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Title: Something To Talk About
Author/pseudonym: the lady of shalott
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: J/B

Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, and this disclaimer won't save me if the owners come after me with their slavering lawyers, but I'm not making any money off it so hopefully they won't.

Notes: Based on the song of the same name by Bonnie Raitt. The lyrics are at the end for the curious, although I don't actually use them in the story. The song is fun, but the credit for the inspiration really goes to Cybel Harper's wonderful Senvid set to the song. :) Thanks for the tape, Cybel!

Summary: Rumors are flying about Jim and Blair, much to their surprise.

Warnings: None

"They're both so hot."

"Mm-hmm. Love those jeans."

"Don't you mean, love what those jeans are covering?"

Jim grinned to himself at the muffled giggling as he reached over Blair's arm to get the half-and-half for his coffee. He normally tried his best to tune out other people's conversations, but occasionally one would catch his ear and refuse to be ignored. Fortunately, he mused to himself as he lifted the mug for that first hot gulp, in this case the old adage that eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves was being disproven.

The soft laughter subsided in favor of sighs.

"Too bad they're together."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, everyone knows they're a couple."

Blair nearly jumped out of his skin as Jim choked loudly, spitting his coffee all over the counter. "Whoa! Are you OK?" He snagged a few napkins to mop up the mess while patting Jim comfortingly on the back.

"I'm fine!" Coughing, Jim grabbed a napkin away from Blair, trying unsuccessfully to mop up the stains on his shirt. He studiously avoided the inquisitive gaze he could feel on his face. "Damn!" He threw the wadded-up napkin in the trash a little too forcefully.

Blair sniffed at Jim's coffee, then tasted it cautiously. "Tastes the same as always..."

"There's nothing wrong with the coffee," Jim snapped automatically.

"Not the coffee? OK, so what did you overhear?"


But Blair had caught the change of tone and the very faint tinge of pink to his partner's cheeks. "Don't even try to give me that, man."

"I don't want to talk about it right now, Chief." Jim dampened a paper towel and dabbed at the spots, only succeeding in making his shirt wet as well as stained.

Blair sighed and muttered, "Fine. I'll get it out of you later. And that's not going to do any good, so you might as well give up while you're still dry."

"Too late," Jim sighed.

"So, are you going to tell me what was up with you today?"

Sinking onto the couch with a beer as the Jags game started, Jim groaned mentally as he realized that Blair, far from having forgotten the earlier incident, had just been waiting to corner him. "It was no big deal."

"Uh-huh. Sure. Come on, man. You spilled coffee all over yourself, then spent the rest of the day staring at your computer screen and barely got any work done." Blair pulled up a chair and straddled it in reverse, looking at him with bright inquisitiveness.

When Jim stayed quiet, the anthropologist heaved a sigh. "OK. I'll just start guessing then." He ticked possibilities off on his fingers. "Rhonda and Marie have hatched a vile plot to substitute Krispy Kreme donuts for Dunkin Donuts in the morning spread. Simon is planning to send you undercover as a circus clown. Joel and Rafe--"

Jim was trying hard not to snort beer out his nose. "Enough, Sandburg. Choking once in a day is enough by me."

"Come on, man, give!"

"It was just a wild rumor."

Blair pounced. "So why not tell me?"

"All right, all right." Jim knew when he was licked. "You're not going to believe this," he warned.

"Just tell me already!"

"OK... well, a few of the secretaries... well," he floundered, blushing faintly, "they think we're... a couple."

blink blink went the blue eyes. "Us? As in you and me? As in lovers?"

"I told you it was crazy. I mean, where the hell did that idea come from?"

Blair folded his arms over the back of the chair and leaned his chin on them, tapping a finger against his lips absently. "Wow." He perked up suddenly. "Hey, that is awesome news!"

Jim stared. "Uh. How, exactly?"

