Title

Title: To See The Light

Author/pseudonym: alyjude

Rating: NC17

Pairing: J/B

Category: Humor, first time

Date: March 12, 2001

Status: Complete, originally a zine story, over a year old

Disclaimer: I disclaim all knowledge of switching the chocolate flavored lube with Hershey's chocolate syrup. It is *NOT* my fault that Jim has put on a few pounds ---

Warning: Well - not really. Except once you start with the Hershey's syrup? They're never satisfied with flavored lube again.

Note: Originally published in Whispers of the Heart 2 - has been modified for posting.

Summary: Jim has a date - who drools over Blair - and the winner will be? Well, like - duh.

Blair sat in the middle of his bed surrounded by books, legal pads and notes. But he wasn't paying a bit of attention to any of it, preferring instead to contemplate his favorite subject; Jim Ellison.

Some would say it was too late to contemplate such a subject - or too early, it being after two in the morning, but Jim was on a date - meaning not home and that made him ripe for contemplation. Especially since the *date* was a guy - a fellow officer from the fifth precinct.

Why would that be worth mentioning? Because Jim was traditionally the picker-upper, not the pickup-ee and rules were rules. Like Jim rule number thirty-five or thirty-six; *Jim Ellison picks his dates *up*, they do *not* pick him up*.

So did that make this guy special? Did breaking rule number thirty-five or thirty-six make *this* guy, *the* guy? And if he was - what would that do to Blair?

And it should matter to Sandburg, why?

Because when he was absolutely honest with himself, like now, when he couldn't obfuscate one more minute, like now - well, damn it, he'd fallen hard for the man. And given Jim's preference for men, was it any wonder that Blair had thought giving the detective a few hints, like extra touches and looks, would give the man a clue as to how Blair felt?

Okay, Blair had never *actually* been with a guy before but damn, flirting was flirting whether the person you were flirting *with* had bodacious bodegas or a dick, right?

Or not, because Jim had missed the signals, the flirting - which meant either that flirting with a dick *was* different than flirting with bodacious bodegas or - Jim wasn't in the least bit interested in Blair Sandburg as a sexual feast. Okay, cool. Blair had suspected all along that he wasn't Jim's type. He simply wasn't - you know - *tall* enough.

Oh, man - Jim and his dates. Men or women, didn't matter, they were always tall and depending on gender, sultry or hunky and all mysterious.

Sandburg was none of the above. After all, how can one be *mysterious* if one never shuts up? Kinda takes all the mystery away, you know? And there was always the short thing. Yeah, he'd already said it, but it bore repeating - too short.

Blair started chewing on the ragged edge of his pencil, no longer contemplating Jim, but rather the question of why Blair stayed. Here.

In Jim's home.

And why did he continue to want someone he could never

have, knowing they would never want him...

Eternal optimist or closet masochist?

His choice, given the amount of danger he'd found himself in over the last few years - like bullets, bombs, falling elevators, terrorists and your basic general crazy person with a grudge, was, well, obviously - masochist. Maybe it was time to cut to the chase and just start sticking needles into his eyes - easier, you know?

He was giving that thought serious consideration when he heard Jim's key in the lock, soon followed by voices. Blair rose quickly and shot to the doors, bound and determined to see this new date if it killed him.

Jim ushered his date into the loft, both men laughing as they shrugged out of their jackets. As the front door shut, the door to Blair's room opened, a crack of light brightening the loft.

Both men turned to see a figure backlit, surrounded by a nimbus of gold, soft hair brushing against a pale blue tee shirt and light grey, soft combed sweat pants, *clinging* soft combed sweat pants nicely outlining the male form. Two separate, soft inhalations escaped from the two men who were frozen in place and one pair of pale blue eyes and one pair of bright green eyes took in the apparition before them.

The other man bolted past his date, shouldering him aside as he stuck out his right hand.

"Sam Murphy. You must be Jim's roommate?"

Blair looked up into jade green eyes and a handsome, hunky, smiling face, gave a brief thought to wouldn't it be nice if just once Jim would date someone Blair could look *down* to, then took the offered hand. "Good to meet you, Sam. And yeah, I'm Blair."

