The Secret to Life
Rated TEEN
Written for Ponders_life

"So, sugar, you're new around here, aren't you?"

Blair glanced over at the carefully manicured transvestite, her gown a little outrageous in the slightly seedy atmosphere of the club. "Okay, that's sounding a little like a bad pick-up line," Blair said jokingly. Then again, he was standing in the middle of a gay bar, so he shouldn't be surprised by that.

"If I thought I could lure you away from the testosterone squad room, I'd use a much better pick-up line than that one," she said with a wink. "Miss Rose Gentle," she offered her hand with the palm down. No one could accuse Blair of missing subtle cultural cues, so he brought the enormous hand up and kissed it gently.

"Oh, honey, you have found yourself a keeper," a large black transvestite with eye-numbingly platinum hair laughed.

"And that," Miss Rose said with a wave toward the woman, "Is Chocolate Babe. Babe, if this weren't catch and release fishing around these parts, I might take this one home."

"So," Blair said when the two stopped laughing, "is this the part where the new cop gets all flustered and runs out of here or the part where I fill some sort of cop stereotype and get offended that you're insulting my manhood?" Blair asked with a laugh. Even though he was the butt of their joke, he couldn't resist both their enthusiasm and their not so subtle way of making sure the police avoided their place. The room was nearly empty, but a leatherman leaning against the bar turned to watch them curiously.

"Oh, this one's got a brain under that adorable mop of curls," Miss Rose said as she reached up and tugged a spiraling curl. The gentle pull reminded him of how Jim would do the same whenever he wanted to prove a point. 'See, Sandburg? I told you the Jags would pull it out in the end.' And then that large hand would reach over and tug his hair. At the time, Blair thought he'd been annoyed at the gesture, but now he couldn't help missing it.

"Just don't call me Frizz," Blair complained, and then wondered where that brain of his has suddenly gone because he had just doomed himself to that nickname for the rest of his life. Miss Rose just smiled innocently, which looked actually faintly disturbing on a six foot something inch wo/man wearing red lipstick and a gold sequined dress.

"I'll call you anything you want if it gets me a date," Miss Rose suggested, laying it on a little thick for Blair to take the offer seriously.

"Oh man, that would be the best offer of the last decade except that I'm not gay."

"Honey, everyone is gay given the right man to make the offer," she had moved around so that she stood next to him by the bar, and now she hip butted him. Blair thought about that for a second.

"I don't know about that. If I were going to change teams, I would have done it years ago. So, what exactly are you trying to keep me from seeing with your enthusiastic welcome?" Blair looked up at Miss Rose and suddenly he had the uncomfortable feeling of being studied. She looked down at him, pursing her red lips and frowning slightly. Blair fidgeted a little under the intense look. Then Miss Rose shook her head, her ornate hair combs rattling their hanging jewels.

"Nothing, sugar. Why don't you let me buy you a drink? Babe, you can come up with something non-alcoholic, can't you?" Miss Rose finally asked as she looked across the bar.

"If I look long enough," the transvestite behind the bar answered.

"No, I really should get going. I'm new around here, and I'm just trying to get to know the neighborhood a little bit. Roth calls it going on walkabout."

"Yeah, the others have wandered through from time to time," Miss Rose said, and Blair had an image of Russo coming in this place. It wasn't a good image.

"So I should—" Blair gestured toward the door, not sure why he suddenly felt exposed, naked.

"You should do what makes you happy, honey. That's the only secret to life," Miss Rose finished for him, and Blair fled.

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Rated TEEN
Part of Cycle I (Lost Balance Found )
Written for Patty1h who bid on this for Moonridge charity auction




"Blair? I smell blood."

Blair turned to see Jim in just boxer shorts poised at the arch to the kitchen, his body tight as he scanned the small room.

"Cut myself," Blair admitted as he pulled his finger out of his mouth. The cut between the first and second knuckles started bleeding right on cue. Blair grabbed a paper towel and pressed it to the deep cut.

"Chief, you really did a number on that. Where's your first aid kit?"

"It's just a cut," Blair protested, but when Jim stood there with his determined expression, Blair nodded toward a cupboard. "In there."

Jim grabbed the kit and popped it open, pulling out gauze pads, white tape, and antibiotic ointment. "Let me see," he ordered as he held out his hand, and Blair surrendered his hand. Jim peeled back the paper towel and made a small wince.