"Well, I've had no luck getting dates at the PD lately. Practically every woman I've talked to there is really nice and friendly, and they flirt with me plenty, but I've been getting nowhere. I really thought I was losing my touch or something. But I guess it's just that they think we're together." Blair beamed happily.

Jim shook his head with a half-grin. "Sandburg, only you could possibly be glad to find out that half your office thinks you're gay."

"Come on, man, what do you expect me to do? Throw a fit or something? What difference does it make what people think?"

"You don't think people are going to treat us differently?"

"Jim, the rumor's probably been going around for a while. Have you noticed anything different?"

Swigging his beer, Jim considered. Now that he thought about it, Rafe and Brown had been giving them odd looks from across the bullpen for a few days the other week. But that had stopped fairly quickly. "Not really."

"So? It's just the usual office gossip, man. Quickest way to make it go away is to just ignore it."

"Yeah. I just have to wonder where this came from. I mean, it's not like we act like a couple."

Blair shrugged. "Maybe because we live together. People don't know about the Sentinel thing, so they come up with other reasons why we stick together all the time."

"I guess." Jim settled back and relaxed, letting the concern go. Blair was right, it obviously wasn't going to be a problem, strange as it was. He snuck a glance over at his partner. Sure, Blair had long hair. And a couple of earrings. And he was definitely attractive. But how could anyone think...? Jim shook his head in bafflement, then returned his attention to the game.

Blair peeked over at Jim a few moments later. The rumor did seem pretty weird, now that he thought about it. OK, so Jim was pretty much the embodiment of the phrase 'stud'. And he was pretty touchy-feely in comparison to his image. But aside from the fact that Jim was obviously 100% straight, they were total opposites. Of course, it didn't keep them from being good friends. And there was that old saying about opposites attracting. But the two of them? Having sex? Blair suddenly burst out laughing.

Dubiously eyeing his chortling roommate, Jim asked, "You feel like sharing whatever the voices in your head have come up with this time?"

"Oh man," Blair gasped out. "I just got this hysterical image of us about to get into bed together for wild sex..."

Jim's eyes widened. "Uh huh..."

"...but instead we end up arguing over whether it's ok to just throw our clothes on the floor or whether we have to fold them first." Blair laughed harder. "Man, I can just see you trying to bribe me into putting my stuff away with blow jobs."

"Sandburg!" Jim threw a couch pillow at him, laughing despite himself at his partner's silliness.

"Watch your back, Chief." One hand resting on the smaller man's shoulder, Jim leaned over Blair as Jenny came by with the donuts, snagging a glazed one for himself. Hearing her heartbeat accelerate, he glanced at the blonde young woman in surprise. A tiny, knowing little smile hovered on her lips as she carried the tray along. He suddenly realized that he could feel the warmth of Blair's body penetrating through his sweater, that he was all but lying atop his partner. Flushing, he pulled back abruptly, nearly dropping the sticky pastry as he sat back down and adjusted his chair so he and Blair were at more of a distance.

Aside from an inquisitive glance, Blair didn't comment, preoccupied with his hunt through the mounds of paperwork sitting in Jim's inbox. "Hey, where did I put that file we were working on? The one with the gang of crossdressing muggers?"

"It's right there--" Jim almost put a hand on Blair's shoulder to point him at the file, but half-rose and grabbed the file instead, dropping it in front of Blair instead of handing it to him.

Blair gave him an odd look. "Thanks," he said slowly.

Lunchtime rolled around, and Jim automatically reached out to toss Blair his jacket as he shrugged into his own. Blair's narrowed eyes didn't miss the sudden tension in the half-extended arm as he retracted the gesture. Jim looked around a little edgily, trying to see if there was anyone else he could invite to go along with them.

Blair grabbed Jim's elbow and squeezed unobtrusively. "Let's go," he hissed under his breath.

Jumping a little at the pressure, the first physical contact he'd had with Blair since the early morning, Jim nodded and followed after, unconsciously rubbing his elbow where the warmth of Blair's touch lingered.