Jim, growing roots and still recovering from the electric charge his libido had sent to his groin at seeing Blair in the doorway, found himself suddenly angry.

"Sam, this is my roommate and partner, Blair Sandburg. Blair, this is Sam Murphy, my *date*."

No one missed the emphasis on *date*. Blair's eyes flicked up to Jim's as Sam, still holding his hand, said, "Gee, Jim, we've met."

Blair, oblivious to the aroused libidos swirling around him, said his good-nights claiming early class in the morning and nodding his *good to meet you* nod before turning back to his room and giving the two men an excellent view of the *rear* of those soft combed sweat pants.

Sam tore his eyes from the doors and faced his date and remarked sarcastically, "So, that was your roommate?" And with a bit more sarcasm, added, "The science *geek*?"

"Uh, huh. They weren't making science geeks like that when *I* was in school, Jim, old buddy. And if they had, lab would have taken on a whole new meaning."

Sam's face brightened. "You talked me into it, Jimbo." Not to mention, thought the homicide detective, that staying over would give him an opportunity to get another glimpse of the geek.

The loft was dark, everyone in bed. Sam turned on his side, settled deeper into the surprisingly cushy couch and thought about Jim Ellison.

They'd only had two dates so far, mostly because both men were leery of dating within the police department, and Sam had found Jim to be witty as well as a good conversationalist. *But* he was also a bit too - straight laced?

Sam liked adventure, spontaneity and kink. Hell, *tie me up, tie me down* was his favorite saying. To anyone who would listen. But Jim was more like Dudley Do-Right. And definitely non-kinky.

Fuck. He should never have thought of tying anyone up - or down because right now, on Jim's couch, in Jim's living-room, while using Jim's blanket, sheets and pillows, he was having a fantasy that *didn't* involve Jim.

Nope, instead, he was visualizing that sweet confection of perfect assdom, one Blair Sandburg, science geek supreme, spread-eagled on Sam's king size four poster, silk scarves wound lushly around ankles and wrists while Sam sent the gorgeous, willing, wiggling, writhing man into orbit.

Oh, man, this was *not* right. But it *was* only a fantasy. Harmless. Completely. But damn, how he wanted to make it a reality. And would that really be so wrong? Dating your date's roommate? Nah, clearly Jim wasn't interested in his roommate and what the hell was wrong with the guy, anyway? Jeesh, deaf, dumb *and* blind?

Sam flipped himself over, pounded the pillow and sighed deeply as he went back to his - harmless fantasy...

Above Sam, Jim shifted restlessly. Sleep was proving to be elusive thanks to his mind which was focused on Sam who was lying on his couch, using his pillows, sheets and blanket and probably dreaming about *his* Sandburg.

His date, sleeping a few feet from his roommate - dreaming highly erotic dreams about said roommate and Jim was up here - doing the exact same thing.

Shit, this was a mess. And damn, that Sam. Clearly and understandably infatuated with Blair.

Fuck, the things Jim Ellison could get himself into - and not - like his roommate. And what, Sam couldn't tell that Blair was straight? His gaydar off or something?

Jim rolled over, pounded his pillow fiercely and tried once again to sleep. But damn, visions of Blair, up here, in his bed. Tied. To. His.

Six in the morning. Shit, he needed to get up, get ready, class in two hours. Blair swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, scratched, yawned, then slipped out of his room and padded to the bathroom utilizing his best sentinel stealth mode. One shower and one quick breakfast and maybe he could face the day.

He was completely unaware of the man sleeping a few feet away. Or that his movements had awakened him.

Sam rolled over and nearly off the couch before catching himself. Something had disturbed his sleep. Footsteps, a door opening, a quickly extinguished light...Sam pulled himself up and peeked over the edge of the couch and gasped.

Blair - just out of the shower, the *geek* in only a towel, a *small* towel, wrapped around inviting hips. God, that hair, damp and trailing down his back...

Man, this was totally unfair. Morning erection and its unfailing compass-like ability to find exactly what it needed - and there, the geek.

This was more temptation than *any* red-blooded all American male could possibly ignore. And Sam Murphy was American, all male, very human and very agile. In a flash, he was bounding over the top of the couch before anyone could say, "Tie Blair up, tie Blair down."

