Competing for Jim

Jim watched his room mate closely. Half-closed eyes hid dilated pupils and past a half open mouth Blair's tongue licked dry lips; once, twice and Jim waited for the third time. A groan shuddered through the younger man's body.

"Oh yeah. Just there."

The sounds of contentment seeped out of Blair. Jim thought he looked like a cat stretching in the sun. Blair's eyes focused and he stared hard at Jim, as though he were trying to see deep inside Jim's soul.

"Oh," Blair sub vocalized, with a tightening of his hips that forced the lower half of his back off the couch.

His outstretched hand grabbed at the seat of the sofa in a desperate effort to hold on.

"Oh God, that's good. Yes … oh!"

Blair's cries were halted by the shudder that rippled through his body and he was forced to fight for his next breath. Once more his wet tongue snaked out between swollen lips and the flush on his face spread to his neck and beyond. Jim thought his partner looked cute with pink ears. Pushing his bare feet flat on the floor, Blair forced his ass back all the way on to the couch.

"Oh … oh … God …yes … oh."

His hand slapped down hard and his body went rigid.

"Please, please," he managed to gasp.

Jim didn't need his senses to know Blair was reaching his climax, after all this wasn't the first time they had been through this, but he used them nonetheless, taking in every nuance of the display before him. Blair's temperature had risen several degrees, his heart was pounding and he was still struggling for breath. Shaking his head from side to side teased stray hairs from the leather tie at the nape of his neck and the debauched appearance was complete. Blair's movements became more frantic. Jim almost felt the other man's impending loss of control.

"Oh … yes … God … oh … oh!"

The climax was spectacular. The whole of Blair's body raised itself off the couch supported only by the top of the backs of his legs and the back of his head. The arc of his spine was almost painful to behold. Jim was frozen, awestruck at the sight laid out in front of him. The moment of ecstatic release was silent, an irony that was not lost on Jim, given the normal talkative nature of his partner.

###

As breathing returned to normal and Blair once again reclined fully into the couch, he opened his eyes searching for Jim's response with wild anticipation.

The loft was silent. Dusk had settled over the two men, the sun taking its cue from Blair and sliding away to rest for the night as he slipped from his euphoric high. Blair waited, wanting Jim to say something first. He was happy for the silence to surround them, marking the moment, filling the spaces between them comfortably. He knew Jim would speak eventually; it was just a case of whether he could be patient enough. Closing his eyes, Blair visualized the last few moments between them. Smiling to himself he glimpsed again at Jim, trying to judge what his reaction would be. There was a lot riding on this and Blair was anxious to know Jim's thoughts. As always, Jim was inscrutable. Even though Blair had trouble reading Jim on poker nights, here now in the intimacy of the moment between them, he was sure he knew in his heart of hearts what Jim was going to say next and his excitement bubbled.

"Well?" he blurted out.

Jim sat back. Blair could see the laughter behind his eyes. Jim knew exactly what this silence was doing to him and Blair smiled back, acknowledging the easy feeling between them. Standing, Jim walked slowly to the door. He switched on the lights. Blair blinked against the sudden brightness, anticipating the revelation.

"It was good, Chief."

"Good! You call that good?" Blair exclaimed, jumping up, all his good humor disappearing in the split second of illumination.

"What can I say, Sandburg. It was good."

Blair stood, deeply affronted by Jim's response. How could he possibly say it was good? That was like saying water was wet, the sun was bright, the speed of sound was fast and Bruce Springsteen was 'The Boss'. The word 'just' screamed to be added to the statement. Pulling his hair back into the constraints of the leather tie, Blair stomped to the kitchen, knowing full well that Jim was watching his every move. Noisily he made coffee, slamming cupboard doors closed and mugs onto the hard kitchen surface.

"Come on, Sandburg. Good isn't bad."

Jim tried to placate the man who shared his home.

Blair glared at him. There was an uneasy silence as Jim watched his partner work out his annoyance on a range of mugs, jars, spoons and other domestic items. Finally when the coffee was ready, Blair pointedly poured out his own drink and left Jim's mug empty. He sat at the table staring into the hot liquid in his mug, as it swirled effortlessly.

"Good," he muttered to himself. "How can you say that, Jim? I can't believe you would say that to me."

