Nine-Tenths of the Law

by alyjude


"Mine? What's this.....*mine* shit?"

The words were breathed out in a moment of angry passion.

A head, which had been lavishing a great deal of attention on one, hard nipple that was beautifully attached to the male chest below, now raised up as blue eyes tried desperately to focus and a sex filled brain attempted a coherent answer.


The body below began to shift and lift up.

"Mine. You said, *Mine*."

The larger body pushed up groggily and slightly away, blinked twice and renewed the battle for coherency.

", er....uh?"

Sanity had returned to the body below and it struggled and finally pushed the larger body off.

"Jim, you - said - *mine*. What exactly did you mean?"

A heavy sigh made it's escape as Jim Ellison rolled onto his back. He'd *really* been enjoying that hard, pierced nub....He swiped one hand over his face then up and across his head, pushing sweat damped hair back while at the same time, trying to control his breathing *and* remember what he might have said in the throes of passion.

"Uh, I didn't....know, wasn't aware....I mean, shit, didn't know I said "anything", except maybe, "ummmm" and I might have thrown a few, "oohs" and "aahhs"......."

Blair Sandburg sat up against the railing and looked suspiciously down at his lover of 37 hours, 42 minutes and 13 seconds...(he *would* know the numbers)......

"You said it quite clearly. You said, *mine*. Now, were you talking about my left nipple specifically, or my chest in general, or.....were you, perhaps, referring to me?"

Uh, oh. I'm shit.

Ellison hauled himself up to join Sandburg against the railing, shoulder to shoulder with his bedmate, significant other, partner, soulmate, guide and all round great guy. He turned to gaze at the paragon of sexual pleasure and delight.

"Chief, I really don't remember *saying* anything. Honest."

I don't. Really

God Dammit, I don't

"I mean, we're talking 'in the moment', 'height of passion'....if you get my drift."

He *tried* to look pathetic, believable, lost puppy dog? Okay, *that* look was reserved for his "ever-loving".....or was that his "ex-everloving"? Fuck. It would have been nice to have made it to 40 hours.

Blair looked unbelievingly over at the "person" of his dreams (he couldn't really say "man" of his dreams as he'd never dreamed of a man, at least not until Jim Ellison).

"So you're saying that saying *mine* wasn't saying that I belong to you? You weren't saying I'm just a possession? Like, oh, say, your Jags cap?"

What did he just say?

"My Jags cap? I would die for you, Chief. I'd only get disabled for my Jags cap."

He flashed his best smile....The James Ellison, Sentinel of the Great City, Sex Machine, Have I Got A Gun for

And got a raised eyebrow and bubkis for his efforts.

"So I'm not yours?"

"Exactly how do you mean that?"

Okay, *that* was a mistake

"What do you mean, 'how do you mean that'?"

Ellison, cop, Sentinel, Ex-Ranger, found himself withering under the current steely-eyed look being directed toward him. A look *he'd* thought of as exclusively his.....

Puppy dog look = Blair

Steely-eyed look = Jim

It was Sentinel rule #103....he was almost positive.

Think fast or eat shit and sleep alone. Again.

"Well, I'm thinking....exclusive. You know? You for me, Me for you....."

"Tea for two?"

"Sandburg, you asked."

"So you weren't cataloging me?"

He put on his very best indignant expression.

"Sandburg, we're equals. Mano y Mano. Partners. You're not a possession.

And I'm very disappointed that you could think such a thing. Very disappointed."

Blair stared at him with squinted eyes for what seemed an eternity, Jim holding his breath *and* the highly indignant expression....

Finally, as if accepting Jim's explanation, the curly head nodded. But before Jim could resume what was fast becoming his favorite pastime....fucking the living daylights out of Blair Jacob Sandburg, said Sandburg bounded out of bed, dropped to his knees and began to rummage for something under the nightstand.

With some trepidation, Ellison leaned over the edge of the bed, trying to figure out what the hell his lovebug was up to......and almost forgot to wonder when he caught the view...but again, before he could do anything about his thoughts regarding said view, Sandburg popped up, stood, reached over, grabbed Jim and pulled....

"Come on, Jim, downstairs."

Jim resisted slightly, pulling back....bed, he wanted to stay in bed.

With Blair. In bed.

"Chief, couldn't we, uh, get back to what we were doing....before? Wouldn't you like that?"