Sliding into a booth at the diner, Jim checked out the other patrons a little nervously, wondering whether there were any other PD personnel there. Blair sighed gustily and poked Jim with the menu. "Come on, man, let's order."

"What? Oh, right." Jim shifted his attention to the menu, staring at it fixedly and avoiding Blair's eyes.

A small frown settled between Blair's eyes as he watched Jim. Experimentally, he stretched his legs out under the table so they brushed lightly against Jim's. The older man visibly jerked and moved his legs away. Blair let his head fall back against the cushions with another long-suffering sigh and decided to take matters into his own hands.

When his yogurt shake arrived, Blair carefully took aim and managed to splatter nearly all of his side of the booth with the creamy white froth while still jumping out of the way in time to avoid splattering himself. "Whoops."

"Nice going, Chief," Jim observed, his mouth twitching a little.

"Hey, at least I didn't get any on me." Blair dumped a few paper napkins on top of the mess, then slid in next to Jim, pressing their sides together.

Jim fidgeted uneasily as the heat from that contact flushed through him, a line of fire spreading from ankle to shoulder. "I'm sure they'll clean it up soon," he stammered a little, squeezing himself back into the corner of the booth as Blair edged a little further inwards. He looked around anxiously as Blair moved even closer, then actually reached down and slid him a little further away.

"I knew it! Jim, what are you doing?" Blair turned on the seat and glared at him.

"Huh? What am I doing? You're the one trying to climb into my lap, Sandburg."

"You're the one acting like I've suddenly developed cooties, Jim," Blair said pointedly. Jim flushed guiltily. "What is it? Is it this whole rumor thing? Because I've got to tell you, the way you're acting, anyone who doesn't believe it is going to start believing it pretty soon."

"I'm not 'acting' any way..."

Blair rolled his eyes. "Come on, man. You touch me all the time. At work, in the car, restaurants, whatever. We've been squeezed together a lot closer than we were just now, and you didn't have a problem with it then. Stop being so self-conscious."

Jim opened his mouth, then paused. "Ah, hell," he sighed, slumping back against the cushions. "I guess it's just... now I feel like everyone's watching us, drawing some kind of wacko conclusions from everything we do."

"Look, Jim, people like gossip. They're going to talk about something. For now, it's us. We just need to ignore it and act the way we always do, and pretty soon everyone will get bored and move on to another topic." Blair reached out and put a hand on Jim's arm. "When we touch each other, it's like making a connection, puts us in tune with each other, you know? If you consciously stop doing it, it's going to feel awkward, the way things have been all day. I don't want us to lose that sense of being comfortable with each other, and I especially don't want to lose it over what people might think."

Jim's wry smile broke out, and he nodded a little. "All right," he said, then deliberately stretched out, letting his thigh rest against Blair's. Blair grinned back at him and pressed back with his own leg for a moment before digging into his salad.

"Hey, can you move that rock out of the way?"

Jim glanced down and saw a fist-sized stone on the grass near his foot. "Out of the way of what?" he asked, kicking it aside.

"The blanket." Blair vigorously shook out a slightly tatty quilt, managing to get a corner of it draped over Jim's head. "Oops, sorry." He grinned unrepentantly as Jim emerged with mussed hair and glared at him.

Jim watched Blair spread the blanket out and slip off his shoes. "Getting comfy, Chief? This is supposed to be a stakeout, not a picnic."

"It's a sunny afternoon and we're in the park. What were you planning on doing, standing around with your arms folded? Like that wouldn't look a little obvious." Blair settled down crosslegged and tugged his backpack over. "Sit down, chill out."

Shrugging, Jim gave up and stretched out next to him, but raised a hand in protest as Blair pulled out a couple of dark bottles. "Whoa, hold it right there, Sandburg--"

"Will you relax?" Blair said, shoving one into his hand. "It's non-alcoholic."

Jim scrutinized the bottle. "I hate nonalcoholic beer."

"Complain, complain, complain," Bliar muttered, giving up his search for a bottle opener and trying to twist off the cap.

