There was something seriously wrong with Blair's memory. The last thing he remembered was being at the station. Some kid, a delivery boy, had brought in enough pizzas for all of Major Crimes, a token of appreciation from the Chief of Police for all their hard work.
About time, he thought.
There had been a twenty percent drop in violent crime in Cascade over the past two years, and much of the credit went directly to Jim, Simon and the other members of their department. He was really quite pleased to be counted among them, even if it was only in the capacity of police observer. Still, I've made my contribution, he thought, as he helped himself to a piece of pizza. I may as well share in the reward, he rationalized, grinning to himself, taking his plate over to Jim's desk to eat.
So how had he gone from working at the station to playing poker with the guys at the loft? And where had all those missing hours disappeared to? He couldn't remember anything after the pizza. He rubbed his hands over his face. I seriously need to start getting more sleep.
His head suddenly reeled, his vision darkened, and he thought he was going to pass out. How's he doing, Jim? He heard Simon's voice floating around him, fuzzy and disembodied. He shook his head, and then everything was perfectly normal again. All the guys were gathered around the table--Jim, Simon, Rafe, Brown, Taggert--just like any other poker night.
"Sandburg, I said are you in or are you out?" Simon repeated, sounding annoyed.
Blair quickly looked down at his cards. He couldn't remember being dealt a hand or what he was holding. "Um-- well--"
"You can forget the innocent virgin routine, Chief. Everybody here knows you're a card shark. There's nobody left in Major Crimes that you haven't already taken to the cleaners," Jim said.
He looked at his cards again. "Uh, yeah, I'm in," he said, tossing in the requisite chips.
Brown studied him closely. "Hairboy's trying to pull a fast one, I can tell. Probably got a hand full of aces. I fold."
Taggert shook his head. "Me too. I can't afford to keep financing Blair's higher education."
Blair grinned at them. "Ah, come on, guys. It's a good cause."
Brown and Taggert both rolled their eyes at him. Simon, Rafe and Jim stood their ground, and they all showed their cards. He laid down his royal flush and couldn't help gloating a little as he raked the chips over to his side of the table.
"I should have known he had something
up his sleeve," Rafe grumbled.
"Yeah, like extra cards. I'm beginning to think we ought to frisk the kid before we let him into our games," Simon said.
"Nah, that's not gonna work," Brown said. "Hairboy's learned too much from hanging around cops. Just patting him down's not gonna be any kind of guarantee that he's playing fair."
"He knows how to hide the evidence," Joel agreed.
"Not to mention that he's a born obfuscator," Simon said.
"Yeah, with a slick customer like Hairboy, I'm afraid the only way to make sure he's not ripping us off would be to strip search him," Brown said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"No hiding anything that way," Joel said.
"At least not any place where we wouldn't eventually find it," Rafe added.
"Assume the position, Sandburg," Simon barked, and then burst out laughing.
Blair blushed fiercely and tried to think up some joking comeback, but his mind went blank and his throat was suddenly very dry, making it hard to speak. Jim was the only one who didn't join in the teasing. He just sat back in his chair and scrutinized Blair, which didn't particularly help matters.
In fact, all the men around the table had their eyes on him. It was terribly unnerving, as if he'd never been looked at before. With their attention focused on him so intently, it made him feel like they could see right through him, like he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. His cock leaped to attention at the thought. Nothing had ever been more disconcerting.
Geesh, Sandburg, get a hold of yourself. These are the people--no, the men--you work with. This is Jim, your best friend, your Sentinel, your family.
Okay, so it wasn't as if he'd never looked in Jim's direction, never thought about it, never imagined it, hell, never jerked off to the idea. But it was not just Jim he was reacting to. It was Simon and Brown and Rafe and Taggert, for God's sake. He flushed and suddenly felt terribly self-conscious, mortified that they would figure out he was sporting a boner and that they were all collectively the cause of it.
"Hey, earth to Sandburg. You in or out, Hairboy?" Brown asked.
Jim grinned. "I think all this talk about strip searching has him afraid to play."
He sighed heavily in his partner's direction,
indicating that he did not find him the least bit funny. This
was especially true since he was so hard and aching it nearly
brought tears to his eyes. There was no way he could sit through
another hand. He frantically calculated how quickly he could make
it to the bathroom.
"Uh-- deal me out this round. I just have to-- I'll be back," he said and made a mad dash for the bathroom.
He shut and locked the door, turned on the faucet and splashed his face with cool water. He was shaking and perspiring, and he had no idea why. He didn't think the warm flush all over his skin and the sudden, throbbing pain in his temples had anything to do with the unexpected rush of lust that had overtaken him just a moment earlier. It felt more like he was getting sick, like he was coming down with the flu, or maybe had food poisoning. The guys always brought over all kinds of disgusting snacks when they came to play poker. Maybe it was the chicken wings. Or the potato salad.
