Endowment Policies

by Jane Davitt




"Damn this spam," Blair muttered, mass deleting a bunch of emails with a stab of his finger.

"What bug bit you? Or did you get spoiled for this week's Buffy?"

Blair shook his head. "Spam, Jim…spam. Unwanted emails. Junk mail. Unsolicited offers to give me a degree, medical drugs, millions of dollars, a larger penis…"

"Oh, that stuff. Not sure why you're upset; it sounds tempting. Go for it. Get me a million while you're at it."

"Tempting?" Blair sniffed. "Hardly. I can get the first by myself, I don't need the second, although I probably will after the inter-departmental ballgame, the third would bring more problems than it would solve, and the last one, well…" Blair smiled. "Got that covered."

"Why are you smiling?"

Crap, Jim could see his face reflected in the monitor.

"Just amused by the way the world's taken a new invention and is using it for the most trivial --"

"Cut the crap, Chief. 'Covered'?"

Blair turned his head, heat flushing his face. "I don't want to discuss my penis with you."

"I don't remember asking you to," Jim said. His voice was mild, but his knuckles were pale on the book he held. "I just asked why you were smiling."

"Because any bigger and I'd have trouble walking," Blair said recklessly. "Happy now?"

Jim pursed his lips. "You're not that big," he said eventually. "Not that you need to be. Well-endowed can be a curse, not a blessing."

"Oh, you'd know all about that would you?"

Jim flipped a page with an overly casual air of indifference. "Any bigger and I'd -- oh, sorry; didn't mean to steal your line."

"I meant about me," Blair said through his teeth. "So you've been looking?"

"Not intentionally," Jim said with an innocent flicker of his eyelashes "Just in passing. You know."

"No. How do you in passing catch an eyeful of my dick?"

Jim sighed, put his book down and began to tick off on his fingers. "Showers at the gym, when I went into your room without knocking to tell you Naomi was on the phone and you were, uh, busy, oh, and whenever you wear those black jeans that might as well be see-through. Seen you growing and showing, Chief. Nice package, appealing, even, but not…intimidating."

"You think it's nice? Appealing?" Blair said, abandoning outraged male pride in favor of a lunge at the jugular. "Odd choice of words for a straight man."

Jim met his gaze steadily. "Perfect choice for someone who isn't."

"Oh, you --" Blair didn't get past the choked words to the end of his sentence, because Jim was unzipping, reaching in, taking out -- "Oh my God."

Jim ran his finger over the long, limber length and smiled as it thickened and grew. "Feeling intimidated now?"

Blair swallowed, unsure of what to say. Six inches, maybe seven if Jim kept stroking it. Totally average, completely unremarkable -- except it was Jim's dick, dammit, and it was being offered up for him to look at -- touch -- oh God, the things he could do to it!

And if he let Jim suspect for one moment what he thought about Jim's equipment, he'd never get a chance to do any of them.

"Yeah," he said as he began to walk across the room toward Jim, a slow saunter, rolling his hips, giving Jim something to look at and watching the result, "totally intimidated. Completely."

Jim smiled, a slow, satisfied smirk, very primal, very arrogant.

Blair didn't care. He had an inch on Jim, easy, and as long as he kept Jim too busy to make comparisons…


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