"I heard that." Jim reached out and took the bottle from Blair, pulling off the cap with a brief effort, then handed it back and opened his own. "Not too bad, I guess." He balled up his jacket and tucked it under his head, making sure he was elevated enough to have a good view of the distant curve in the footpath where the muggers had been striking lately.

"These guys are pretty smart, you know," Blair said, flipping through the file. "By dressing like women, they ensure their victims don't perceive them as a threat until they get close, and they don't look suspicious once they get away even if someone sends up a shout or something."

"Yeah. And they're pretty careful not to make a move where anyone can see them. These guys aren't just small-time -- they've gotten thousands of dollars in the last month, and they put a couple of their victims in the hospital." He snorted. "Not to mention that the mayor's pissed off over the negative press coverage."

"Well, that's why Simon put us on this one. With your sight, you should be able to id them even from here -- provided they don't notice you looking suspicious. Then you tip off the guys at the end of the footpath." Blair gave Jim a stern look. "And you *don't* go charging down at them."

"I'm not going to," Jim protested, although he privately acknowledged it would be hard to simply sit quietly and let the suspects get taken in by someone else. "Not unless it looks like the victim's in danger of getting hurt."

"Good. And anyway, hopefully they'll take the bait and go after the policewoman we've got jogging this route." Blair stuffed the folder back into his bag and eased himself down, resting his head on Jim's stomach.

Jim scowled at him. "Since when am I your personal pillow?"

"You're not really a good one. Too hard." Blair lifted his head and rubbed his palm in a circle over the taut muscles of Jim's gut. "Try and relax your abdominals. The muscles are too tight. You're going to pull something that way."

Jim felt his breath coming a little faster at the stroking, swallowed nervously as Blair lay his head back down. He stared fixedly at the distant path.

Snuggling down a little, Blair could dimly hear Jim's heartbeat echoing under his head. Wasn't it going a little fast? He raised his head for a moment and peered down at the trail. Still no sign of anything going on. He put his head back down. Despite his earlier complaint, resting against Jim was actually fairly comfortable. He grinned quietly to himself, glad he'd poked Jim out of his rumor-induced hangups earlier.

Jim involuntarily shivered as he felt Blair's lips curve, the layer of thin cotton between him and the side of Blair's face no protection against the sensation. His sense of touch apparently decided that he really needed more detail in that area, escalating until every soft puff of breath Blair took became a gentle caress over his abdomen and groin.

The nervous quiver and the slightly panting quality to Jim's breathing caught Blair's attention. He was lying on Jim, and Jim was... getting turned on? He blinked. Then he thought about the implications of Jim getting turned on by him. Suddenly, his own jeans were starting to feel a little constricting. "Oh, man."


"Uh, nothing... just a pebble or something," Blair quickly covered. Experimentally, he squirmed a little. Yep, Jim was definitely reacting.

His eyes glazing, Jim tried to hold still as Blair kept wiggling around in a maddening way. What was happening to him? When had he started noticing how good Blair looked, lying on his back, hair tousled and loose, the moist fullness of his lips open just a little, legs stretched out and relaxed... He gulped.

Blair had just about got up the courage to say something when Jim straightened up abruptly and grabbed for his handset. "Oof!" His head slid off Jim's midsection and onto the ground. "Hey! Nice to give a guy a little warning."

Jim ignored him, eyes already dilated to inky blackness as he spoke. "We have two perps in sight. First one's about 5-10, short brown hair, wearing black spandex shorts and a loose white T-shirt. He appears to be wearing fake breasts. And I don't want to hear a word from you, Brown."

Blair heard muffled snickers coming over the set and hid a grin of his own, even as he rested a hand on Jim's shoulder to keep him from zoning out and squinted down at the footpath.