The room started spinning, and suddenly everything was brilliant and golden colored and shimmering. He had a flash, a memory of himself standing on something, the hood of a car maybe, waving a gun, ranting on and on, something about golden fire people.
Hang in there, Chief, Jim's voice called to him through the golden haze.
The room righted itself, and he was once more in the bathroom. He could see Jim in the mirror, standing behind him, watching him.
"How did you get in here?" he asked, certain he'd locked the door.
"I was a little worried about you. You've been in here a while."
"I-- uh, well--"
"Is there a problem here, Chief? Something you'd like to share?" Jim asked, holding his gaze in the mirror.
"No, Jim. No problem. I'll-- uh, be right out. I just need a minute."
Jim grinned at him. "It looks like you need more than a minute there, Chief. Looks like you could use some help."
Blair jumped when he felt Jim's hands on his hips, kneading his muscles, before sliding around to the front of his jeans to gently cup his erection through the thick denim.
Blair gasped. "What-- what are you doing?" he asked.
He was trembling all over. It was partly out of fear, uncertain of Jim's reaction to his arousal. But it was also partly out of desire. He couldn't help hoping that Jim wouldn't pull his hands away any time soon.
Fortunately, Jim didn't seem either surprised or disgusted. Quite to the contrary, he began stroking Blair's dick through his pants. "I'm helping you out, Chief, just like I said," he explained.
"Ah. God. Jim."
Jim's breath felt hot and moist against his skin as he whispered into his ear, "You like this, don't you? You were already so hard, and now, you're getting even harder. You've been hard since the guys first started talking about searching you, haven't you?"
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice trembling.
Jim's mouth moved delicately along the line of his neck, not licking, not really kissing, just touching, lips against skin. Blair couldn't quite help himself. His head fell to the side to give Jim better access.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" Jim asked. "Did you think I could sit there beside you and not feel the heat coming off you, not see your dick stirring, straining the front of your pants, not smell you, the desire, the lust, just pouring off you?"
Blair closed his eyes, unable to meet his partner's hard, bright eyes in the glass. "I, uh-- I didn't think."
Jim laughed softly against his neck, the exhale of his breath tickling the sensitive skin there. "Oh, I bet you were thinking plenty, Chief. All kinds of nasty things. Who was it? Who were you fantasizing about? Was it me?"
Blair's breath caught in his throat, and he shook harder. The lazy play of Jim's warm hand on his cock made it difficult for him to concentrate and impossible to lie. He nodded, mutely.
"Mmm," Jim said, holding him tighter, stroking his cock with more pressure. With his other hand, he brushed Blair's hair back and kissed behind his ear.
"I'm sorry," Blair said, in a small voice. He was so excited that he was starting to get short of breath.
He could feel Jim's body shaking, and he quickly looked into the mirror. Jim was laughing.
"For what, Chief?" he asked. "For being a horny little bastard? That's not exactly news, you know. I've seen you looking at me. I've always known what you were thinking. But your reaction has never been quite as strong as it was tonight. Why is that?"
Blair colored deeply. "I,uh-- It was just--"
"Was it Simon, Chief? Were you thinking about him too, and that got you really hot and bothered? You like 'em big, don't you? You like the idea of big men touching you, doing things to you? Is that it? Is that what you made you this hard?"
Jim squeezed his dick.
"Or maybe it was Rafe. Huh? He's a good looking guy. I've seen you checking him whenever he's wearing one of those spiffy suits of his. Maybe you like 'em pretty, huh? You like the idea of a really pretty man taking you, fucking your sweet ass?"
Jim cupped his sensitive balls, and Blair couldn't help moaning.
"Or maybe it was H? Or Joel? Joel's always had a tender spot for you, which I'm sure you realize. Ever since you were so brave that first day at the station with Garrett Kincaid and his bunch of wackos. That would be nice, wouldn't it? Having someone who's sweet on you touching you in all your sensitive, private places. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Chief?"
Blair couldn't answer. He could only tremble as Jim unbuttoned his fly and eased his hand inside his pants, into his underwear. He jerked sharply in his Sentinel's arms when he felt the white hot electric jolt of contact, skin against skin, warm, callused fingers gently exploring his hot, swollen flesh.
"No, wait, I bet I know what got you so worked up. It was all of us, wasn't it? You started picturing us strip searching you, and suddenly you were imagining yourself at the center of a Major Crimes gang bang. I bet that's always been your fantasy, hasn't it? A bunch of guys circled around, staring down at you, while you lie on the floor with your legs spread, waiting for the next one to fuck you, not sure how many times you've already done it, no clue how many more times they'll take you, except that it's probably going to last all night, one right after the next. And you love it. Knowing that you're going to get fucked more times that you can count gives you one hell of a hard on, even though you've already come so many times it's hardly human, and you spread your legs a little wider, eager to have the next guy inside you. Is that it, Chief? Is that what you were thinking, what you were fantasizing about?"
