Show and Tell



"Jim? Can you come and stand over here?"

Jim gave him a puzzled look. "Babe… I'm naked," he glanced down, "hard, and draped across our bed. If there's something about that picture you don't like, this is a hell of a time to bring it up."

Blair grinned, letting his gaze take in the glory and the splendor of a sprawled out, expectant Jim. "There's nothing about the view I don't like. I just want you over here; indulge me, will you? I get on that bed and it'll be over soon and you'll be snoring in my ear and drooling on my shoulder and I want --"

"What?" Jim prompted, already moving, but doing it slowly, muscles rippling, all power and grace. Even knowing Jim was deliberately showing off didn't stop Blair's breath catching in his throat.

"Foreplay?" It wasn't that accurate a description, but he didn't really have a better one. He didn't really know what it was that he wanted to do, beyond a few vague thoughts; he just knew how he wanted it to begin -- and that required Jim standing.

Jim paused and then swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his feet on the floor, show over, just Jim, sitting there idly scratching his belly. Jim cleared his throat. "I wasn't planning on nailing your ass the second it hit the mattress, you know," he said mildly. "I might have spent, ooh, a minute or two kissing you, maybe a bit of ear-nibbling, a little --" He shrugged his shoulders and let his hand sketch out an amorphous shaped suggestion in the air. "Stuff," he finished. "Before the main event. Maybe even three minutes."

There was enough hurt behind the humor to make Blair wince. "Jim -- I'm not saying I'm not happy with our sex-life -- God, this isn't going the way I wanted it to, at all!"

Jim got up and walked over to him, then pulled Blair in close for a hug that enveloped him comfortingly. Hugging Jim when they were both naked was a treat. Once Jim let you inside his personal space, you were in, man, and he didn't mind how much skin you spread on him, how close you got; a thigh slid between muscled legs, cocks pressed up against bellies, arms straining to hold and keep and claim…

"Okay, I'm up," Jim murmured in Blair's ear. He accompanied the announcement with a slow rake of his fingernails down Blair's back and an even slower grind of his hips. With Jim occupied with placing leisurely kisses from Blair's earlobe down to his collarbone, Blair couldn't see his face, but he would have put money on it wearing a wicked grin in between the kisses.

It was nice. It was better than nice. It just wasn't what he wanted tonight.

With a wriggle, Blair broke free and stepped back. "Stay there," he said. "Don't do anything, okay? Just let me--"

"Let you what?" Hands on hips, Jim scowled impatiently. "Chief, it was simple, and now it's not. What's going on?"

Blair sucked in an exasperated breath. "Jim, if you don't shut the fuck up -- Trust me, will you? Though, honestly? The impulse is passing, man. I'm this close to sleeping downstairs tonight and you can take care of that, yourself."

Jim came as close to pouting as he ever did and dropped his hand to his erection, pumping it a few times, provocative, teasing. "Like this?"

Blair turned away, took three strides, and raised his fist. Before he could punch the wall, something he would've regretted big time, as brick wasn't plasterboard, Jim's hand captured his wrist. Jim moved fast when he wanted to. "No." Jim didn't hug him again, but his voice was serious now. "Don't, Blair. Please? I'm sorry. Whatever you want -- wanted -- to do, I'll do it. If not now, whenever you want to. I promise, okay?"

"Without knowing what it is?" Blair said challengingly, his anger still raw and red. "You trust me enough for that? Could be something weird, something you wouldn't like."

Jim shook his head, his gaze fixed on Blair's face with a painful intensity. "I doubt it. You've never done anything to me in bed I didn't love. Never done anything to hurt me, ever. I -- I don't --" He stumbled to silence and then took a deep breath. "I don't tell you this often. I don't tell you this enough, but I love you. Hell, I adore you. I worship you. I --"

"Hey, hey," Blair said, alarmed and touched in equal measure. Jim would regret spilling that much sentiment as much as Blair would've regretted the wall punch but once started, he was hard to stop. He put his hand over Jim's mouth gently, pushing back the waiting words. "I know. You don't have to say it, okay?"

The tension went out of Jim and he nodded. Blair let his hand slip away and kissed penitent, passive lips. "What you said; that's how I feel, too. All of it. And I don't say it, either. Don't want to, most of the time."

"We're guys..." Jim murmured.

"Yeah." They shared a quick, conspiratorial grin. "But it doesn't mean it's not there in my head, building up, and, man, sometimes -- sometimes, it needs out, you know?"

Blair gave up explaining it any more than that. He had a reputation for talking fast and furious, getting the message across with his mouth, and yeah, he supposed that was still going to happen, but not with words. They didn't need words.

Jim needed showing.

He slid to his knees and then kissed Jim's hip, his palms brushing lightly down Jim's legs. Without rushing, without ignoring the jut of cock or the tightening balls that showed him just how much Jim was getting into this, but without focusing on them either, he touched and kissed and tasted Jim's skin. From the smooth skin coating Jim's muscles like paint, to the musky, dark dampness of the hair curling coarsely around the base of his cock; from belly to ankles, with Blair's spine curved and bowed as he licked elegant, arched feet without feeling a shred of subservience or shame.

Then he stood, without Jim's help because Jim's hands were hanging by his sides, cupping air, holding kisses Blair had given each finger, each palm, each wrist, with the blood beating in a slow rush of heat against thin, fragile skin, and walked behind Jim. His mouth found the base of Jim's skull, sucking the sweetness of taut skin, sweat-prickled, while his hand slipped around Jim's waist and up to fondle the hard, blunt nipples.

Shoulders, back…finding the sharpness of bone under the shielding skin, until he was kneeling again, one arm slung around Jim's hips, his lips traveling over the solid, taut ass before him, dragging over the warm skin and feeling muscles tense and relax rhythmically, as they did when Jim was fucking him, plunging in, pulling out, a welcome, repeated invasion of his body.

But Jim wasn't moving now. He was still, a state he'd struggled to achieve at first, when Blair had been licking the head of his cock as it bumped against his lips, importunate and pleading. Now, Jim stood easily, relaxed, trembling slightly, but no more than that.

Blair exhaled, ran his hand down the back of Jim's thigh, and said, "I'm done."

Jim didn't turn, but his hand found Blair's and held it, squeezed it. Blair stroked his thumb over the back of Jim's knuckles and then stood, let Jim lead him over to the bed, let Jim have his turn to show him, tell him, make him see --



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