"Second perp is about 6-0, long blond hair in a ponytail, also wearing lycra shorts and a T-shirt with a gingerbread man on the front and ten reasons it's better than a real man on the back." Jim's voice was dry. "He also appears to have fake breasts on." He paused. "Hang on, guys. Looks like our lucky day. They've marked Fandor and have split up to bracket her. Sandburg and I will come up from the rear. You two move in to take them as they come out of the woods." After hearing confirmation, Jim quickly switched off the handset. "Come on, Chief."

Blair scrambled down the hill after Jim, pushing other thoughts aside for the moment.

With a satisfied thump of his pen, Jim signed off on the last piece of paperwork. "There we go. Nice and easy for once."

"Smooth as silk," Brown confirmed, dropping off his share of forms on top of Jim's. "Nice work, man. I still want to know how you figured those for falsies from that far away." He grinned cheerfully.

"I still want to know who took the rest of my drinks," Blair grumbled. By the time he'd returned to the quilt, the rest of the six-pack in his knapsack had vanished.

"Hey, just tell the mayor that it got taken by some Rottweilers dressed as poodles, maybe it'll get assigned to Major Crimes," Rafe said as he handed over his stack. "Can't believe they made us work this one."

"Relax, man. They'll be piling on the heavy ones again tomorrow," Brown slapped Rafe on the back. "We're taking Jessica out for drinks to celebrate. You two want to join us?"

"Jessica?" Jim asked blankly.

Blair poked him. "Lt. Fandor, Jim."

"Oh, right. Nah, you go ahead," Jim said. "I've still got to get this stuff in to Simon." He waved as they headed off. "You don't need to hang around here either, Chief. It'll be another hour or so before I'm done."

"OK. I'll go home and make dinner," Blair said, glad of something to do besides sit around and think things to death. "Italian good?"

"Sounds great."

"OK, man, I'll see you later."

A couple of hours later, Blair slid the buttered, garlic-smeared bread into the oven and fell into a chair with a sigh. Nothing left to do now but wait for Jim to show up. And think about what he was going to say. 'Would you like to start seeing each other' had the benefit of being straightforward and polite, but it was a little... anemic. On the other hand, 'let's go upstairs and have sex' was probably going a little too far in the other direction. Definitely going too far, Blair sternly reprimanded the portions of his anatomy that wanted to contest that opinion.

There was always the coy option. 'Hey Jim, you know that rumor that was going around about us? Well, I've been thinking, it would be a shame to disappoint everyone...' What was he thinking? If he used that line, Jim would probably stare at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"Hell, maybe I should spare both of us any of these idiotic lines and just jump his bones the minute he walks through the door," Blair said aloud.

A loud shattering of glass sounded outside the door to the loft.

Blair folded his arms on the table and lay his head down. His muffled voice floated out, "I hope that wasn't an expensive bottle."

The door unlocked and slid open, revealing a very irritated Jim Ellison, his pants spattered from ankle to knee with the distinctive purple blotches of red wine. "The bottle wasn't that expensive before I added the price tag of the pants on to it."

Staring at the mottled spots all over Jim's pants, Blair decided that fate or someone else had definitely taken a hand here and he could just give up and let them take care of it. He promptly started laughing.

Jim glared back at him. "Sandburg, I swear to God, if you timed that line just so I'd drop the damn bottle--"

"You... you can... wear them with the shirt! The coffee-stained one..." Blair hiccuped madly with laughter. "Same pattern!"

Slamming the door shut, Jim stalked into the kitchen and wiped at his pant legs with some paper towels. "You're killing me, Chief," he informed Blair in a growl. "First you throw that line at me, now you're laughing?"

"Well," Blair sat up and weighed the choices in his hands, "as I see it, we've got three choices. We can laugh, cry, or have sex." He looked up expectantly at Jim.

"And out of those three, you prefer to laugh?" Jim tossed the wad away and faced Blair.

"I can laugh on my own, Jim. Takes two to tango, you know?" Blair watched hopefully as Jim walked out of the kitchen and over to him, his eyes brightening as the taller man leaned over and slid a hand into his hair.

"So let's tango." Jim took Blair's mouth with his own.

