Trust Me

by Jane Davitt




"It won't hurt, Jim. What's the matter; don't you trust me?"

The wounded look in Blair's baby blues… and he'd sighed and let his eardrums get pierced by bat-squeak high pulses and only discovered after he'd torn the headphones off, cursing, his face screwed up in agony, that Blair had forgotten to turn the sound down before beginning to test Jim's auditory range.

"Jim, I swear… this isn't going to hurt a bit."

He hadn't screamed like a girl. He'd screamed like a man who'd just discovered that he had hair on his belly when Blair had ripped the tape off. The wound it'd been covering had hurt less.

"It's a very mild spice, Jim, and I'm positive, one hundred percent positive, that it's not going to make you react like the paprika did. That's it, just take a bite. Yeah… See? You like it, I knew you -- Jim? Jim! Oh my God, try and throw up, quick, get it out of your system --"

Hard to be scathingly sarcastic when he was retching, but afterwards, lying on his bed, stomach empty, he comforted himself with the memory of Blair's stricken, guilty look.

He'd tell the kid it was okay, he was forgiven, tomorrow. Let Blair sweat it out for one night at least. Oh God, where was his fucking bucket?

"It won't hurt. I'm going to be careful, God, so careful…"

Through the haze of lust, over the siren song of arousal in his ears, a warning bell sounded.

Jim turned, grabbed the lube, and shook it at Blair. "Use lots. Use all of it if you have to. I can buy more. One finger, just one -- let me look at it first… God, Chief, when did you last trim your fingernails? There is no way that's going anywhere near my ass. Ragged edges, Jesus, just shove a razorblade --"

"Jim!"

"What?"

"One, your sight's dialed up way too high. My nails are fine. Two, the razor thing -- God, just don't go there, okay? Way to kill the mood. And three, if you don't trust me to make this good for you, then what the hell are we doing here?"

"Don't trust --?" Jim sat up and wrapped his arms around Blair and hugged him until he felt the hurt leave the tense, rigid body. "Chief, I trust you, of course I do. And you've got my back, so I guess you can have my ass as well."

Blair gave a mollified grunt and Jim rolled over to his stomach.

And bit the pillow hard a moment later as a lube-slick finger was jabbed with way too much enthusiasm into an ass that was clenched tight with apprehension.

Bit it hard and forced himself to relax.

Better. Oh God, yeah, that felt… mmm… felt… ooh… good, yeah, good, yes -- what was this? Blair's cock, okay, fine, he was taking it slow, lube dripping, squelching -- shit, the sheets -- no, never mind the sheets, he didn't care about them.

Trust between partners was a beautiful -- He yowled. No other word fit.

"Oh God, what did you just do?"

Blair's chuckle was smug and happy as he rocked back and pushed in just right, just there, just -- oh God, yes -- "Told you to trust me…"


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