Blair whimpered, his partner's words sending tremors through his body, a little terror, a little shame, and a ferocious bolt of lust. Jim sucked on his neck, hard, leaving a large mark that nobody could possibly miss, most certainly not a roomful of detectives.
Blair tried to think straight. "It's just that-- I haven't--" he stammered. "I haven't, Jim."
Jim pulled his attention away from the throbbing pulse at the base of Blair's throat that he'd been worrying with his tongue. He stared into the mirror, into Blair's eyes, wide and bright and a little glassy with arousal.
It's all right, Jim murmured. Everything's going to be all right.
Blair felt dizzy for a moment and closed his
eyes. When he opened them again, Jim had gone back to kissing
his neck and fondling his balls. Blair ached so badly. He wanted
so much, so many things that he didn't even understand. He craned
his neck around as far as he could to catch Jim's lips in a kiss.
"You'll take care of me, right, Jim?"
"Mmmm," Jim murmured against his skin. "Always."
How is he? Blair heard Simon's voice, and when he looked into the mirror, suddenly Simon was right there, standing behind Jim.
Jim didn't look up or stop what he was doing. He continued to massage Blair's cock and suck his earlobe. "He's getting hot and ready," he told Simon.
"It's about damned time. I've been looking forward to his initiation for months and months. When I get a pretty man in my department, I want to initiate him properly."
"What?" Blair asked, his voice high pitched, almost a squeak.
Jim pulled his mouth away from Blair's neck and his hands from Blair's genitals. Blair gasped softly at the loss of the pleasurable sensation.
"He's a civilian, sir," Jim said to Simon.
"Well, he's one of us now. It's about time he started playing by our rules. He needs to be broken in properly."
"What initiation?" Blair asked, increasingly agitated.
"I go first," Jim said.
"Who's in command here, Ellison? I've got seniority, and seniority means I get to go first."
Jim shook his head. "He's my partner, and I don't think this innocent virgin routine is an act. I don't want him hurt. His first time has to be gentle, with the person he trusts the most. I am right, aren't I, Chief? That's what you were trying to tell me a few minutes ago, wasn't it? That you've never been taken before."
Blair's heart thudded in his chest. "Why? What are you guys talking about? What do you mean initiation?"
Jim sighed and rubbed his hands up and down Blair's arms to comfort him. "It's just what we were talking about before, your fantasy. New guys who come into the department-- well, we need to know that we can trust them, that they trust us, that they're committed to our team. So we-- uh, initiate them."
"You mean, you--" Blair swallowed hard. "Like what you were saying to me before."
"Yeah, Chief, exactly like that. We've all gone through it. It's pretty much a time-honored police tradition, although one we keep under wraps for obvious reasons. We just never initiated you, since you were an observer, not an actual cop. But now-- well, you're one of us, with only this one exception."
"That I haven't been initiated?"
"Right. And tonight, you really seemed to want it, seemed to want all of us. So how about it? Are you ready to be part of the Major Crimes team once and for all?"
"We'll make it good for, Sandburg," Simon chimed in. "I promise."
Jim's arms closed around him, embracing him. "It's up to you, Chief. No pressure. I swear. No one really expects you to do this as an observer."
"I-- I want to," Blair said, tremulously.
"You're sure?" Jim asked.
"I want to be one of you."
Jim smiled at him in the mirror. "I want that, too."
"What do I do?" Blair asked.
"Simon, could you give us a minute?" Jim asked his superior officer. "Go tell the rest of the guys that Blair's ready to be initiated. We'll be out soon."
"Sure, Jim. But don't take all day. We've been waiting for this for two years already. We can't wait much longer."
Simon left, shutting the door behind him. Jim turned Blair around to face him.
"You're really sure, Blair?" Jim asked him.
"I said I was."
"I just need to make certain."
"I want this."
"Good. Me too. I've wanted you forever. I can't tell you how much. After the other guys all get their turn, I'll take you upstairs and hold you while we sleep. And from then on, it will only be the two of us, ever. Just us partners."
"Yes," Blair whispered.
Jim brushed the hair out of his eyes and smiled at him. "You should get undressed now."
Blair blushed hotly.
"Do you really want to strip in front of them?" Jim asked.
"Trust me. It will be easier just to go out there naked. It'll feel less like you're putting on a show."
"But that is what I'm doing, isn't it?"