The man in question jumped three feet into the air, but unfortunately for Sam, the towel remained steadfastly in place.

Blair blinked up at the man in front of him and then his eyes flew immediately to the stairs.

"Jim offered me the couch last night. Had a bit too much Tequila. Not that it *was* the Tequila, mind you, no it t'wer the limes."

Blair couldn't help it - he laughed. "I can sympathize," he was finally able to say. "With me, it's the salt."

Twin smiles and Sam found himself fixated on the most delectable pair of lips he'd ever seen on a man, Mick Jagger notwithstanding. He found himself wondering what that mouth would taste like and - feel like...he moved closer.

Blair wondered what the hell Sam was looking at - toothpaste on his chin? And why so - intense? He started to back up until he came up against the kitchen counter. Sam was only about two feet from Blair when he spoke again.

"So, how long have you two been roommates and partners?"

Suddenly conscious that he was only wearing a towel and that Sam was in Jockeys, small, tight fitting purple Jockeys, Blair mumbled, "Awhile."

"Awhile, eh?"

"Uh, huh," Blair was staring at Sam's mouth, "awhile." He watched Sam lick his bottom lip, like maybe Blair was an omelet with a rasher of bacon on the side?

Blair nodded again and Sam swooped down and brought his lips to Blair's and Blair couldn't believe it. This *guy* was kissing him and this guy was *Jim's* guy and while the kiss was nice because Blair *had* wondered what it would be like to kiss a guy because of course, he desperately wanted to kiss Jim, it *wasn't* Jim but it gave him a good idea of what he'd never have, but still - he didn't kiss back because this guy was not his guy, was not Jim.

Towel. He *had* to remove the towel because just feeling that hot ass under the thin, soft terrycloth --- he *had* to remove the towel. His right hand, with a surprising mind of its own, considering what his tongue was doing and how much pleasure it was experiencing, went for the towel.

But Blair's hand was there, gripping the terrycloth like there was no tomorrow...

The young Greek geek groaned and Sam's compass went *boing* but the damn towel stayed put.

Okay, Plan C - the other hand winding deeply in damp, silky curls, pulling back, tongue delving deeper still and yes, the Greek geek's hand was relaxing...

Blair was still enjoying the kiss, but still - it wasn't Jim. Never going to *be* Jim. But this man wanted him. He wasn't too short for *this* man, or too talkative, or too bouncy or too geekish for this man.

His fingers started to release their grip on the towel...but then his voice, stronger than Blair Junior who was deep into doing the Mowambe Tribe Ritual Fertility Happy Dance, yelled, "This is Jim's guy!

You're

Blair Junior went limp and Blair's left hand, which had been gripping Sam's right bicep, dropped to Sam's chest and gave a little shove while at the same time, he moaned *no* into Sam's mouth.

· but he *was* a boyscout. Hating himself, he pulled away from that mouth. And the movement was actually painful. He'd never enjoyed a kiss so much...

He looked down into dusky blue eyes, saw more than he wanted to see and reluctantly, stepped away. At that exact same moment...

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

Sam whirled to find a very angry Jim on the stairs, hands on hips, no, *fists* on hips, face purple with rage. Then Sam heard the anguished whisper of the young man behind him...

Chivalry was not dead. And Sam was one chivalrous guy. Especially since he could clearly spot the jealousy in Jim Ellison, a jealousy directed at *him*.

Jim Ellison was jealous of Sam. Not Blair, *Sam*. Which certainly explained what Sam had seen and heard in Blair's eyes and voice.

And damn, this was good news. After all, who wanted to think that one of Cascade's finest could be as stupid as Jim, up to now, had appeared?

Thank God for Thomas Alva Edison. Sam would have hated the idea of Jim Ellison spending eternity in the dark. But now that all lights were on, it was time to rescue the situation.

"Jim, it's not what you think. *I* kissed Blair. He didn't kiss me back and he didn't have a choice. He said no."

Jim's purple face darkened, then went splotchy and Sam was almost certain he could see steam swirling from Jim's ears. Sam quickly moved into the living room, to intercept, just in case, and naturally, Blair followed.