"Geez, Sandburg, are you trying to take off a finger?"

"Very funny, man. I slipped slicing the mushrooms," Blair said as Jim held his finger under water in the sink.

"No more knives for you," Jim said as he pulled open a drawer and pulled out a clean towel. When he pulled the finger out of the running water, he held the finger tightly with the towel.

"Man, you're going to ruin the towel," Blair complained.

"Not my main concern right now," Jim said. "Hold this a second," he said, and Blair held his own finger as Jim open a package of gauze and put antibiotic cream on it. He silently pulled of lengths of tape, ripping them off and hanging them from edge of the counter before taking control of Blair's finger again, pressed the medicated square to the cut and holding it while he wrapped tape around it.

"All better, now try not to cut off any other limbs," Jim joked as he gathered up the trash. Blair watched, and he realized that no one, not even Naomi had ever been so concerned about him.

Looking at the white tape wrapped tightly around the white square on his finger, Blair felt a pressure in his chest that made him take a deep breath. In that moment, he decided that he wouldn't leave Jim again. If Jim went back to Cascade, he'd face Simon and the other rather than risk losing Jim forever.

"Are you okay, Chief?" Jim asked with a concerned look, pushing the door shut on the garbage.

"Yeah, I'm just fine," Blair answered as he turned back to the counter. "Want an omelet?"

"Does it come with your blood?"

"Ha ha."

"Why don't you go get rid of the bloody shirt, and I'll finish up the omelets, Chief," Jim said with a push.


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Bets' Point of View
Rated TEEN
Part of Cycle II (Right before "In Shape" )
Written for Ponders_Life




Bets pushed a thick file back and cracked her neck. Without some piece of luck, Thomas McBain would walk on extortion charge number three. Some days she really hated this shit.

"Man, I can't believe you did that," Frizz laughed as he breezed through the door. Frizz's shadow followed two steps behind, not laughing but smiling. Bets leaned forward and watched the pair.

She disliked Jim most of the time. He would walk through a room and dismiss everyone with a simple passing glance that made it clear that he didn't care about a damn person here. He stormed through cases as though everyone from the M.E. to the trace lab should drop everything in order to process his paperwork. And the worst sin was his ability to solve cases with clues and hunches that seemed to fall out of thin air.

The rest of them celebrated when they could keep a solve rate above 50 percent, and he barely acknowledged his 83 percent solve rate. No celebration, no crowing, just this quiet acceptance as if everyone should have stats like that. Newsflash: none of them could measure up.

Russo shoved his chair back and headed for the door. Bets watched, waiting, and yes… there was the obligatory shove. Jim stood by Frizz's desk, his eyes focused on Frizz as Russo accidentally put an elbow into his back while reaching for a dropped paper. Frizz glanced up, his blue eyes going from Jim to Russo and back to Jim. Russo waited a half second for any reaction before walking out.

"Hey, Bets. We totally nailed the kids doing those smash and grabs down on Van Buren," Frizz announced happily as he held up a thick file. Bets smiled at him and raised her cup of lukewarm coffee in salute.

"You're the one who tracked down the homeless witness, so this one's all yours, Chief," Jim offered as he reached over and ruffled Frizz's hair. Jim looked down and smiled so widely that small lines formed at the side of his eyes. Knocking Jim's hand away with an uncomfortable laugh, Frizz ducked his head.

"Just doing my job," he insisted with a shrug, but then Bets had never heard Frizz accept praise without either deflecting it or distracting the person offering the compliment.

"No, you're doing your job well," Jim said with same smile, that smile that showed pride and joy Bets rarely saw one man offer another.

Frizz glanced up. "Thanks, Jim," Frizz nearly whispered with a smile that shifted his whole face, a smile that made him look like a child who has just discovered chocolate. In that moment, Bets saw a Frizz she'd never seen before.

Maybe Jim wasn't so bad after all.

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Singing in the Rain
Part of Cycle III (The Return of Alex )
Written for Patty1h who bid on this for Moonridge charity auction





"If you're that upset, we could wait it out," Blair said as he leaned against the brick arch and watched the Cascade sky dump summer rains down onto the street. Not a single star shone through the clouds, and even the light of the street lamps seemed dimmed by the downpour.