Blair closed his eyes and let his head rest in the cup of Jim's hand, relaxing utterly as Jim feasted on his mouth, suckled his tongue, explored every dark, secret hollow. "Man," he said a little dazedly when they parted. "What happened to worrying about what people will say?"

"Let 'em talk." Jim's eyes were smoky as he leaned down for another kiss.

"Mmm..." Blair sat up in protest as Jim suddenly moved away from him. "Hey, where are you going?"

Jim yanked open the oven and pulled out the garlic bread. "Saving dinner from getting burned." He put the bread on the table. "Smells great -- let's eat."

"Eat? Eat!? You kiss me so hard I practically pass out, and now you want to eat?" Blair looked offended.

"Sandburg, if you're passing out after one kiss, you're damn right I want us to eat, because I plan on doing a lot more than just kissing, and I want you conscious for all of it." Jim's eyes, fixed on Blair's slightly widened ones, were positively predatory as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

Meekly dishing himself some pasta in between cautious peeks at Jim, Blair wondered with not-entirely-clinical interest whether Sentinel abilities translated into a heightened sex drive and what sorts of things Jim was actually planning on. He made it halfway into dinner before actually asking some of the questions buzzing around his head. "Hey, Jim?"


"Do you actually know what you're doing, here?" Blair waved a piece of garlic bread around euphemistically. "Because, I mean, I've never exactly done this before."

Jim choked on his linguine and had to down most of a glass of water and have his back pounded. "Define 'this', Sandburg," he said warily when he recovered.

"Well, um, if you want to get technical about it, I've never had a sexual experience with another man." Blair stepped back a little at the expression on Jim's face.

"Tell me I'm not reading this all wrong, Chief. You were trying to seduce me here, right?"

Blair sat back down and toyed with his pasta. "Hey, it was looking kind of mutual to me there, big guy."

Jim smacked himself on the forehead. "What were you planning to do if it worked?"

Blair bounced around a little on his chair. "I kind of figured we'd just do whatever came naturally." He paused. "Jim, are you trying to say that you *don't* know what you're doing?"

"How the hell would I know what I'm doing? I went into the military straight out of high school and I started dating Caroline almost as soon as I got out of the military."


Jim glared at him. "There was this policy back then, Sandburg," he pointed out. "And it wasn't 'don't ask, don't tell'."

"Come on, man, you have got to be kidding me. All those months out on jungle missions and you never got hit on once?" Blair eyed Jim in appreciative disbelief.

"Yes, I got hit on," Jim said stiffly. "I said no. I'm not into living a double life, Sandburg, just in case you have some idea about keeping this in the closet--"

"Me?" Blair said incredulously. "In the closet? Are you kidding? But aren't we getting a little ahead of ourselves?"

"What do you mean?"

"Uh, Jim, we haven't actually established that we know how to do anything that would actually involve us being in the closet to get out of." Blair nibbled on a piece of garlic bread thoughtfully. "I suppose I could always go check out some books from the library."

"Let's go with your original plan," Jim said hastily.

"What original plan-- oh, the 'do what comes naturally' one?" Blair looked down at his cold pasta and congealing sauce, set down his fork, and stood up. "Sounds good. How about now?"

Jim stared at his own plate and swallowed nervously, then stood up. They hovered at opposite ends of the table for a minute, both shifting their weight, until they finally caught each other's eyes and started grinning. They met halfway around the table, Jim's arms wrapping around Blair, Blair sliding his hands under Jim's shirt and pressing on his back, their lips merging with easy warmth.

They ended up necking on the couch, shirts hanging unbuttoned and loose while their hands wandered happily over flushed skin. By the time they broke for air, foreheads pressed together, they were both hot and bothered in the best sense of the words.

"Why don't we move upstairs?" Jim suggested.

"Mmm-hmm," Blair emphatically agreed, nuzzling at the exposed hollow of his throat.

After a few minutes of being nibbled on, Jim poked Blair a little breathlessly. "Sandburg, I'm not going to carry you."