His head, nodding up and down, big, hopeful smile......

"We are, we are, but *downstairs*....come on, trust me....", then his voice dipped down an octave, the sound pouring over the bigger man like so much honey....."you'll like it, I promise."

What's a Sentinel to do? He *poured* himself out of bed, knowing full well he'd follow Blair Sandburg anywhere.....

It wasn't until he was being led downstairs that he noticed the book in Blair's hand.

"Uh, Chief? The book?"

"Don't worry, just follow me...."

This was followed by a *very* nice wiggle....

Oh, yeah, I'd follow *that* anywhere, Chief.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Blair turned and placed both hands, book and all, on his Sentinel's arms and held him in place.

"Now you just wait here while I get everything ready. Don't move."

Why do I think I'm about to pay for that *mine* remark? Not that I said *mine*, cause I didn't, but if I did, well, I'm about to pay for it, big time.

But he did what Blair told him to do....didn't he always? And watched in

amazement as Blair went about getting *everything* ready.

First he walked over to the kitchen table, hit the lights and started flipping through the book until he reached what was obviously the desired page. He got a positively wicked look, peeked over the edge of the book at Jim, smiled impishly then placed the open book down on the table.

"Don't even try to use your sentinel sight on this book, James, you hear me?"



Blair went over to one of the drawers, got out several candles and matches and began to place the candles in strategic spots all over the loft, lighting them as he went.

He went back, took one of the kitchen chairs, dragged it across the floor to the other end of the livingroom, where he placed it with it's back against the wall. He then walked back over to the table, picked up the book, studied it a moment, closed it with a thud, looked up at Jim and pointed.

Jim looked at the chair, then at Blair. Blair nodded and continued to point. Jim went over to the chair.

"Sit down, James." He was using that "honey-coated" tone again. Jim sat. Fast.


Naked ass, cold, wooden chair

Blair turned off the loft lights, leaving it bathed in the warm glow of the candles and walked over to Jim, who gulped and started to sweat.

I'm 40. I've been around. But nothing could have prepared me for this. Nothing. God, he's beautiful. And mine.

Fuck. I did *not* say that

"Comfortable, James?"

He was standing over him now, close enough that Jim could have reached out and grabbed him, pulled into his arms.....



Slowly, Blair reached down and placed both hands on Jim's hips and pulled. Jim slid down in the chair. Then Blair climbed on top of him, his right heel bracing his body on the edge of the chair, his left hand braced against the wall.

From this position, Blair was actually above his sentinel. Jim leaned back, head almost touching the wall, and gazed up at his lover of now, 38 hours, 10 minutes and some odd seconds (he was too far gone to note the seconds).

Blair dropped his head, his mouth touching his sentinels ear....and whispered low and lovingly, "This is a lesson, James."

And Jim shivered, moaned and twitched. He couldn't remember ever being this hard. And Blair was right there with him.....

The sweat was trickling down the side of his face and he wondered when he'd forgotten how to breathe.....

Blair leaned in and placed his lips against Jim's, tongue sliding along the bigger man's lower lip, demanding entrance. Who was Jim to deny Blair? He hungrily opened his mouth and pulled the tongue in where it belonged and Blair proceeded to fuck Jim's mouth with all the energy he possessed.

Just when Jim thought he was in heaven, Blair lowered himself slowly and masterfully, onto Jim's cock.

He wanted to scream, to push, to pull, but Blair's body kept him still, a prisoner. He managed to bring one arm up through Blair's right leg and grasp onto a hip......

And then Blair began to move. Up. Down. Slowly. Up. Down. And the kiss deepened, Blair's tongue plunging in - out - in - out...and Jim could only sit there, wonderfully trapped, as Blair fucked himself and Jim's mouth.....

Then Blair began to move his body and his tongue faster, deeper and Jim's own hips began to push up and Blair's cock seemed to be fucking his navel...

Jim was so close, he could feel everything tighten, but Blair pulled his mouth away, and Jim groaned for it's absence and eyes connected and Blair, sweat streaming down his face, hair plastered to his head, smiled and whispered, "Who do you belong to, James Ellison?"

What could he say?


And the orgasm was ripped from him, as he bellowed Blair's name and heard his own name yelled back at him.

As Jim came back to the land of the living, Blair's body plastered to him, those wonderful lips brushed his ear and whispered, "Mine."

He could only nod.