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B.J Sandburg Part Thirty-Four.
Jim stumbled into the kitchen with his eyes closed, blessed Sentinel senses leading him right to the cup of steaming coffee on the counter. He zoomed in on the heat, carefully wrapping his hands around the mug and bringing the fragrant brew to his lips.
"Ah," he sighed as he swallowed the first sip. He opened his eyes slowly, wincing against the nuclear-bright sunlight beating against the windows. "What time is it?"
"Seven," Blair said shortly.
Jim turned to squint at him. The younger man was leaning against the counter, sporting a blue shadowed jaw with matching blue circles under his eyes.
"You look like I feel," Jim mumbled, diving back into his coffee cup.
"You know, sleep deprivation is a well known form of torture," Blair said gloomily.
Jim nodded. "And mind control," he added.
"A person just can't function on three hours sleep at a time," Blair continued seriously. "It disturbs the natural rhythms of sleep."
Jim jerked a thumb back to the bedroom. "Tell them that."
"I miss the hospital," Blair moaned. "Formula always made up, nice orderlies who whisked away the dirty diapers, and lovely nurses who gladly took turns feeding."
"And meals that showed up three times a day," Jim added wistfully. He placed a hand on his empty belly. "I could go for bacon and eggs right now. Toast, fried tomatoes and a huge glass of OJ."
Blair turned his mouth down, looking slightly green. "A breakfast like that could be considered attempted suicide, you know," he said thinly. "If you die of a heart attack at forty, don't come crying to me."
"I promise," Jim vowed solemnly, finishing his coffee and seriously considering another mug. He rubbed his face, pushing his bed hair down and scratching his scalp. "I need a shower," he yawned.
"You're telling me," Blair retorted. "I'm no Sentinel, but boy-howdy do you need a shower."
Jim surveyed his partner sourly. The young man was wearing boxer shorts he'd tugged on so hastily the front seam was twisted round to his right thigh. Long hair was pulled up into a hasty pony-tail, and stringy curls sprang out untidily. "Does the phrase 'people who live in glass houses' mean anything to you, Chief?"
Blair poked his tongue out. "It's too early for your banter," he said sternly. "And we don't have time for both of us to shower before the beasts stir."
Jim thought longingly of hot water pouring down all over him. He focused on the twins. Ammie, always the hungriest of the pair, was slowly waking up, still in the snorting and snuffling stage. Her sister was fast asleep, but would undoubtedly soon be stirring.
"Chief?" Jim ventured. "Do you think our shower stall is big enough for two?"
"I know it is," Blair replied instantly, then closed his mouth with an audible snap.
Waking up quickly now, Jim surveyed his guilty face suspiciously. "Do I want to hear this story?" he asked wryly.
"Um, it was a long time ago," Blair rushed out. He widened his eyes. "A long time ago," he repeated with emphasis. "Before us," he clarified.
Jim studied him for long moments. "That much I figured out," he allowed.
"I'm gonna shower," Blair said, pointing towards the bathroom. "In there. Feel free to join me."
As he dashed nervously away, Jim narrowed his eyes, thoughts whirling. Where the hell had that flash of pure jealousy come from? He'd always known about Blair's chequered past with women, he'd seen enough of it for himself, first hand.
Following slowly, Jim pushed the thoughts from his mind. He would worry about it when his brain was running at full speed.
Blair's boxers were hanging from the corner of the mirror where the young man had obviously flung them in his haste to get under the water. Steam was already fogging the room, and Blair's misty form could be seen through the frosted glass.
Jim dropped his shorts and slid the door open, and Blair flicked a wary glance at him. Jim summoned a reassuring smile.
"It's okay, Chief," he said, stepping under the spray. Blair was backed against the white tiles, but their bodies were still only inches apart in the close confines.
Blair studied him suspiciously as Jim picked up the soap and began to lather up, rotating his shoulders gratefully beneath the hot spray. "You looked mad," he accused.
"Did I?" Jim pondered. "Turn around," he ordered. "I'll wash your back."
Blair rotated, still looking at him over his shoulder.
"I'm not mad," Jim said honestly. "Just took me aback for a minute, that's all." He soaped up his wash cloth and began scrubbing Blair's broad back firmly.
Blair braced himself against the wall, grunting pleasurably as Jim soaped him up.
"Last time I was jealous of you was that guy you were gonna date," Jim mused, soaping down to firm buttocks. He faltered, and Blair threw him a quick grin over his shoulder.
"Reached your limit, Jim?" he teased.
Jim slapped the soapy cloth onto Blair's shoulder. "My turn," he said dryly, spinning and leaning against the wall.
"I seem to remember some jealous posturing every time I wore an outfit that didn't hang on me," Blair reminded him, getting to work with the cloth.
"My point is that I was jealous of men," Jim said, arching into the firm scrubbing motions. "Just took me by surprise for a minute, picturing you in here with a woman."
