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by
Blair looks up at the sky. Clear as a bell, the stars are twinkling brightly on the night of the summer solstice. Bending down, he takes a match and lights it, and tosses the lit match into the fire pit that he'd dug earlier in the day.
Watching the small flames grow into a bonfire, Blair strips carefully and folds his clothes, putting them under the nearby tree, far out of his way. The rim of the fire pit is lined with smooth rocks from the riverbed, and he holds his arms out, urging the flames to jump higher and higher.
"You know, a lot of primitive tribes, they believe that fire is a living spirit. The Indians consider it a sacred provider of warmth and protection. And to the Polynesians, it's a god. "
The flames leap in Blair's bright eyes as he turns on the boom box he'd brought, listening to the drums and the rhythms and letting them flow through his body. Stretching his arms out, he reaches towards the fire, feeling its heat on his hands and his face. His feet pound on the hard ground as he starts to move, his body twirling and spinning.
His eyes are shut now, his head and shoulders rolling with the drums as he moves in a circle around his fire pit. He arches his neck back, opening his mouth and letting an ululating cry pierce the night.
Blair is beginning to sweat, he can feel it rolling down his skin as he dances, and his hands begin to touch himself all over, sliding, caressing, stroking himself as he anoints himself with the sweat of the dance. His body moves more sensually now, twisting and thrusting towards the fire as though offering himself to his lover.
And the flames reach out, popping, jumping and crackling towards the dancing figure as the light slides through his hair and jumps into his now-open eyes as he watches the fire dance with him. His body is a swaying counterpoint to the leaping and the dancing of the flames as his hips and feet move to the pounding rhythms of the drums.
The drums start to rise in tempo as does Blair's motions, dancing in rhythm with the drums. Finally he lifts his head and catches the eye of his lover across the fire pit as the drumbeats speed faster and faster, as heartbeats pound faster at the oncoming rush of orgasm.
The drums are throbbing now, past the pounding stage and the fire is at its zenith. Blair's body is moving in a frenzy, bending, bowing, whipping, twisting and turning, his arms outstretched to the fire.
As the drums crash to a finish, Blair's body drops, and as the silence of the night descends again, the only sound that the Sentinel hears is the harsh breathing of his lover, the pounding heartbeat of the exhausted dancer, and the popping of the fire.
Blair's posture is frozen as there is a pause in the music and then there is a very soft woodwind tweet heralding the start of the next piece. But the drums are quiet, only the woodwinds play as Jim looks at his lover. Blair is still frozen, his eyes locked on the Sentinel as they plead for him to approach. His arms are outstretched towards the fire, his body prostrated almost flat on the dirt as his head is thrown back, his mouth open soundlessly as his legs lay curled beneath him.
Jim answers his lover's wordless need, then as he does even the woodwinds stop and there is perfect silence except for breathing and pounding hearts as Blair breaks his pose and rises smoothly to his feet, meeting a barefoot Jim halfway around the pit.
Jim puts his hands on Blair's naked skin, the heat from the fire-hot skin almost branding him. The drums start again almost by magic as Blair's hands start to rip at Jim's clothing, dragging the shirt and jeans off, throwing them aside under the tree to land beside Blair's.
Blair's scent burns in Jim's nose, the aroma of sweat and fire-smoke tingling and mixing with Blair's natural musk work to produce a primitive, arousing aroma in his nose as he growls. Blair plasters himself to Jim's body, searing the Sentinel's skin as he starts to move, moving their bodies together to show Jim the steps of the dance. "Feel what's inside you, Jim," Blair whispered, not daring to speak aloud. "Dance for us both."
The drums pounded in Jim's blood, awakening the primitive Sentinel inside and Jim does move as Blair holds tightly to him, their bodies sliding together on a sheen of sweat as Jim's body twists and bows, echoing some of Blair's previous moves as the Guide whispers encouragement. Closer and closer Jim draws to the fire, unable to stop or feel anything but his blood coursing through his veins to the beat of the drums.
Jim couldn't stop moving, couldn't stop feeling Blair's skin searing against his as they slid together, couldn't stop the pounding his blood, his body, his heart, or his head. He lost himself in the throbbing of the drums, his entire being centered on the man that clung to him, and the drums in his blood.
Then suddenly, the drums stop and Jim collapses with Blair in his arms. Drained, Jim cannot believe the creature he'd just become until he became aware of Blair raining gentle kisses on his face. "Jim... you are so beautiful like this, the fire in your blood... you are everything I've ever wanted. I love you."
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