Jim stalked the rest of the way down, every muscle tense, teeth grinding, jaw clenching, and eyes twitching in tune with the vein at his temple.

Gosh, Jim really liked this whole primal thing. Made him feel really good. Not as good as punching out his ex-date for kissing his current, forever roommate and his future bedtoy, but good.

Blair, a little slow on the uptake, frowned. Why had Sam said all of that? And damn if Jim didn't look as though he were going to kill Sam.

Sam, not him. What the hell?

"Uh, Jim? Jim?"

Jim's eyes narrowed dangerously, then cleared. "Right, Chief. This is between him and me."

Sam stared open-mouthed. These two were so far out of bounds - it was illegal. And God, so in love.

Jim Ellison, Detective of the year? Rigged. Sam had always known the damn thing was rigged.

Blair needed to decide if he should be angry or not, after all, here he was, standing in the living room, wearing only a towel and Jim was claiming him.

*And* two alpha males were about to fight over him. Blair took a good look at his psyche and found it and his masculinity intact.

So, Jim loved him. Unless Jim meant the towel. After all, the towel was his and Sam had definitely been mounting a campaign to get it off.

And alpha males, his ass. Two pathetic beta males at the most. After all, *he* was the alpha male around here, albeit in disguise as a short, Jewish geek.

Blair pondered the question of what a beta male would do in such a situation, because after all, Sam was really a good guy. Deluded, but good.

The alpha male in disguise stepped in front of the endangered beta male masquerading as an alpha male.

"Now, Jim. Relax. Sam kissed me. I didn't kiss back but he didn't take either. When I finally said no, he backed off. That's when you came downstairs. See?"

"You said no and he stopped?"

"Yes, Jim. I said no and he stopped. Now why don't we all sit down and have some breakfast?"

· winked. Sam made the mistake of winking back. A mistake because of course, Jim caught it. And pounced.

Unfortunately, Blair was still between the two men and had turned back to Jim just as the man was doing his panther thingy.

Jim hit Blair, full body contact and both went down with a thud, Blair on the bottom, his head hitting the floor twice.

Blair was floating and it felt good. Soft and cushy. Kind of like what he'd always imagined Jim's bed would feel like. So instead of waking up right away - Sandburg pretended he *was* in Jim's bed, tied up, and Jim had this big feather...

"Blair? Sandburg? *Chief*? Can you hear me? Please, say something!"

The dream dissipated and he was left - on the couch. No silk ties, no feather. Fuck.

Blair blinked rapidly at the face swimming above him. "You did? And I missed it? Well, damn. I've been fantasizing about you pouncing on me, like, ever since Peru. Was it good? Did I like it?"

Crap, Blair had gone over the edge. All his fault too. Hospital. He needed to get Blair to a hospital.

"Jim, why do you always say *medics*? I mean, you're not in the military anymore, you know?"

"Better." He glanced down and found that he was still wearing the damn towel but an accessory had been added, namely a washcloth across his forehead. Looking back at Jim, he asked, "Where's Sam?"

"He voted for a safe retreat after I assured him that you were fine. And in case you missed it, the guy has a serious boner for you, Chief."

"Aw, sweet nothings. And from my cuddly little alpha male too. And isn't it lucky I have boners only for you?"

"You do?"

"Yep. Or have your sentinel abilities taken a hike?"

Jim glanced down and grinned. A tug at his shirt brought his attention back to Blair, who was talking.

Jim smiled and traced a finger down Blair's jaw. "Mind telling me when Mr. Straighter Than Arrow Sandburg decided he liked men?"

"Hey, my arrow has never been choosy." One of Jim's eyebrows rose so Blair hastily added, "Okay, my arrow never actually pointed to a guy before, so?" Then Blair waggled his eyebrows and added huskily, "Wanna play with my arrow and sheath?"

Jim groaned and shifted on the edge of the couch. This was too much, too soon and too fast. Hell, Blair had been straight an hour ago and everyone knew that Jim had never been very good at switching gears.