"I'm not upset, I'm annoyed," Jim corrected him. "And I'm not annoyed at the rain as much as the partner who forgot the umbrella," he finished. Blair looked out the side of his eyes and Jim was wearing his patented frustrated face. It was a combination of his constipated expression and the face that convinced perps Jim was one inch from strangling them to death.

"So, do we wait it out or make a run for the truck?" Blair asked as he peered through the darkness to the truck parked on the far side. Unfortunately he couldn't catch even a glimpse of blue paint. So not good.

"If we wait, we're going to be here a long time," Jim said as he tilted his head and looked up at the clouds.

"Oh, man, that's cool. You can tell that?!" Blair pushed away from the arch of the museum and practically sprang to Jim's side where he peered first at the sky Jim studied and then at Jim himself. "What senses are you using, smell? sight?" Blair questioned, and the Sentinel turned toward him with a barely contained smile.

"The weatherman said this front's going to hover all night."

Blair crossed his arms as Jim's smirk told him he'd been set up. "Keep it up, just keep it up. One of these days, you're going to say something and I'm going to be so suspicious and jaded that I’m not even going to bounce," Blair threatened as he poked a finger into Jim's stomach.

"Never going to happen, Chief," Jim answered with a quick swipe at the invading hand.

"So, last one to the truck's a rotten egg," Blair casually commented, and then he bolted down the museum steps, his hand sliding along the banister as he counted on surprise to give him a head start… well surprise and Jim's sense of propriety, which would make the man stop and check for witnesses before doing something as silly as racing through the rain.

The circular driveway was a collection of dim oil rainbows sliding in the weak light of the street lamps, and Blair slowed to a trot to avoid falling on his ass. His hair stuck to his face and his neck and rain poured down the back collar of his coat. When he reached the grass of the park, Blair took off running without even looking for Jim.

After nearly a week of rain, each step drove his foot deep into the damp ground. Going in, his foot ripped at the grass and slipped in the mud. Coming out, it made a sick slurping sound as the mire pulled at his sneakers.

Blair was just rounding a bush when he felt something catch at his shirt. It might have been a tree branch or a burst of wind, but Blair somehow knew it had been Jim trying to grab him. He pushed his legs harder, listening to the squetch-slurrp of his footsteps as he leaped a row of yellow flowers, their heads drooping in the heavy rain.

Blair stumbled forward, his foot slipping when a chunk of grass ripped free of the mud underneath, and before he could recover, an arm grabbed him around the waist and yanked him off the ground.

"If I'm going down, you're going with me," Blair shouted into the wind as he squirmed. He could feel Jim stagger back under the weight, and then Blair's feet touched ground again. Blair shoved back into Jim, trying to throw him off balance. Feeling Jim start to tip, Blair laughed as he twisted in Jim's arms. He might love his Sentinel, but he didn't throw a race for anyone!

One of Jim's arms came free and windmilled wildly as Jim lost his balance and started slipping down the slight hill. Blair tried to press his advantage by giving Jim a little shove, but Jim's second arm clamped around him. Within a second, Blair found himself sliding down an incline slimy and wet with mud, Jim's arm still around him. They came to rest under a large bush with tiny green berries gathered in clusters.

"You okay?" Jim immediately asked, large hands checking elbows and knees and hips and.... Blair squeaked as Jim's hand grabbed him in a far more personal body part.

"What's the matter, Chief, you suddenly coming down with a case of shyness?" Jim teased. Blair grabbed for Jim's shoulder as the hand tightened.

"Shit. Man, if someone sees us," Blair gasped. The bush above them shivered with the force of the rain, and a mist filtered through the leaves.

"I think I'd hear them coming," Jim pointed out as he worked at the zipper of Blair's pants. Blair lost his next thought as a hot hand worked inside his pants, tracing the outline of his cock still trapped by his briefs.

"What happened to being annoyed?" Blair teased as he reached for Jim's pants to return the favor. He had a brief image of the guys at the station discovering this side of Jim: playful, adventurous, downright horny.

"Oh, I'm still annoyed, Chief," Jim promised, but then he reached down and kissed Blair. It wasn't the first-thing-in-the-morning-brush-of-lips-while-not-breathing-to-avoid-bad-breath kiss or even the you-annoy-me-but-you're-still-hot kiss. No, this was the full out, hand-behind-his-neck, Jim-lips-sealing-over-his-mouth-while-a-tongue-thrust-naughtily-into-his-mouth kiss.