Jim patted his cheek affectionately. "You better believe it, baby."
Blair colored again. "Well, I guess you're right then. I should--" he broke off, waving his hand to finish the sentence.
But somehow he couldn't make himself do it. He stood there half paralyzed, as if he'd forgotten the secret to removing his own clothing.
"Start with the shirt," Jim said, unbuttoning the top button for him.
"Uh, okay," Blair said, picking up where his partner left off.
He slowly eased each button open, conscious of Jim's eyes glued to him, taking in every inch of flesh as it was revealed.
When the shirt was completely open, Jim said, "That's good, buddy. Now slip it off."
He shrugged out of the flannel, and it floated to the floor.
"The shoes now," Jim prompted.
Blair shucked them off his feet.
And the socks."
He bent down to remove them.
"It's okay, Chief. You don't have to."
"No, no," he protested.
He finished unbuttoning his fly and eased the jeans over his hips, down his legs, standing first on one leg and then the other to tug them off. He straightened back up and stood there in front of his partner in just his underwear, trying not to think about how small the bathroom seemed with Jim's eyes raking feverishly over his body.
"Just one more thing, Chief."
He nodded, but stayed frozen, breathing raggedly. Finally, he hooked his thumbs in the cotton of his briefs and pushed them down, stepping out of them, kicking them away with his foot. He shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other, nude, trembling, watching his partner watching him.
Jim leaned in to kiss him, just a brief touching of lips, a light flickering of tongues. "Beautiful," he murmured into Blair's mouth.
But Jim didn't answer. He just stared at his body, rubbed his hand down his chest, tugged lightly at the silver ring threaded through his nipple. The sensation raced straight to his cock and threatened to blow out the circuitry.
"Ahhh! Geezus. Jim."
Jim smiled. "Sensitive there, huh, buddy?"
"Oh, God," Blair said, gulping air, his chest heaving.
"Pace yourself, Chief. It's gonna be a long evening, a lot more where that came from. You ready?"
Blair shivered. "I guess so."
Jim cupped his chin and kissed him. "Okay, let's go. You get initiated, and then we'll kick them all out and go upstairs together."
Blair nodded, unconsciously moving his hands to cover himself in preparation for leaving the refuge of the bathroom.
Jim shook his head. "They're not gonna let you get away with that, Chief. They're gonna want to see you, all of you."
"It's gonna be okay. I'm gonna look out for you like I said I would. All you have to do is let them take you, and then you'll be fully initiated. You'll be one of us."
Blair considered that for a moment and then nodded. "Okay, man. I'm ready. Let's go."
He supposed it must have been the nervousness, but his head started spinning. Once again, he was way too hot, and he felt sick to his stomach. He tried to reach for Jim, but his limbs felt so heavy. He couldn't move. His vision was blurred by the weird golden light. He could hear indistinct voices murmuring in the background, sounding concerned, although he couldn't make out anything specific they were saying.
Once more, the disorientation abruptly ended. He felt fine, if a little exposed, standing in his living room, completely naked, half hard, while all the men he worked with, still fully dressed, gathered around him, gawking at his body.
"Hairboy is definitely the right name for you," Brown said, staring at the deep mat of his body hair.
"You said it," Joel agreed.
"Nice," Rafe murmured. "Very nice."
"Turn around," Simon instructed.
He complied, doing a little twirl, as if he were up on a catwalk, modeling his own skin.
"I can't wait to get me a piece of that," Brown said, staring at his ass.
Blair blushed, but his cock got harder.
"Touch yourself," Jim said, gently.
'Uh-- okay," he said.
He put a hand on his dick and fingered his nipples, toying with the ring.
"Oh, God," he moaned, exponentially more sensitive to even the slightest touch now that he was the center of everyone's sensual attention.
"Does it feel good, Blair?" Joel asked.
He could only nod. His genitals were so heavy and full, and they burned his hand with their heat, the same way the sweltering glances from his co-workers singed his skin. Nothing had ever been better.
Then someone put some music on, and Simon commanded,
He'd always considered himself more a voyeur than an exhibitionist. He was a professional observer, after all. That was his nature. But the sinuous Latin rhythms coming from the CD player got inside him and unspooled his reserve. His hips started to undulate. Despite his self-consciousness, he found himself moving sensuously in time to the music, his bottom gyrating, his hard cock swaying gently out in front of his body. He ran his hands all over his chest and belly, moaning softly in the back of his throat. Then he clasped them behind his head and did a little shimmy, swinging his hips, shaking his ass, really starting to get into it.
"Work it, Chief."
"My, my, my."
The soft chorus of approval inspired him, and he rocked his hips harder, putting on more of a show, giving them what they wanted.
"Let's clear this shit off the table," Jim said, his voice strained and needy, a sensual growl.