Blair could see the indecision in Jim's eyes and he was damn tired of word games. It was time for some tongue and cheek games. He reached up, fisted Jim's shirt and brought him down for a kiss. A hard, brutal, searing kiss.

The kiss escalated and moments later, both men ended on the floor with Blair perched on top of Jim, their tongues still swimming together, completely undisturbed by the sudden shift in locale.

Blair's tongue was doing such a fine job on Jim's teeth that he was already planning how to spend the money he'd save on dentists bills.

They finally parted and gasping for breath, Blair wheezed out, "Let's fuck, Jim."

What? Wait, he was just getting into this kissing thing with Blair and already the guy wanted to move to fucking?

Hell, he was adaptable, hadn't he been in the service? Change, adapt, stealth, explore, and covert entry.

On the other hand, this was Sandburg, not some military objective - exactly. Well, kind of, but he'd never *tell* Sandburg that, exactly. So fuck yes, but on the floor? No way. He dug his face into Blair's neck and mumbled against moist, warm skin, "upstairs."

Seconds later, he was up and pulling at Blair and they were moving, laughing, touching, climbing the stairs, stealing quick kisses on step three, step seven, step nine...

On step ten, after hot and hungry kiss, Jim went primal again and simply grabbed Blair's arm, bent slightly, his shoulder hitting Sandburg's chest and then straightened, Blair was now slung over his shoulder. Faster this way, much faster. He ran up the last half of the steps, Blair laughing and bouncing, his hands clutching Jim's ass.

Huffing and puffing, Jim dropped his prize onto the bed. Whew, Blair might be shorter but he was one heavy, muscular bedtoy, and no, Jim would *never* say *bedtoy* to Blair's face, although Jim would be more than happy to be Blair's bedtoy.

As he gazed down at Sandburg, Jim arched his eyebrows in an attempt to look lecherous. In reality, he was trying to buy time, catch his breath and catch his fill.

Blair lay where dropped, looking all the world like he'd already been debauched, sexy as hell and damn if he wasn't looking up at Jim like some kind of predatory animal...and there went that tongue, licking slowly over Blair's bottom lip...

Blair watched Jim watching him and his eyes gleamed wickedly as his grin widened. Without an ounce of self-consciousness, he spread his legs, reached out and snagged the waistband of Jim's boxers, then pulled.

"Blair, unless I'm very wrong, you've never been down this exact road before. You don't just jump into the car and go."

Blair gave another tug and Jim landed on him. Blair nibbled an earlobe while his right hand stroked the silky hardness of Jim's cock. Giving the reddened ear a quick lick, he whispered, "i do. i always just - go. who do you think you're talking to here, eh?" He gave impetus to his words by thrusting his hips up and wrapping his legs around Jim.

Blair took Jim's hand and brought it around and under him, to land on his ass. "I don't believe in playing fair, Jim. Now I *know* you have what we need nearby - Mr. Jim *Boyscout* Ellison, so grab it and get behind the freaking wheel, okay?"

Jim rose up, balancing his body on his elbows and frowned down at his partner. "How do you know you'll like this? Maybe you'd like to go first? I mean, what makes you think you want to be the bottom first time out?"

Blair lifted his head as his eyebrows shot to the ceiling. "You want me to analyze *now*? Get real, Jim. The whole who tops, who bottoms thing is ages old. You want me to figure out here and now why I want to bottom?"

Blair licked a path up Jim's cheek and ended with a kiss to both his eyes. "Maybe for some men, Jim, but not for me." He shrugged, smiled and gave Jim a quick kiss, then added, "Who knows, maybe I'm a natural."

Jim stared at Sandburg, at the flushed face and body, and he was acutely aware of the heat radiating from the younger man, the want and need being expressed in every way, consciously and unconsciously. But Jim was still worried.

Didn't need control with Blair? God, it was true, he never had. Blair was his safety net. But...this meant surrendering control to someone else and Jim had never surrendered to anyone in his life - except Blair.

Except Blair. So why should it be any different now?

Blair, recognizing the surrender, grinned and lifted himself higher to plant his lips over Jim's.