By the time Jim pulled back, Blair was panting and had his fist curled around Jim's shirt. "Feel like getting a little dirty?" Jim whispered into the skin just below Blair's ear, and Blair could feel a shiver run through his entire body. Jim laughed.

"I think we're already dirty," Blair just said as he held up an arm that, from the heel of the hand to the elbow, dripped with mud and had strings of grass randomly imbedded in the mire.

Jim had been licking a patch of skin just below the ear, and now he started sucking so hard that, even as Blair bucked and writhed in Jim's grip, he panted out an objection. "Oh man… Jim… come on… Fuck… the guys… Jim… they'll see…"

Eventually Jim raised his head and looked Blair in the eye.

"Problem there, Chief?"

"You suck," Blair retaliated. He didn't even catch his own pun until Jim quirked an eyebrow at him as the corners of Jim's lips twitched. "Man, you know what I mean," Blair insisted, squinting his eyes again the mist that still filtered through the leaves above them.

"I do suck," Jim muttered as he leaned closer. Blair tightened his fist around Jim's pants which he had only gotten half open before the Sentinel had stolen every rational thought.

"Fuck it," Blair finally laughed as he leaned into the next kiss, working Jim's pants open with one hand while he hungrily sucked at Jim's lower lip. Slipping a hand into Jim's boxers, he found the hard cock inside and squeezed just hard enough to tease.

Jim made a strangled noise and thrust his hips forward.

"Something wrong?" Blair asked with mock innocence as he pulled out of the kiss.

"Tease," Jim growled, and then Blair gasped as Jim threw himself forward, trapping Blair under him. Blair felt his pants and boxers pulled down just far enough for his own cock to come free, and then Jim was pressing down on him, both of their cocks side by side in Jim's rain-slicked fist so that Blair could feel the aching need through Jim's twitching cock.

"Never a tease," Blair said as he reached behind Jim's neck, pulling him in for another kiss as Jim started humping. For his part, Blair spread his legs and angled his hips so that the rubbing hit the skin just below the head of his cock. The need spread until the cold rain felt good on his overheated face and he had to break the kiss just to breath. Jim's mouth panted loudly into his ear, and Blair could feel his own heart throb heavily in his chest as the heat became a delicious ache that made him grab handfuls of Jim's shirt and ram up.

Blair started a brief moment before Jim, crying out as the orgasm made everything in the world except Jim disappear for a brief moment. By the time Blair even registered the existence of a world again, Jim lay on him, limp and panting as he stroked Blair's cheek.

"Still annoyed," Jim whispered playfully, and Blair smiled.

"Yeah, yeah. Just wait 'til you see your truck seat tomorrow, and then see how annoyed you are," Blair pointed out as he felt cool mud slipping up his bare butt and sliding against his neck.

"Is that why…" Jim paused and then pushed himself up on one arm, the mud making slurpy sounds around his splayed fingers. "Is that why you hesitated?" Jim asked. "Because I thought making love out in the great outdoors would be right up your alley."

Blair blushed. "Oh, the nature thing, and the whole spontaneously throwing me to the ground, yeah, I'm good with that, but you know you're going to hate yourself when Brown pokes fun at the hickey and your truck looks like someone left the windows down during a hurricane. Of course, we don't ever get hurricanes around here, so I'm not sure—"

Jim stopped him with a kiss. This time it was a long, slow kiss that gently explored the contours of lips.

"Chief, I don't care who at the station knows I love you as long as it isn't the brass who would split us up as partners. And as far as the truck goes, yeah, I'll take it to have the upholstery cleaned tomorrow, but you're a little more important than the truck.

"Yeah?" Blair asked with a slow, satisfied grin.

"Yeah," Jim answered before taking another kiss.

"So," Jim said as he rolled to the side, rain dripping off his nose as he fastened his pants. "I guess this makes you the rotten egg." Before Blair's brain could process the statement, Jim leapt up and started running for the truck.

"Hey, that's so cheating," Blair yelled as he hurried to tuck himself back in before starting after his partner. He had no hope of winning the race now, but he wasn't about to just give up. As he struggled up, shedding chunks of mud as he stood, he glanced at the man sized body-imprint in the mud and wondered what the gardeners would make of it tomorrow. Laughing, he turned and ran through the downpour in the direction of the truck and Jim.

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Camera Shy
Rated TEEN
Written for Suziq

"If I was any Joe off the street, you would not be harrassin' me like this."