The guys quickly moved everything into the kitchen, and Jim took Blair by the arm, pulled him close and kissed him deeply. Blair trembled.
"I'm going to open you up, and then I'm going to fuck you senseless." Jim's mouth rasped against his ear. He shook harder.
Is Hairboy gonna be all right?, he heard Brown asking, sounding worried.
The room tilted, and suddenly, he was on top of the table, face down, his knees spread and drawn up to his chest, his ass high in the air, head resting on his folded arms. Slick fingers probed gently between his cheeks while a hand caressed his hip in comforting circles. He didn't need to look back to know it was Jim.
"He's going to be fine, " Jim said, reaching deeper into his body, stroking him. "But he's a virgin, so he's going to need a lot of stretching. I don't want him hurt."
Jim twisted and scissored his fingers inside his body. Blair ached everywhere Jim touched him, but not from pain, from want.
"Could you move a little more to the side, Ellison? I can't see," Simon complained.
"I can see," Joel noted. "It's quite a nice view."
"Hairboy's got a fine ass," Brown
Blair knew he should probably feel humiliated, being splayed open like that, having them all watch as Jim practically turned him inside out. But instead of shame, he felt something that was much more like greed, wanting their attention, needing Jim's touch. His hips pushed back almost of their own volition, as he fucked himself on Jim's hand, desperate for more sensation. Then Jim found the hidden hot button deep inside him, and supercharged pleasure singed every nerve ending he had. His cock jerked and spat. An inferno blossomed in his belly.
"What the hell was that?" he gasped.
The guys all chuckled.
"Looks like Blair just got introduced to his prostate," Rafe said.
Jim's wickedly talented fingers lingered on that sweet spot and massaged his prostate until he was practically sobbing. He was so hard he hurt.
"Please," he begged.
"You heard the man, Ellison," Simon said. "He's ready. Go ahead and give it to him."
There was a muffled little popping sound when Jim pulled his fingers out. Blair groaned softly at the sudden, unwelcome sensation of emptiness.
"Turn over, baby," Jim urged him. "I want to see your face while I fuck you."
Blair quickly flipped over onto his back, and Jim pulled his legs up over his shoulders. "You ready?" he asked.
Blair nodded, and Jim entered him in one smooth motion. He gasped. His entire body burned and throbbed. An intense searing sensation shot up his ass, on the blurry border between pain and pleasure. Jim's cock felt huge inside him, and for a moment, he wasn't sure he could go through with it. But then he began to adjust and Jim began to move, very gently, very slowly. He caressed Blair's thighs and murmured vague little reassurances. The rest of the guys stared intently and rubbed themselves through their pants. And suddenly, Blair found he was enjoying himself much, much more than he'd thought he would.
Hey, Blair. How you doing? Rafe's voice, soft and kind, drifted through his head.
He blinked, dizzy for a moment, and then Rafe was sitting at the table, beside him, stroking his hair. "Is it good, Blair? Do you like it? Do you like having Jim fuck you?" he asked.
Blair's mouth trembled, and he couldn't form words. He had to settle for nodding his head.
"Yeah, it looks like you're loving it," Rafe said, laughing softly. He reached for Blair's hard, leaking cock and began to stroke him. Blair sucked in his breath through his teeth and Rafe laughed again, with good-humored appreciation. "You're one hot man, Blair."
Rafe pumped his cock harder, and Jim's thrusts picked up speed. The combined stimulation soon sent him over the edge, and he came strenuously, pulse after pulse, spilling over Rafe's hand. Jim groaned and climaxed inside him, his come filling him up. Blair lay panting, his muscles reduced to jelly. Jim gently pulled out of him and lowered his legs. He could feel the semen, cool now but still sticky, running down the backs of his thighs. It was one of the more surreal experiences of his life. Jim stumbled and sank onto a nearby chair.
"Good, huh?" Taggert asked, sounding envious.
"The best," Jim said, still out of breath.
Get some rest, Jim. I'll take a turn with him, he heard Simon say.
Blair's vision sparkled around the edges for a moment, and the next thing he knew, he was off the table, on his feet again. Simon's arms closed around him. The captain's big hands took his hips in their grip and pulled him to where the big man sat on one of the dining room chairs. Simon guided him into position, until he was straddling his lap, and then he eased inside his body and began to fuck him, in long, lazy strokes. The captain jerked his cock with one hand and tugged at the nipple ring with the other.
"Fuck!" Blair gasped.
"Exactly," Simon said, and Blair could feel the man's deep belly laugh vibrating against his back.
He leaned back against Simon's chest and let his head fall to one side. Simon kissed his neck, sucking and biting the tender flesh.
"Sweet," Simon murmured into his hair.
