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applecameron) wrote2004-09-03 03:02 pm
applecameron) wrote2004-09-03 03:02 pm
(SV) The Sentinel: The Nose Knows (Jim/Blair/other)
by SV
Summary: Blair gets laid, has an epiphany.
Reprinted by permission.
There was an answering moan as Blair sucked at a nipple. He smiled. Breathed deep. Sadly, she didn't smell right. Not like Jim. He tugged harder, thinking while his hands roamed Nicole's body.
Nikki was a great woman. A fantastic lay. So why wasn't Blair groaning in delirium by this point?
He concentrated on the flesh under his hands, willing away the rest of the world. Nibbled away at her collarbone, enjoying the strange play of hard bone, soft skin, and strained exhalation in his ear.
Nicole was strong and fierce in bed, aware of her physical power, just like Jim. The comparison made his fading erection spring back to life, and Blair groaned in earnest. In realization.
Okay. If that's the game, play ball.
She smiled in bed and he moved up to cover her lips, enjoying the full taste of her. Wondering if he could get Jim to smile up at him like that, in _his_ bed.
She tasted like...winter in strange places. But Nikki wasn't from around here, that was okay. Blair couldn't help the comparisons. What would Jim taste like? Hot jungle summers? Wet and lush? While Nicole's mouth under him was all spruce trees and snow, like that extra padding on her frame designed to protect her from the cold. And Jim, conversely, was his streamlined cat, fired in the heat of Peru.
Back to that nipple. She smelled good, no doubt about it, eau de Nicole was a lovely scent, for all it's not-Jimness, and she was a lovely woman, energetic about her work, and the particular joint effort at hand. Blair wedged his thigh between her legs, slipping his arm under Nikki as she arched up in to him. It felt so good to make a lover buckle like that. He wanted to make Jim buckle like that.
A scientist, enamored of stars, yet equally interested in the entire world around her. His own work. Travel. Linguistics. Constitutional law. Ethics. Human sexuality. And currently putty, eyes mostly closed, giving herself up to enjoying precious afternoon lovemaking time with him.
They fit well together except for all the things she wasn't. Jim. Blair kissed his way down a torso that was too short, following a treasure trail of brunette fur down her abdomen, to a nest of dark hair. One arm still holding her from beneath. Keeping her pelvis still as he laved with his tongue. But it was a small button he caressed, and not the tip of Jim's erection, a little flap of flesh he suckled at, not a rigid shaft he might engulf. He made love to Nikki and to Jim at once, feeling himself excite at the noises he evoked with his tongue. Grinding himself against bed. Hearing Jim's voice, so much lower, in Nicole's moans.
"Oh, Blair." Oh, Jim. He worked more eagerly, feeling his Jim moving in Nicole's body, _his_ Jim shuddering with pleasure in that smaller frame. Loved Jim through her, closing his eyes, and reveling in her cries.
Blair groaned, gauging Nikki was so close to the edge, then pulled himself up and slid between her open legs, slid into the wet dark waiting for him. Smiled and kissed her, it would be hard to kiss Jim from this position, but they could try. Kissed her hard and long, felt her arms and legs wrap around him and pull him so deep, so deep he almost screamed Jim's name, her fingers digging tight into his buttocks, her orgasm wringing every question right out of him. Jim surrounding him on every side, transporting him with the clench of a muscle right over into ecstasy.
When it was good, it was so very good.
Much later, Blair slipped out of Nicole's apartment into the cool night air and headed for home.
They'd slept, cleaned up, snacked. Casually. Companionably. Babbled on about their respective projects. Didn't make any arrangements to see one another again, in this context. Nicole hugged him like a friend, not a lover, when Blair left, and he knew it would be okay.
Smart lady. Too smart, maybe? A little sad, but not really. No strings was real good, sometimes. No regrets. He wouldn't have to feel guilt the next time they met.
So, Blair half-bounded into the loft, grinned a little stupidly at Jim on the sofa, and made for the kitchen. "Hey, Jim, how's it going?" Took a deep breath of the smells of home.
"Hey," came the laconic reply. His Sentinel came into the kitchen, one disdainful sniff telling him everything. Well, maybe not everything. Maybe not that yes, he'd slept with Nicole, and no, he probably wouldn't again, because he'd rather go the unrequited route with Jim Ellison than romp with anyone else.
Then again, maybe the Sentinel nose knows.
Ellison weaved past him, brushing lightly, like he always did, helping Sandburg remove apples and cheese from the fridge. Grunted at Blair's fount of academo-babble about some (pre-Nicole) morning reading on the Masai. Moving gently against him to reach for the crackers. For a plate. Tapping him in passing. Touching him like he always did. For all the world, Blair reflected, like a cat whose human had finally come home, weaving back and forth around his ankles, redistributing his scent where it belonged. Marking his human. His Blair.
_His_ Jim.
Blair grinned and almost cut his thumb off along with a slice of apple.
Satisfied for now, foreign scents being slowly replaced, with time and touch and shared space, his Sentinel wandered back out to the TV, leaving room on the sofa for Blair. Outstretched paw curled around his human's shoulders as soon as Blair sat down with his plate. Drew them close. Snagged a chunk of cheese.
Sandburg nestled against his cushions, the sofa, Jim's arm. Inhaled deeply. Relaxed.