Blair washed down his back to the slope of his butt, then continued scrubbing, circling one cheek and then the other, before sliding the cloth down between the crack.
Jim jumped and spun, still feeling the firm press of Blair's washcloth covered finger on his intimate place. He found himself facing Blair, standing with the cloth dangling from one hand and a bemused smile on his face.
"Push a button did I, Jim?" he said knowingly.
"Just took me by surprise," Jim defended.
"I remember touching you there a few times," Blair said slyly.
Jim stepped under the shower spray, largely to hide the blush on his face. Even when Blair was still a woman Jim could admit he wasn't likely to enjoy talking about his butt in the cold light of day.
Blair muttered something with the word 'prude' in it, but Jim thought it politic to ignore it and finish showering. Blair rotated under the spray next to him, soaking his hair and turning his face up to let the water pelt down on his closed eyes.
Jim surreptitiously surveyed him, eyes running over the body he'd lain against last night, kissing and caressing. It was an odd feeling, to know someone so intimately, to love him inside and out, and still feel so absurdly uncomfortable in his presence at times like these.
And vulnerable, Jim admitted to himself. Blair's body brushed against his and Jim stepped closer, crowding Blair into the corner of the stall.
Blair blinked wet lashes, pushing his curls back onto his skull.
"Sorry about over reacting, Chief," Jim apologised, running a finger over some stray suds on Blair's cheek.
"Sorry if I took you by surprise, Jim," Blair returned. He lifted his hands and caught Jim by the hips. "But I ask you, who could resist this butt?" He slid his hands around, cupping Jim's firm cheeks.
Jim had to smile at the impudent eyes and hands, and he stepped closer still, pressing their bodies together. Warm wet skin met, rubbed, caressed.
"You like that?" Jim whispered, flexing his muscles.
Blair's eyes widened and he tightened his grasp. "You learn fast," he gasped.
"Still learning," Jim corrected him, enjoying the warm firm grip of strong hands on his butt. All along his front he could feel the friction of skin against skin, his own light hair against Blair's springy curls. And that place where their sexes met, touched, grazed and stroked.
"Damn," Blair murmured, rocking his body a little.
"I like this," Jim admitted, spreading his legs a little to form a cradle for Blair's growing hardness. His own cock was firming, aroused by the close contact, the warm steamy atmosphere, the intimacy of Blair's breath on his neck.
Blair squeezed his butt cheeks again, one finger sliding between the firm globes and sliding over the sensitive opening. This time Jim didn't jump in shock, instead he closed his eyes and tightened his grip on Blair's waist, shivering at the light touch.
Blair was nibbling on his neck now, and Jim slid his own hands down over the smooth skin of the younger man's hips, enjoying the texture of the paler skin, stroking around to the globes of Blair's ass.
"Yes," Blair hissed, rocking more firmly now, lips suckling at Jim's throat.
Muscles tensing Jim pushed his hard cock at Blair's, forcing himself to control his instinct to thrust mindlessly. The younger man was lost in the pleasure, but Jim had to be aware of the site of the caesarean incision, still healing in the crease below Blair's belly.
"Don't let me hurt you," Jim hissed in frustration. All he wanted now was completion, but caution was holding him back, and at the edge of his consciousness he could hear the babies awake and fussing.
Blair pushed him away and Jim closed his eyes in disappointment, feeling the sting of failure against his cheeks. And then Blair was reaching between them, wrapping his hands around both their cocks, pumping them both with firm assurance.
Jim arched into the touch with a shock of bliss, curses dying unborn on his tongue as he thrust, thrust, thrust into the tight hold, finally letting supreme pleasure overwhelm him.
Blair was panting, head thrown back against the wall, wet strands of hair clinging to the snowy tiles. His hands were slick with both their cum, and he gently eased a careful fist over their cocks, milking the last strands of pleasure from them.
Trembling, Jim laid his cheek on Blair's wet hair, shivering as the water turned cold around them.
"That was..." he slurred, unable to find the right words.
Blair hugged him tightly, rubbing his hands up and down the muscled back, letting the cooling water wash them clean. "We are definitely getting the hang of this," Blair agreed, smiling against the slick skin of Jim's shoulder.
Jim groped behind him and shut of the water. "And it's such fun learning," he noted, running a hand over his wet hair.
Blair slid the shower door open and stepped out, gratefully grabbing a towel and passing one back to Jim.
Jim dried his face and ran it over his shoulders, watching with real pleasure as Blair rubbed at his dripping curls and then wrapped the towel around his waist. Beads of water clung to the pale olive shoulders, running together and gathering in the springy curls on his chest.
"That was great," he said softly.
Blair picked up another towel and ran it over his arms and belly. "Yeah," he smiled shyly. "But I thought you were tired?"