He rocked back against Simon's big cock, taking him deeper and deeper into his body. Simon splayed one arm across his chest, holding him firmly in place, and began to vigorously fist his cock. Blair whimpered, and the insides of his thighs started to tremble, his orgasm imminent. He could feel Simon swelling inside him, also on the verge of climax. His captain shouted and came, and the heated sensation of being filled sent Blair spiraling into completion as well, his semen spraying his chest and belly.
For a moment, his world went dark, his head
reeled, and his body felt weak and spent. There were dim, distant
voices, talking about him, wondering if he would be all right.
Then the voices started to clear. It was the guys clamoring insistently,
each one demanding his turn, wanting to go next. Strong hands
reached for him, pulled him up from Simon's lap. He acquiesced,
letting them guide him over to the sofa. One set of fingers toyed
with his nipples, another flirted with his cleft, a third gently
brushed his balls. Against all odds, his cock began to stir again.
"He just can't get enough," Rafe said, amazed.
"Hey, Ellison, how come you never told us your partner's completely insatiable?" Brown teased.
"I don't have a big mouth like some people, Brown. I know how to keep a good thing to myself," Jim said, smugly.
"Well, it's my good thing now, man," Brown said, staking his claim.
He bent Blair over the back of the sofa and urged his legs apart. Apparently, Henri liked it down and dirty, because he quickly pushed inside and set a driving rhythm, bracing Blair's hips with both his hands to steady him against the strenuous pounding. Fortunately, Jim and Simon had warmed him up enough to be able to take it. His swollen cock rubbed against the fabric of the sofa with each thrust, sending hot shivers of pleasure along every nerve.
"He's still going strong."
"Yeah, Sandburg's really taking it like a man."
"That's good, 'cause Henri's really dishing it out."
The other men continued to comment and call out encouragement until Henri's body went rigid, and he climaxed. His hips surged forward and pressed Blair hard into the sofa. That extra pressure on his cock was enough to finish him, and he came, a little weakly, since it was his third orgasm of the night. Henri collapsed on top of him and lay there until he finally softened enough to slip from his body. Then he stood up and relieved Blair of his weight. Blair continued to lie there, trying to get his breathing under control. He was unable stop the wild trembling that wracked every muscle in his body. He could feel exhaustion beginning to set in.
But there was only so long the guys were willing to let him rest. They got him back on his feet and guided him over to an area of empty floor space in the living room. Rafe took him in his arms and began kissing him. When the other guys had fucked him, they'd just opened their flies and taken out their cocks. But Rafe had undressed, and Blair groaned with excitement at the sensation of the man's naked skin pressed against his own. Rafe kissed him lazily, with lots of tongue. He cupped his ass and pulled him close. Blair hissed when their cocks collided, sparks of lust re-igniting his desire, causing his dick to take interest yet again.
They sank down to the floor and knelt there, kissing and stroking, for a good long while, until Rafe finally urged him onto his hands and knees. Rafe's fingers angled between his cheeks, teasing him, and then Blair felt the other man's cock pressed against his opening. He wiggled his hips, inviting him in, and Rafe penetrated him easily, beginning to move inside him, languidly, in no rush for it to be over.
A hand stroked the sweaty curls back from his face, and he opened his eyes to find Jim kneeling in front of him. His Sentinel was also naked, also hard. Jim leaned in and kissed him, caressed his face with light, shaking fingers, asking a question without words. Blair nodded eagerly, wanting it as much as Jim did. Jim presented his cock, and Blair tenderly nuzzled it. When Jim began whimpering with need, he took the erection into his mouth and started sucking.
No one would ever have convinced him that he could get so turned on from being used at both ends, having his face and his ass fucked at the same time. But he did get off on it. In fact, he loved it. Rafe filled him urgently between his cheeks, working that hot, sweet spot deep inside him, sending violent waves of pleasure shuddering through him. Jim held his head between both hands, thrusting greedily in and out of his mouth. His own cock rested against his belly, leaving a slick trail all over his skin.
A gentle hand stroked his side, traced his muscles. It was Joel, kneeling beside him.
"So strong," Joel said, appreciatively.
Joel's hand explored his back and shoulders, rubbed his chest, then finally wandered down to his stomach. The long fingers wrapped around his dick, and Joel began to pump him.
Ah. God! he moaned around Jim's cock.
His hips lurched forward, thrusting into Joel's hand, taking Jim deep into his throat. Then Rafe pulled him back, pounding into his ass, his cock stroking his prostate. That was their rhythm, the pattern of their pleasure, and they repeated it over and over again. Blair could see Brown and Simon both watching in fascination. Simon held his cock in his hand, masturbating with gusto. That was what finally did it. His cock spat and sputtered in Joel's hand, not enough semen left in him to ejaculate properly, but still, it felt good. The hot rush of Rafe's climax filled his ass not long afterward. Jim came in his mouth, screaming his name. He frantically tried to swallow all the semen, but some trickled between his lips and down his chin.