When it was good, it was so very good. When it was Jim, it was better.
Summary: Blair gets laid, has an epiphany.
Reprinted by permission.
There was an answering moan as Blair sucked at a nipple. He smiled. Breathed deep. Sadly, she didn't smell right. Not like Jim. He tugged harder, thinking while his hands roamed Nicole's body.
Nikki was a great woman. A fantastic lay. So why wasn't Blair groaning in delirium by this point?
He concentrated on the flesh under his hands, willing away the rest of the world. Nibbled away at her collarbone, enjoying the strange play of hard bone, soft skin, and strained exhalation in his ear.
Nicole was strong and fierce in bed, aware of her physical power, just like Jim. The comparison made his fading erection spring back to life, and Blair groaned in earnest. In realization.
Okay. If that's the game, play ball.
She smiled in bed and he moved up to cover her lips, enjoying the full taste of her. Wondering if he could get Jim to smile up at him like that, in _his_ bed.
She tasted like...winter in strange places. But Nikki wasn't from around here, that was okay. Blair couldn't help the comparisons. What would Jim taste like? Hot jungle summers? Wet and lush? While Nicole's mouth under him was all spruce trees and snow, like that extra padding on her frame designed to protect her from the cold. And Jim, conversely, was his streamlined cat, fired in the heat of Peru.
Back to that nipple. She smelled good, no doubt about it, eau de Nicole was a lovely scent, for all it's not-Jimness, and she was a lovely woman, energetic about her work, and the particular joint effort at hand. Blair wedged his thigh between her legs, slipping his arm under Nikki as she arched up in to him. It felt so good to make a lover buckle like that. He wanted to make Jim buckle like that.
A scientist, enamored of stars, yet equally interested in the entire world around her. His own work. Travel. Linguistics. Constitutional law. Ethics. Human sexuality. And currently putty, eyes mostly closed, giving herself up to enjoying precious afternoon lovemaking time with him.
They fit well together except for all the things she wasn't. Jim. Blair kissed his way down a torso that was too short, following a treasure trail of brunette fur down her abdomen, to a nest of dark hair. One arm still holding her from beneath. Keeping her pelvis still as he laved with his tongue. But it was a small button he caressed, and not the tip of Jim's erection, a little flap of flesh he suckled at, not a rigid shaft he might engulf. He made love to Nikki and to Jim at once, feeling himself excite at the noises he evoked with his tongue. Grinding himself against bed. Hearing Jim's voice, so much lower, in Nicole's moans.
"Oh, Blair." Oh, Jim. He worked more eagerly, feeling his Jim moving in Nicole's body, _his_ Jim shuddering with pleasure in that smaller frame. Loved Jim through her, closing his eyes, and reveling in her cries.
Blair groaned, gauging Nikki was so close to the edge, then pulled himself up and slid between her open legs, slid into the wet dark waiting for him. Smiled and kissed her, it would be hard to kiss Jim from this position, but they could try. Kissed her hard and long, felt her arms and legs wrap around him and pull him so deep, so deep he almost screamed Jim's name, her fingers digging tight into his buttocks, her orgasm wringing every question right out of him. Jim surrounding him on every side, transporting him with the clench of a muscle right over into ecstasy.
When it was good, it was so very good.
Much later, Blair slipped out of Nicole's apartment into the cool night air and headed for home.
They'd slept, cleaned up, snacked. Casually. Companionably. Babbled on about their respective projects. Didn't make any arrangements to see one another again, in this context. Nicole hugged him like a friend, not a lover, when Blair left, and he knew it would be okay.
Smart lady. Too smart, maybe? A little sad, but not really. No strings was real good, sometimes. No regrets. He wouldn't have to feel guilt the next time they met.
So, Blair half-bounded into the loft, grinned a little stupidly at Jim on the sofa, and made for the kitchen. "Hey, Jim, how's it going?" Took a deep breath of the smells of home.
"Hey," came the laconic reply. His Sentinel came into the kitchen, one disdainful sniff telling him everything. Well, maybe not everything. Maybe not that yes, he'd slept with Nicole, and no, he probably wouldn't again, because he'd rather go the unrequited route with Jim Ellison than romp with anyone else.
Then again, maybe the Sentinel nose knows.
Ellison weaved past him, brushing lightly, like he always did, helping Sandburg remove apples and cheese from the fridge. Grunted at Blair's fount of academo-babble about some (pre-Nicole) morning reading on the Masai. Moving gently against him to reach for the crackers. For a plate. Tapping him in passing. Touching him like he always did. For all the world, Blair reflected, like a cat whose human had finally come home, weaving back and forth around his ankles, redistributing his scent where it belonged. Marking his human. His Blair.
_His_ Jim.
Blair grinned and almost cut his thumb off along with a slice of apple.
Satisfied for now, foreign scents being slowly replaced, with time and touch and shared space, his Sentinel wandered back out to the TV, leaving room on the sofa for Blair. Outstretched paw curled around his human's shoulders as soon as Blair sat down with his plate. Drew them close. Snagged a chunk of cheese.
Sandburg nestled against his cushions, the sofa, Jim's arm. Inhaled deeply. Relaxed.
When it was good, it was so very good. When it was Jim, it was better.