"Mmmph?" Blair's mumble sounded very disappointed.

Jim muttered under his breath and stood up, then heaved Blair over his shoulders in a fireman's carry.

"Hey!" Blair squirmed a little, trying to get off, then gave up as Jim headed up the stairs. "And they say romance is dead," he disgruntled from the awkward position.

With a snort of laughter, Jim dumped him on the bed. "You wanted to be carried, you got carried."

Blair flopped on his back. "What would I get if I asked for flowers? A bunch of dead sticks?"

Jim tossed his shirt over the dresser and climbed onto the bed next to Blair, running a hand through the dark curls dusting his chest. "If you were lucky," he murmured against the soft skin of his neck, kissing and licking up the arched column and ending up at the tender earlobe.

Blair quivered slightly as Jim nibbled on his ear, then reached down to unbutton their pants. They both sighed with relief as the pressure on their erections eased off. Jim sat up and shoved off his pants, then helped Blair wriggle out of his jeans. Holding out his arms, Blair invited Jim down.

"I'm going to crush you," Jim protested, trying to support his weight on his elbows.

"I'm not that fragile." Blair tugged Jim down firmly and wrapped arms and legs around him. "Mmm." He kissed the underside of Jim's chin, enjoying the solid weight atop him.

Jim relaxed and let his hands tangle into Blair's curling hair as he dived back into his mouth. They started moving in an instinctive rhythm, the whispering of silk and cotton a counterpoint to their soft moans.

Blair slid his hands into Jim's boxers, cupping and kneading the firm globes of his ass. "You're so hard," he breathed softly into Jim's ear. "Love touching you. Love you on top of me." He let one finger wander between the cheeks, dusting over the anus and perineum before it rubbed at the base of the dangling ball sac.

"Baby!" Jim shuddered and thrust more aggressively, feeling the ridged, warm length of Blair's cock against his through the silky fabric. Musk, rich and enticing, pawed at his senses. "Need to taste you," he said roughly. "All of you." Mouth watering, he reared up and pounced on one dusky nipple, teeth rolling over the yielding nub carefully as his tongue laved the tip. "Like that?" At the answering moan, he smiled against the salt-laced flesh and repeated the process on the other side.

Catching at the sheets, Blair quivered in happy breathlessness. "More, more. Yes, please, please," he panted shamelessly as Jim's onslaught continued, leading the close-cropped head over his navel and down to the rigid length of his sex, nestled in crisp dark curls.

"Relax, baby, I'm coming," Jim promised with a wicked grin. Blair's comeback dissolved into a long sigh as Jim covered the hard shaft with long, broad strokes of his tongue, collecting the succulent moisture gilding the head. Nuzzling the ball sac with his nose, he licked at the creases of Blair's thighs before drawing one firm oval into his mouth and sucking.

Blair's hips were doing an impatient little bouncing dance against the sheets now, twisting and bucking under Jim's controlling hands. Lifting his head for a moment, Jim laughed softly as Blair wriggled beneath him, making little wordless pleading cries. Eyes shining, he stroked a possessive hand over the flat, dark-furred stomach and firm thighs, then took hold of the hips and lowered his head to the eagerly waiting cock.

When the hot mouth finally enveloped him, Blair nearly jumped off the bed in pleasure, trying to fly off in a hundred directions, thrust straight ahead, and stay perfectly still all at the same time. Being restrained by Jim only turned up the excitement, sending all the impulses to move inside. He was left quivering helplessly on the sheets as Jim took in the head of his cock, tongue sliding further down to lap at the rest of the shaft. A large hand wrapped securely around the base, fingers stroking gently over the tender skin.

After a few tentative pulls, Jim increased the pressure gradually until Blair began moaning appreciatively, then started swirling his tongue over the head as he suckled. His hand pumped up and down steadily, but in only a few moments Blair gasped out a quick warning and came, hot spurts of cream flowing over Jim's hand.