After that, the lights went out completely. He felt leaden, not just tired but weak, and cold all over. He figured he must have passed out, except that the shimmering light was back again, which he didn't understand at all.
He's really been through a lot, he heard Joel murmuring softly. But then there was nothing else, nothing but gold-rimmed darkness, for what felt like a very long time.
When he finally came to, it was quiet in the loft. Only Jim and Joel were there. He figured the other guys had gone home. Must have worn them out, he thought lazily, smiling with satisfaction. He lay with his head pillowed on Jim's thigh. Joel held his legs in his lap and absently stroked his hip.
"It's just you now, Joel," he said, languidly, tired from all the exertion. "Your turn, man."
"We don't have to, Blair. Not if you're too tired or too sore."
He yawned, unable to hold it back. "No, I want to. Really. I want to do this initiation thing right. Just take it easy on me, huh?"
Joel smiled at him. "I never planned it any other way."
Blair hooked one leg over the back of the sofa, exposing himself to Joel, who gently, slowly entered him. Jim carefully scooted out from under him, placing a pillow under his head, and sank down to the floor, kneeling by the side of the couch. While Joel thrust in and out of his ass, Jim touched him all over, exploring him with Sentinel senses, committing him to memory.
"You're so beautiful, Blair," Jim said, tenderly.
Blair's bottom lip trembled. Jim hardly ever called him by his first name, and never before with such sweet, throbbing sexiness.
Jim took Blair's limp, drained dick in his hand, very carefully, knowing that he was sensitive, even a little sore. Jim handled him gently, delicate fingers travelling all over his shaft, learning him. Finally, Jim leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cockhead. Blair whimpered. Jim took him into his mouth, not sucking, not licking, since he'd already had so much stimulation, just holding him in the warm, wet haven of his mouth. Joel was moving faster inside him now, getting close. Blair stroked along Jim's hairline, unable to look away from the truly dazzling sight of Jim mouthing his penis.
When Joel came inside him, Blair's body also convulsed. It wasn't really an orgasm, although it was pleasurable. He hadn't really been able to get hard again, not even with Jim's hot, sweet mouth on him. But some part of his libido was still raring to go, giving it his best effort, and his body climaxed as much as it could.
The doctor said he's going to be all right.
I know. I just wish he'd wake up.
But he couldn't. The darkness was swallowing him up. It had been such a long day, and he was so tired. He gave himself over to the darkness and sank into a deep, satisfied sleep.
When the morning light came into the room,
it woke Blair up. But when he opened his eyes and found the world
still shifting and shimmering, giving him a stabbing pain in his
temples, he immediately regretted regaining consciousness. Judging
from the thin, lumpy mattress beneath him, he knew he must be
in the hospital. Sadly, he had enough experience with hospital
beds to never mistake one for anything else. He frowned, trying
to remember how he'd ended up here. The meeting with the drug
manufacturers had been screwed up by the father of the girl who'd
jumped from the bridge. They'd been trying to figure out another
angle to pursue. The Chief had sent over pizzas to thank them
for all their hard work, which had been about time, in Blair's
But then, somehow, he also remembered being at the loft, playing poker. There had been some talk about his cheating, and then the guys had-- they'd--
He blinked, more confused than he'd ever been in his life.
Something moved beside him, and he turned. It was Jim, sitting in the chair by his bed.
"Hey, buddy, you awake?" Jim asked.
Jim smiled brightly. "That's good to hear, Chief. I was beginning to get a little worried here."
"How long have I been out?"
"About 36 hours."
"What do you remember?"
Blair colored brightly. "It's all kind of confused, you know?" he said.
And that really wasn't an obfuscation.
Jim nodded. "Yeah. The drug hit you pretty hard. They laced the pizza with enough golden to--" he broke off. "It's just a good thing you didn't eat any more of it than you did."
Blair frowned. "Drug? I was drugged?"
"Yeah, Chief. It really did a number on you. That golden is scary shit."
"Jim, did I do anything crazy? I have the vague impression that I did."
"Don't worry about that now. There's no harm done."
"I'm sure. I'd tell you if there was something you really needed to know."
Blair nodded. "Okay. I know you would." And then a flash of memory hit him. "Oh, wait. Oh, man. Shit, Jim! I can't believe I forgot. How's your vision? Can you see yet?"
"It's getting better all the time. Hopefully, in a few days, my eyes should be completely clear."