"If you ran around flashing your genitals, I would," Jim answered dryly.

"Police brutality, this is good old fashioned police brutality," the perp complained, and Blair had to conceal a smile. If Jim had wanted to engage in some police brutality, this cross dressing Dorothy with an Adam's apple and a blonde pig-tailed wig would see serious police brutality. But from the way his partner bit his cheek, Blair guessed that Jim was more likely to laugh.

"Keep telling yourself that," Jim answered as he kept a hand on the tranny's arm. Blair followed behind in his dress blues, a police presence on Cascade's first gay pride parade. Unfortunately the uniform itched and three men so far had mistaken him for a dressed up stripper. Not that he could blame them since his growing hair hanging against his collar made him look like more like a hooker, at least according to Jim and most of the Major Crimes unit.

"I'm going to the press. I'm going to tell them that..." the tranny peered at Jim's badge. "I'm going to tell them that Ellison is a homophobic pig that tried to destroy the parade." Jim stiffened, and Blair thought back to all the times Jim had faced the press.

The times, when tired from Peru, magazine photographers had caught him looking worn and fragile even in fatigues. Jim had no love for the press, but then later the coverage of his first partner's disappearance led to suggestions that the man had been on the take. Blair had read any number of articles that suggested Jim might have been dirty, too. And most recently there was the big elephant in the room. The topic that even three years later they rarely discussed: the press feeding frenzy after the diss disaster. Oh yeah, the perp had hit a button there.

Blair held his breath as Jim hesitated, and even some undercurrent of tension warned the perp to shut up as Jim's jaw muscled flexed visibly. Blair wished he could take some of pain that his partner carried, but he couldn't. He could only stand by Jim's side as he fought his own demons. Blair watched as that muscle suddenly smoothed as Jim smiled.

"Buddy, if you want to go to the press, you go. I'll just point out that I was trying to save people the horror of looking at your scrawny ass," Jim commented as he pushed the Dorothy-dressed tranny toward a waiting police van. "And that wig does not work with your skin tone," he added as a uniformed officer took custody. Blair had to smile, both at the expression on the perp's face and at the sight of Jim's smile.

"Come on, Chief, we're missing the parade," Jim said as he briskly strode down the street toward the parade. Blair took a moment to admire the sight of his uniformed partner before hurrying after him. It was a good day.

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Shaving Kink
Rated TEEN
Part of Cycle III (So Married)
Written for Patty1h who bid on this for Moonridge charity auction




"Sandburg, I can shave myself," Jim complained. Blair ignored his grouchy partner who always became even more grouchy when injured.

"Uh-huh. One hand to brace yourself on the counter, one hand to brace your bandages, one hand for the soap and one hand for the razor," Blair offered in a perfectly serious tone. He carefully balanced the crock-pot of warm water on the side table as Jim clicked the television off. Crawling on the floor, he struggled to get the cord into the wall, otherwise the water would get too cold too fast.


"Yep," he agreed as he lay flat on his stomach. He smiled with his success as the plug slipped into place.

"I'm not going to lie here while you fuss over me like an old man. It's a minor injury."

"It's a gunshot wound. You had surgery," Blair contradicted Jim as he got up and laid out the various tools. "If it helps, think of it as kinky," Blair said with a wink. That stopped Jim whose frown turned to surprise as Blair sat on the edge of the bed on Jim's uninjured side.

"Kinky, huh?" Jim asked, and Blair smiled at the tone. "I can do kinky," Jim agreed. A large hand rested on Blair's arm, sliding over the skin invitingly. Blair reached down and pulled at the bottom of Jim's t-shirt, easing it over Jim's head and revealing the white bandages on one side. Blair forced himself to ignore the injury since too much fussing would just get him kicked out of his own bedroom.

"So let me do my kinky thing," Blair said as he pulled the towel out of the steaming bowl of water, wringing the water out before reaching over and curling the towel around Jim's face.

While the steam softened Jim's bristles, Blair soaked the brush in the basin of water, turning it slowly while watching Jim's body relax as the heat soaked into his face. Lifting the brush, Blair allowed the water to drip from it for a second before swirling the tip on the cake soap.

"Ready?" he asked Jim. The protests of early turned into an affirmative grunt as Jim reached up to take the towel off his face.