###

Blair was upset. More than Jim thought he would be. He had to put that right between them, but it wouldn't be easy. Rafe was a hard act to follow.

Leaving his empty mug, Jim sat opposite Blair. He reached his hand out towards his partner, but pulled back as he saw Blair tense.

"It was good, Sandburg," he started to explain.

It was the wrong thing to say. Blair sat back in his chair and pulled the mug of coffee closer to the edge of the table. An offended air settled around him, his own personal rain cloud.

Jim tried again. "Chief," he said firmly. "Blair," he said gently.

For a moment Jim thought Blair would look up, but the twitch of his mouth was prevented from becoming anything more by a real effort of will on Blair's part.

"I couldn't have tried any harder, Jim."

The words were heartfelt and Jim knew he was a heel for what he was about to say, but he had to be honest to Blair, above all he had to be that. Jim took a deep breath.

"Rafe was better."

Blair tore his hands away from his coffee mug and dropped them into his lap. He wouldn't look at Jim. Reaching across the table, Jim opened his hand in supplication.

"Please, Blair. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Blair sighed and finally looked at Jim. The briefest of grins pulled at one side of his mouth. He placed his hands on the table.

"I have to be better, Jim. I have to."

"Why, Blair? It was good." Jim stated sincerely and smiled.

Blair sat forward, moved the untouched mug of coffee to one side and leaned forward.

"It needs to better than good, Jim. I need to be better than 'good'. What am I going to do?"

Jim smiled. That Blair would go to such lengths for him was typical of the man he shared his home with. Blair made room in his life; juggled his time at the University, with time on his dissertation and working with him at Major Crime in a way that constantly amazed and delighted Jim. He decided then and there that the least he could do was to help Blair be as good as he felt the need to be.

"Maybe, you just need more practice, Chief."

Blair nodded. "Maybe."

He sounded unconvinced.

"Come on, Blair. Let's try again."

Jim stood and waited. Blair looked at him and nodded.

"Okay, let's do it." Blair smiled. "Again."

Twenty three hours later.

Jim had got to the break room early and posted himself by the coffee machine to grab the first mug from a fresh brew. The rich, dark liquid was almost too hot to drink and Jim held the mug tightly in his hands in anticipation of what was to come.

The two competitors arrived first followed by the remainder of the audience. Last to arrive was the judge.

Megan inched her way towards Jim and slipped in beside him with judicious use of sharp elbows and the occasional 'excuse me'.

"Who's she?" Megan whispered to Jim.

Alison Francks, works in Vice," Jim replied and nodded at his former colleague as she looked over towards him.

Jim leaned back, smiling. He knew he had been doing that a lot these last few hours, but he couldn't have stopped even if he wanted to. He could feel Megan staring at him, curious, and in an effort to hide his smile he blew on his coffee and sipped carefully.

"My money's on Sandy. Think he can do it?"

Jim coughed and felt himself blush.

"Coffee's too hot," he explained quickly, not convinced that the Australian detective believed him.

She eyed him darkly, but turned her attention to the competition which was about to start.

Blair looked over at Jim and gave him the briefest of smiles. Jim felt himself harden and casually adjusted his stance, hoping that no one else had noticed. As Blair readied himself for his performance, Jim watched with baited breath and his mind slipped back to the day before, to the moment his entire world changed.

###

They had gone back to the couch to do it again, as Jim had suggested. Blair had got comfortable and closed his eyes. Jim had leaned forward and then Blair had sighed.

"It's no good, Jim. I can't do it."

"Yes you can, Sandburg. You never give up on anything.

"I think I lost my mojo."

Jim laughed out loud. Blair looked tired and didn't laugh back. In that moment Jim's heart melted. For that second Blair looked completely open, undone and alone and Jim realized all he wanted to do was to make the man in front of him complete.

"Maybe I can help," he offered, meaning so much more.

Blair stared at him, understanding all that those few words implied.

"How can you help me?" he whispered

"Like this," Jim replied simply.

Jim slipped forward on to his knees in front of his partner and slowly unbuttoned the deep red shirt that he had always liked. There was a t-shirt underneath that was going to frustrate Jim's purpose if it wasn't removed. Blair sat up shrugging out of the red shirt while Jim pulled the t-shirt over his head. Kneeling up, Jim moved in closer and sniffed. Blair was silent, watching, intent.