"That's good, Jim. I'm really glad to
hear it," he said, yawning, unable to help it, the heavy
feeling coming over him again. "Sorry."
"No problem, Chief. You should get some more rest. The drug's still working its way through your system. You'll need a couple of days to recuperate."
"I'm just so tired."
"Go to sleep, Blair. I'll be here when you wake up."
As Blair was drifting off, he remembered something that Jim had said about golden, that its hallucinogenic properties affected everyone differently. Pictures flashed back to him, from what he now realized had been a dream, images of being taken by Jim and the rest of the guys from Major Crimes. For a brief moment, his heart raced with panic, terrified that he'd spoken out loud in his sleep, that Jim knew about the twisted fantasies the drug had brought out in him. But the weight of his exhaustion could not be resisted, and the need for sleep soon swept away all other considerations.
Several days went by, and Blair kept an observant eye on Jim. He was still paranoid that somehow his partner knew what had been going on in his head while he'd been drugged up on the golden. It was bad enough that he'd nearly blown up the PD parking garage, not to mention that he could have shot Jim or any of the other cops who'd been there that day. Jim had assured him over and again that no one blamed him, that it wasn't his fault. But still, he couldn't help feeling bad. The last thing he wanted was something else to be humiliated about.
But Jim had given no indication that anything was amiss. When Blair was released from the hospital, Simon had brought them both home, since neither of them was really up to driving. They'd both been given a couple of days off to recover, and they'd settled into a comfortable routine of hanging out and watching TV. Blair was beginning to relax again, increasingly certain that his secret was safe.
On their last day at home together, Margaret called to say that she was stopping by, and Blair tried not to be annoyed by that. He'd finally decided that it was pointless to try to keep her and Jim apart, that his motive for doing so had never been especially honorable. He winced when he recalled that he'd even suggested that Margaret wasn't particularly attractive. She has an inner beauty. He snorted at himself. He was appalled by how pathetic he was, how low he'd stooped to try to eliminate the competition. So when Margaret had phoned that afternoon, he'd encouraged her to come over. He'd also made plans of his own so she and Jim could have some privacy.
"Uh, Chief," Jim said, from the couch where he was lounging. "I hear somebody coming up in the elevator."
"That would be Margaret," Blair told him.
Jim leaped up. "What is she doing here?"
"I realized it's crazy for me to try to keep you guys apart. So I'm giving you both my blessing."
"Well, it would have been nice if you'd let me in on it before inviting her over," Jim said
"What's the matter? Are you afraid her inner beauty isn't going to be enough for you?"
"No," he said, irritably. "Not that it really matters anyway, since I was planning to ask her if we could just be friends."
"What? Look, man, forget what I said about Margaret. I was just--"
"It's not what you said about her, Chief. It's what you said while you were tripping on the golden. That's what I found really interesting."
"What did-- what exactly did you hear?"
"Oh, my God. Did anybody else--"
"Only a Sentinel could have made it out. You don't have anything to worry about on that score."
"Well, thank God for that, at least. Listen, Jim--"
"You've got a lot of explaining to do."
"I know, but--"
"And we're gonna hash it all out when you get back from seeing your friend. I'm gonna set you straight on a few things. You seem to have some serious, not to mention kinky, misconceptions about the police force."
Blair turned scarlet. "Uh, Jim, man-- you know, the subconscious, you can't take anything it spews out literally. It's all symbolic."
"Mmm-hmmm. And what does your getting fucked by me and all the guys we work with symbolize?" Jim asked, skeptically.
Blair's face grew even hotter. "I didn't mean-- It wasn't like--"
"I'm glad to hear you say that. I'd be
seriously insulted if that's what you really thought of me."
He swallowed hard. "You would?"
"Yes, Chief, I would."
"I mean, what kind of monster do you think I am? I'd never want anybody's first time to be a gang bang, no matter how consensual it was supposed to be. I'd never let that happen to you. I certainly wouldn't take part in it."
He stared at Jim in confusion. "What?"
"Not to mention the fact that Simon, Rafe, Brown and Taggert can all damned well get their own. I do not share my partner, ever."
Margaret knocked at the door.
"We'd better get that, Chief. It isn't nice to keep a lady waiting, especially not when I'm trying to let her down easy."
"But Jim, I really need to know!"
"When you get back. I'll be waiting for you." Jim's voice was low and sultry, and Blair could only blink at him. Jim had never sounded like that before, had he?
Blair opened the door and stumbled past Margaret. He mumbled some greeting. The door closed behind him, but he could still vaguely make out their voices, the easy rise and fall of polite chitchat. He pushed the button for the elevator and waited, feeling a little dizzy. He couldn't make up his mind if what he thought just happened really had or if the drugs were still affecting him.
But he definitely looked forward to finding out.