Flopping bonelessly on the sheets, Blair moaned, "Oh god. Oh god. Oh GOD."

Flush with triumph, Jim slid up next to him, nuzzling at Blair's neck with little bites. He reached his now-slick hand between Blair's thighs, sliding a wet finger over the tight pucker of his anus tentatively. Although his eyes didn't manage to get open, Blair obligingly spread his legs and tilted his hips up a little, giving him access and permission all in one gesture.

Biting his lip, Jim pushed at the little opening, feeling his cock throb insistently as his fingertip popped inside and was immediately grabbed by the powerful muscles. He slowly pressed in deeper, wiggling the finger back and forth to loosen the tight grip. Watching his finger sink into Blair's body, Jim found himself imagining his cock in its place. His eyelids fell as he envisioned the head popping through that tight ring, followed by the rest of his rigid shaft, sinking into welcoming heat. He slid out, then plunged smoothly back into the warm embrace.

Shivering with pleasure, Blair sent a questing hand running over Jim's body, slender fingers closing around the rigid shaft pressing into his side. He stroked and squeezed, fingertips playing over the velvety skin. Soft moans stirred his hair where Jim had buried his face in the long curls as the taller man thrust into his grip. "Come on, babe." Blair nuzzled Jim's cheek. "Let it go. Yeah, that's it," he encouraged as Jim shuddered against him, cried out quietly and came in quick pulses.

Spent, they lay quiescent on the bed, a tangled, sticky mess of limbs and sheets. Jim groaned and moved first, struggling weakly with the twisted bedclothes. "Blair... Blair. I... oh man." He gave up and fell back against the sheets.

With a little moan, Blair wriggled over the bed and caught at the box of tissues on the nightstand. Rolling over with his prize, he cleaned Jim's body off first, then his own. "Mine," he whispered, dropping a kiss onto Jim's navel.

Jim shivered at the claim. "Yes." His arms felt like lead weights, but he managed to reach forward and tug Blair onto him, snuggling the warm body close. "Mine," he affirmed.

"Do you really think they're together? Because I was talking to Sam down in forensics yesterday, and she and Blair had a 'fling' just a few weeks ago."

"Really? Wow. I was sure they've been together for ages. Maybe they aren't gay after all."

"Well, maybe I should ask Blair out and make sure for myself."

Jim scowled into his coffee cup as he heard the other women quietly giggling and urging the first one on. When he heard her footsteps approaching the break room, he reached out and took Blair's mug away from him, setting it down on the counter. Blair looked up at him, puzzled, his eyes widening even more as Jim pulled him close and planted a hot, deep kiss on him.

If his mouth hadn't been fully occupied with other things, Jim would have been grinning smugly at the choked-off gasp of surprise that came a moment after the door opened. It shut very quickly, leaving them to break apart.

"What was that all about?" Blair asked, a little wobbly.

"Just giving people something to talk about," Jim murmured in satisfaction.

/ The End /


Something to Talk About
Bonnie Raitt

          People are talking, talking 'bout people 
          I hear them whisper, you won't believe it 
          They think we're lovers, kept under covers 
          I just ignore it, but they keep saying 
          We laugh just a little too loud 
          We stand just a little too close 
          We stare just a little too long 
          Maybe they're seeing something we don't, darlin' 

          Let's give them something to talk about 
          Let's give them something to talk about 
          Let's give them something to talk about 
          How about love? 

          I feel so foolish, I never noticed 
          You'd act so nervous 
          Could you be falling for me? 
          It took the rumor to make me wonder
          Now I'm convinced that I'm going under 
          Thinking 'bout you every day 
          Dreaming 'bout you every night 
          Hoping that you feel the same way 
          Now that we know it, let's really show it, darlin' 

          Let's give them something to talk about 
          Let's give them something to talk about 
          Let's give them something to talk about 
          How about love? 

          Let's give them something to talk about 
          A little mystery to figure out 
          Let's give them something to talk about 
          How about love, love, love?