They kissed long, deep and urgently. As Jim reluctantly pulled away, he was already reaching out to the nightstand, for the condoms and a bottle of hand lotion, some natural aloe and vitamin E stuff that Blair had recommended, Truth be told, he wasn't quite as *supplied* as Blair had supposed. And he'd *never* been a boy scout.

As the items were dropped onto the pillow, he whispered, "love you, blair, love you."

Jim's hands ghosted across soft, downy haired arms, so unlike his own, then smoothed over Blair's chest, exhilarated by the hair he'd been dreaming about for years. Now he was free to rub, to enjoy, to lick at the nipples, watch the wet whorls of hair, watch as Blair arched back at his touch, eyes clenched shut...

His senses thrilled at the combination of silky and wiry mixed together and God, there was so much for a sentinel to enjoy, so much to experience..

Jim sucked in one rigid nipple and let his tongue tease and nip. Blair jerked up so hard that he nearly bucked Jim off, but Ellison held on and moved down, his tongue licking and tasting while occasionally peppering the heated skin with small kisses.

He tried to remember all that had happened his first time with a man, because that was his only frame of reference. Since *his* first time, he'd never been with a virgin, male or female. He knew he needed to relax Blair, excite him, but God, he didn't want to hurt him, or turn him off...

Of course, the man below him didn't seem tense and he certainly appeared excited and as for turned off? Blair Sandburg? Not in this lifetime. Hell, the man was already writhing under him, begging him with his eyes, his moans and his hands. Blair trusted him and Blair would take care of this, take care of *him*.

Jim scooted lower and took Blair's cock into his mouth. He sucked and allowed his teeth to gently graze the skin which caused Blair to buck hard. The younger man's hands gripped at Jim's short hair, at his ears and held tightly as his hips began a steady thrusting.

Jesus, Jim could *feel* Blair's moans through his dick, reverberating against the inside of his mouth, shooting all the way up to his brain.

Jim fondled Sandburg's balls, juggled them gently, squeezed a bit and deep throated Blair's dick at the same time.

Blair's yell shocked Jim as the sound jumped through the top of his head. Seconds later, Blair came in hot spurts and Jim had to work to keep up and swallow, but finally Blair's head lolled back as his body spasmed one final time.

Jim crawled up the lax body and noted with a satisfied smile that Blair's eyes were closed, his face and body covered with sweat. He noticed one trail of moisture as it traveled down from Blair's temple and he quickly and joyously lapped it up then kissed Blair again.

This time the kiss was gentle and loving as if two souls were being exchanged, vows given and mixing with their breaths. When the kiss ended, Jim urged Blair over on his stomach.

The relaxed body flopped over and grinning, Jim quickly prepared himself, then blanketed Blair with his body and nuzzled at Sandburg's neck, pushing sweat-dampened hair aside. Jim wasn't surprised that it only took a few minutes to bring Blair back to an edgy, writhing state.

He reached under Blair's body and stroked the hardening cock even as he kissed his way down Blair's back.

Jim lifted the younger man's hips and felt Blair's help as he prepared to enter him.

Everything seemed to come together then as he pushed and Blair responded and urged, as Jim's thumbs soothed circles over soft flesh and he was there, he was inside and they were moving and Jim surrounded Blair, buried himself in Blairhair, kissed and moved slowly, in and out, then picking up speed as Blair humped back over and over again...

Hips rising and falling, back jerking into Jim, meeting Jim's body with his own, forcing Jim as deeply inside as possible, the friction of their movement, of his cock against the bedding and Blair *had* to pick up the pace as he whispered, "let go, jim, let go...."

Jim lost himself in Blair, inside his mind, his body, his voice and Jim could hear blood rushing, felt Blair's heart beating, thundering inside his brain, lodging there for all time, keeping him alive, his life marching to that cadence and no other.

They pounded against each other, Blair's moans mixing with Jim's, but it had to end and never end.

Jim rested his head on Blair's chest, the hair caressing his cheek. He was wonderfully, gloriously spent. Blair's breathing had finally slowed as his arms wrapped around Jim.

They were both silent, Jim contemplating Sam's prolonged absence via a surprise cruise, Blair contemplating fantasies.

Jim found life returning to his old bones - and other parts. He jumped up and ran to his closet....