"My kink… you just lay there," Blair insisted as he pushed Jim's hand back down and pulled the towel off. Jim looked up with amused eyes but didn't argue.

Dropping the towel back into the warm water, Blair began near Jim's ear, working the brush in circles that slowly trailed down Jim's jaw line toward his neck. Jim sighed and tiled his head back farther as Blair lightened his touch, tickling the skin before working the lather into Jim's face.

Jim's sighed and made a small humming noise as Blair worked the brush, stopping once to reload the brush and continue the strokes up and over Jim's upper lip.

Opening the straight-razor, Blair checked the edge.

"You do know how to use that, right Junior?"

"Fastest blade at Walt's Barber Shop," Blair agreed.

"Speed is not the goal," Jim pointed out, but he also closed his eyes and shifted a bit in the bed so that he could tilt his head back. Starting on the round of Jim's cheek, Blair angled the blade and drew it gently down, the familiar whoop noise ending as he flicked the blade off the end of Jim's chin. Jim didn't even flinch.

The hum continued as Jim worked, and Blair smiled at the trust his partner gave him. Putting the fingers of his free hand at the corners of Jim's mouth, he pulled the skin tight as he ran the straight razor over the sensitive skin, carefully avoiding the lip. Finishing the face, Blair moved to the neck.

Slipping his hand under Jim's neck and adjusting to the unusual angle, Blair gently pulled the razor up the exposed neck toward the chin. Using his thumb, he gently traced the newly shaved skin, checking for stubble, and Jim's body shivered in response.

"Kinky," Jim whispered hoarsely.

"Oh yeah," Blair answered as he looked at that neck, layered with lather, exposed, with a single track of smooth skin running up to the chin. Blair gently pulled the blade up a second time, and a third, stopping to run a thumb over the sensitive skin with each stroke.

When he finished, Jim's face, he carefully set the razor on the table and dunked the towel in the warm water.

"Over?" Jim asked sleepily.

"Not even close," Blair whispered. "Have to run the blade the opposite direction to make sure we take off every bit of stubble," Blair answered as he wrung the towel out, folding it and then laying it over Jim's face for the second time. "After all, we want you nice and smooth," Blair pointed out as he took a moment to trace the edge of a nipple with his thumb. Jim's hand came up and captured his wrist. Blair used his free hand to trace the muscles under the forearm for a second.

"My kink, you're just laying there, remember," Blair eventually said as he pushed Jim's arm back down to the bed. Picking up the bristle brush, he soaked and soaped it before pulling the warm towel off and again using small strokes to lather Jim's face. This time Jim watched with half-open eyes.

Blair retrieved the blade and slowly drew it from Jim's jaw up and over the round of his cheek. Trailing his fingers over the newly exposed skin, Blair could feel the perfectly slick surface.

"Feels good," Jim muttered, and for the first time, Blair wondered just how different it did feel for a Sentinel who could feel every single bit of stubble every time something touched his face. Blair turned his wrist and ran the back of a knuckle over the smooth skin. Jim's eyes darkened. "You better finish before doing that too much," Jim warned, and Blair gave his partner a smile before pulling the razor up and clearing another line.

Once he had finished Jim's face, he turned his attention to his neck, running the blade against the grain as he finished the shave. Rinsing the blade, Blair carefully closed it and set it aside as he pulled the towel out for a third time, rinsing Jim's face.

Grabbing a bottle, he poured out the cooling balm and smoothed it over his palms before bringing both hands up to cup Jim's cheeks. Slowly, he stroked his lover's face, letting this thumbs trace the small lines at the corners of his mouth and trailing his fingers down Jim's neck and to his collarbone. Bending down, Blair pressed his lips to Jim's and felt Jim's mouth open for him as they slowly kissed. Blair allowed a hand to wander down to Jim's boxers, and Jim hummed into his mouth.

Eventually, Blair sat up. "So, kinky enough for you?" he asked as he looked down into Jim's blue eyes.

"Definitely," Jim answered as he reached up and caught Blair's neck, pulling him back down into the bed. "Remind me to get shot more often," Jim sighed.

"Don't even think it," Blair threatened. "Man, if you want another shave, I'm very open to bribery."

"Bribes. I can do that," Jim said as a warm hand slid around Blair's waist and fingers crept under the waistband of his pants.

"Bribes are good," Blair agreed softly, reaching up to kiss Jim again, and if that gave the man's fingers more room to work, it was all good.

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