Jim brushed his lips over Blair's clavicle and then licked the caressed spot. Blair hummed his response. Offering himself, Blair leaned his head to one side and waited. Jim accepted the gift and moved swiftly to plunder the side of his neck and the tantalizing lobe of the ear that was so close.

"Oh yeah. Just there," Blair murmured.

Jim obliged and nibbled harder, drawing blood to the surface.

"Oh …" Blair breathed out.

Keeping himself from squashing Blair, Jim allowed his arms to take his weight. He could feel the heat rising from Blair's body and there was a smell, something exotic and enticing that made his skin tingle. He wanted to taste that heat and that smell, he wanted to kiss. Blair's lips parted as if on cue and Jim was inside a wet, hot cavern of delights. His tongue explored every inch, reaching and licking, lapping and turning. When they parted, Jim sat back on his heels. Neither man spoke. He took off his own shirt and watched as Blair tracked his every move.

Jim's hands reached for the snap at the waistband of his jeans. He heard Blair take a deep breath.

"Oh God, that's good."

Jim paused with his fingertips on the zipper.

"Yes … " Blair encouraged.

The zipper slowly came down and in a single movement Jim pushed his jeans and boxers off his hips until his cock sprang free.

"Oh!" Blair huffed.

Jim moved back in to position over Blair's body.

"I want you, Blair."

"Oh …"

"I think I've wanted you for a long time."

"Oh …"

"Do you want me?"

"Oh … yes," Blair sighed.

"Touch me?"

Blair reached out tentatively. Jim felt the touch of his fingers like fire on ice. His cock swelled and Jim was an adolescent groper all over again, he knew another touch would make him come.

Pulling himself back, Jim struggled to hold onto Blair's wrists, to keep those magic fingers away from him.

"Please, please," Blair begged.

Jim breathed hard, kept control and placed Blair's hands firmly on the seat of the couch, his intention clear.

He pulled at the waistband of Blair's sweats and inched them down his hips using only his thumbs.

"Oh … " Blair groaned.

"Lift up for me, Blair," Jim told him.

As Blair's hips came off the couch Jim tugged swiftly. He was face to face with the object of his desire and he licked fiercely, unable to restrain himself.

"Oh!" Blair's breath caught in his throat.

And then his cock was caught in Jim's.

Part of Jim was worried that this was all too sudden, all too rushed, out of control, but Blair didn't seem to have any of those concerns.

"God … yes," he was demanding.

Jim sucked, taking it all in. He had never done this before. A few of his girlfriends had done it to him and he had read some stuff in Cosmo once about how to give good head. Just out of curiosity. But he was winging it here with this man, with Blair, though if his reaction was anything to go by his improvisational skills hadn't lost their touch.

"Oh!"

The climax took him by surprise and he had a mouthful of come before he could swallow. It tasted weird, but good and Jim licked the softening cock, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He smiled at the sated man beneath him who was grinning from ear to ear.

"Well?" Blair asked, moments later when he found the ability to speak had returned to him.

Jim pondered. "It was good," he said and laughed.

###

Cheering broke into his reverie. Megan was slapping Jim on the arm and whooping. Jim stared at her in bemusement. How long had he been daydreaming? His eyes flew to his lover's and he saw Blair standing, his face flushed, one arm raised above his head. Their eyes met and love flashed between them.

"I don't know what it is, Jimbo, but I'll have what he's having," Megan shouted above the celebrations. Jim choked and swallowed a mouthful of coffee as the announcement was made.

"The winner of the second annual "When Harry met Sally" award goes to …"

"Blair Sandburg!"

Cheers erupted again and Rafe shook hands, a gracious loser. Jim put down the mug and joined in the shouts and whistles. Blair made his way over past the back slaps and cat calls.

"Was it good or was it good?" He asked meaningfully.

"It was good, Sandburg," Jim replied as Megan hugged the winner.

He leaned forward and whispered in his lover's ear before Megan could drag Blair away to join Rhonda, who had also placed a small wager on the police observer winning the day.

"Fucking good!"

He saw Blair swallow hard and then beam at Jim before allowing himself to be led away.

As the break room slowly emptied, Jim breathed in the scent of his lover, still thick in the air and let it seep into his pores.

"Oh boy," he muttered to himself. "Life is good."

The End.