his shoulder.

"Whoa, big guy. What are you doing? I thought you wanted to take this upstairs?" Blair sounded hoarse, and a bit breathless. Jim's smile was almost predatory as he answered, "I did. I do. But I want this more, and I want it now."

Blair returned the smile, and shifted to a more stable position, bracing himself with his hands on the cool bricks behind him. Jim took advantage of access afforded by the new position and leaned in to taste the spice coming from Blair's most hidden recesses. It was earthy, musky, the essential Blair.

"Ok, babe?" Jim wasn't so wrapped up in what he was doing that he missed the sudden acceleration of Blair's heart beat. Some guys didn't like this, either giving or receiving. Jim liked both, but if Blair didn't...

"Oh, yeah, Jim. That's one of my favorite things." His eyes slid closed again as Jim's tongue went back to work. Jim took full advantage of his senses, bringing Blair to the ragged edge or orgasm and keeping him there, monitoring his heartbeat and breathing, and listening to the subtler sounds of his body further down.

He pulled back and looked up at Blair. "Ready?"

"For what? Never mind. Yeah." Blair's voice was blurry with arousal. Jim was feeling pretty pleased with himself; when it had been him, he was still making sense at this stage.

Jim's tongue dipped in to taste again, then traveled up, over Blair's balls to his cock, meandering along the vein he found there. As his tongue moved out of position, his fingers moved into position.

"Turnabout's fair play, Chief." Blair was still trying to bring enough of his brain cells on line and figure out what that comment meant when Jim's mouth came down over Blair's cock as his fingers slid deep into his body.

Blair's breathy groan made Jim's cock throb. He was hard, and had been for a while now. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten off so hard, and then gotten hard again so quick.

The taste of Blair's precum sizzled on his tongue, getting stronger as Blair plummeted towards orgasm. His body was as hot and welcoming as it had been in Jim's fantasies, and he couldn't wait to bury his cock in that clinging heat. Jim found the little nub of sensitive flesh, buried deep, and stroked it, once, twice, again. He felt Blair clench around him, felt his muscles seize up, felt Blair's cock thicken. The blood-hot tang that flooded his mouth was ambrosia, nectar, the wine of the gods, and gone all too soon, leaving a pleasant aftertaste.

Jim was suddenly aware that he was supporting most of Blair's weight, that Blair was slowly sliding down the wall. He hadn't exactly passed out, but he wasn't real with it, either. Jim got himself seated on the second step up, then hauled Blair's unresisting form onto his lap. Within a few minutes, Blair was back among the living.

"Me! Jim, if my mouth is lethal, what's yours? God, Jim, I have never come like that, ever! And I'm not just saying that to flatter you, that's the honest truth. I may need a physical before we get to the intercourse part, just to be sure I can keep up with you!" Blair's voice was still rough, but it washed over Jim like hot honey. "Hey, big guy, don't zone on me here. We've got all night and nothing to do tomorrow, and it looks like you have a problem that still needs taken care of." His blue eyes bright with anticipation, he hopped to his feet. "Let's take this party the rest of the way upstairs, ok?"

Willingly, Jim took Blair's hand, and led the way upstairs. Blair was right; there was an awful lot of time left before Monday morning.