Disclaimers:
Summary:
Warnings:
Notes:
|
"
by
Blair's face was slowly reappearing from the golden haze, becoming distinguishable again. Jim felt his fingers ache with the effort of not reaching out and tracing the outline of that golden skin.
He lay back on the couch, focusing on Blair, who was as yet unaware that he could see shapes and faces and gestures, if not actual features yet. For once, Jim thought, I can watch my fill.
Blair talked with his hands, Jim noticed, something he'd never thought about before. And when his fingers traced the air, golden streaks followed behind them, making his hands look like those of an angel. Blair shook his head at something, talking furiously, and the light sparkled off of his hair, glorifying it.
"So, what *does* she look like?" Jim asked, trying to keep from getting lost in the curve of Blair's face.
He could hear Blair's laughter. "Oh, you'll see in a little while," he said. "Another day or so, maybe just a few hours, and your vision will be back to normal."
"What does the Chief say I should do to help them?" Jim asked.
"I have no prescriptions at the moment," Blair said. "If it seems to be working -- and whatever you're doing seems to be working -- don't change it."
"Yeah," Jim said. And promptly took a leap of faith. "Just laying here is boring," he said. "Talk to me, Blair."
He could see the faint outline of Blair's shoulders shrugging. "All right, man, whatever you want."
Blair moved around the couch and sat beside Jim, his hand resting casually next to Jim, their bodies warm against each other.
"So what do you want me to talk about?" Blair asked, his voice gone slightly lower, both in volume and register.
"Chief, why does your heartrate speed up whenever you get near me?" Jim said, noting the slight increase in the speed of the blood thundering through Blair's body.
Blair made a sound not unlike that of a trapped mouse. "It does?" he squeaked.
"Yeah," Jim answered, grinning. "It does."
"I thought I had that under control!" Blair exclaimed.
Jim looked up at him, and while he couldn't tell the exact expression on Blair's face, there was no mistaking the fact that he had his head in his hands and was muttering "oh, man, oh, man, oh man" under his breath.
"Calm down," Jim said. "I'm not going to kick you out just because you think I'm good-looking."
Blair spluttered. "I don't -- I mean -- I do -- but -- not like that -- well -- yeah -- like that -- but I didn't mean for you to know!"
Jim's hand moved on its own, snaking out and seizing the golden light that was Blair around the waist. "It's okay," he said. "Do you think I would have ever brought it up if I wasn't cool with it?"
Blair relaxed almost visibly and definitely sensually. "Oh. I guess not," he said.
Jim left his arm around Blair's waist. "'Cause I have something to say -- you're not the only one living in this loft who has his heartrate speed up whenever he gets near his partner."
Blair's head left his hands. "Do you mean that you -- " he couldn't seem to finish the thought.
"Yeah," Jim said, pulled Blair down, and kissed him.
He let his eyes remain open, and it was like kissing light incarnate, the warmth of Blair's mouth, the slow way his hair finally began to tumble across his shoulders, the sweet intrusion of Blair's tongue into Jim's mouth. Blair was warm all over, heat and light and beauty.
"You okay with this?" Jim asked after the kiss broke, though he could already tell, because Blair's heartbeat was running a race, and his skin was softly luminescent.
"Yeah, baby," Blair answered.
The kisses went from sweet and slow to hot and hungry in less than a hundred heartbeats, and Jim could see more of Blair every second. By the time they were stretched out full-length together on the couch, Jim's hands tangled in Blair's bright hair, their erections rubbing together with every move Blair made, Jim could see Blair's features, only the golden haze still clinging to him.
"Baby," he whispered, though he'd never been one for cutesy names, "you scared me so much in the garage the other day."
"Yeah," Blair gasped, "it seems we scare each other a lot, doesn't it?"
Blair didn't leave Jim a chance to answer that, just took his mouth again like it belonged to him, kissing him thoroughly. Jim let his tongue wander into Blair's mouth this time, probing the warm lushness of him.
And Blair moved against him, *right there*, and suddenly it was this close to too much and not quite near enough. He tore his mouth away, closed his eyes, moaned out a verbal mishmash that could have been a certain Guide's name, and thrust up hard into Blair's warm body, exploding at the feel of Blair's cock against his own.
The pleasure streaked behind his closed eyes in a mass of golden light, and when Jim dared to open them again, he could see almost perfectly, only the faintest of a residual haze hanging about.
Blair was still hard against him, and almost without thinking, he rolled them over and moved down the couch, pulling Blair's pants down to reveal the gold-lined cock, tight and hard. Blair was staring at him, open-mouthed, past the point of verbal niceties, so Jim did what came to mind first, leant down and took Blair into his mouth.
Blair was steel under satin in his mouth, warm and hard and right. The only sounds Blair seemed to be able to make were tiny whimpers, slightly louder when Jim found a special sweet spot, flicking his tongue just underneath the head of Blair's cock. He was panting harshly, fingers twisted into the mess that was his clothing, and Jim thought he had never looked more beautiful.
"Blair," he gasped around the erection in his mouth, and met his lover's eyes, seeing a world of love and trust and excitement there.
That was all it took. Blair came for him, moaning loudly, dropping limp against the couch, the sweet taste of Blair pouring into Jim's mouth.
They lay there for long moments, curled up in each other, silently brushing back locks of hair, exchanging gentle kisses, and promising things to each other with their eyes.
At last Jim spoke, very low. "I have never seen anyone more beautiful," he said, then added, teasingly, "You've got this golden glow around you..."
Blair laughed, and then met his eyes, perfectly serious. "So do you, baby," he said.
The Sentinel is the property of Pet Fly Productions.
All series, movies and characters are the properties of their respective owners. No infringement of those rights is intended. All fics on this site are the copyrighted property of their respective authors.
Site and design copyright © the other g.m.
All Rights Reserved.