Jim shrugged, noting the way Blair's eyes dropped to his shoulders. The open admiration in those stunning blue eyes warmed him, and he straightened his shoulders, sucking in his flat belly a little more. "I guess you inspire me," he said wryly.
********
Simon laid Ammie along his lap, her booty-clad feet kicking gently against his tummy. "Hello, Amelia," he crooned. She blinked up at him, then yawned widely. "Am I boring you?" he chuckled.
"If you're not full of milk with a teat attached, she's just not interested," Jim retorted. Jordan was against his shoulder, drooling onto a strategically placed towel. "But she's gonna need feeding again in a few minutes. If you want to become her best friend in the whole world, you're welcome to stay and help."
"Hanging around with you these days is more dangerous than ever," Simon accused. "Makes a man think maybe he's not too old to get hitched again and make a few more of these little beauties."
"You need a woman for that, Simon," Jim pointed out. He focused on Blair riding up from the basement in the elevator. "Or a reasonable facsimile there-of," he said fairly.
Simon chuckled and jiggled his legs. Ammie rode out the rocking with a few more myopic blinks, then she smacked her lips together and blew a bubble.
"Thar she goes," Jim grinned. "You could set your watch by that child's tummy."
"Amelia," Simon said again. "Ammie." He looked up at Jim. "Not Amy?"
"Ammie," Jim said firmly.
Simon considered the little round face, fuzz of red gold hair sticking straight up. "Suits her," her agreed. "How are you and Sandburg settling back in?"
"We got about four hours of sleep last night," Jim said thoughtfully. "We're running out of diapers and food, and these poor deprived children don't even have real cribs to sleep in."
"Criminal!" Simon exclaimed.
The front door opened and Blair came in with a basket of laundry. "Hi, Simon," he greeted cheerfully.
"You shouldn't be carrying that," Simon chided him. He turned to Jim. "What are you letting him do laundry for?"
Jim held out his hands defensively. "Hey, don't blame me."
"I can handle a few diapers, Simon," Blair interrupted. "I know my own body, I know what I'm capable of."
Jim shrugged. "He says he needs the exercise."
"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," Blair ordered. He sat on the arm of Jim's chair and peered into Jordan's face. "Hey gorgeous," he said gently.
"Hi, yourself," Jim teased.
Simon made a face. "Ick," he pronounced. "You two were bad enough as a man and a woman."
"Get used to it," Blair ordered. He reached into the laundry basket and began to fold snowy white diapers.
"Hey, Sandburg, you ever heard of disposable diapers?" Simon teased.
"Hey, Banks, you ever heard of pollution?" Blair shot back.
"Now, girls," Jim inserted. "Don't fight in front of the twins." Jordan screwed up her face unhappily, and Jim stood up, still bracing her against his shoulder. "Feeding time."
"You know," Simon said later as he fed Ammie. "I can sit with the twins if you two want to go out and shop."
Blair froze, one corner of the square cloth touching the other corner. He shot a look at Jim who was holding the bottle poised above Jordan's lips.
"Don't look so surprised," Simon said irritably. "They'll fall asleep right after eating, right? I think I'm capable of watching over two sleeping babies."
Jim popped the bottle in Jordan's mouth. "Never doubted it," he said mildly. "How about it, Chief? We could use some supplies."
Blair finished folding the laundry. "I could stand to get out into the fresh air for a while," he agreed. "Okay. Thanks, Simon."
"No problem," Simon said, gazing down into Ammie's flushed little face. Her eyes were squinched shut and her little hands were rhythmically opened and closing as she fed.
"I'll get dressed." Blair jumped to his feet and disappeared into his room.
"He looks well," Simon commented quietly.
"He is," Jim confirmed. "We both are."
"Your leave is all arranged." Simon nodded towards his briefcase. "The Chief said to take as much time as you need, full pay."
Jim looked down into Jordan's contented little face. "I feel like a fraud, Simon, but I'm gonna take him up on that offer. Blair and I need some more time to sort things out."
"That sounds ominous," Simon observed. "Anything I should know?"
Jim was silent for a few moments. "I'm thinking of a career change, Captain," he confided.
Simon sighed. "I wondered if you were."
Jim looked up at him in surprise. "You did?"
"I could see this last year that you'd lost some of your passion for the job," Simon said shrewdly. "I was hoping it was just down to your distraction over this whole B.J business. God knows no one could blame you for that."
Jim considered this. "I suppose I have been distracted," he admitted. "Once Drew came back into the picture Blair and the babies were all I could think of."
Simon nodded. "Understandable. But Drew's gone, Jim."
"There'll always be another Drew," Jim said soberly.
"That's true whether you're a cop or not," Simon returned. "At least as a cop you always have the protection of that brotherhood behind you."
Jim stroked Jordan's little tummy, running his hand underneath the fine fabric of her shirt and touching her soft skin. "I'd miss that," he admitted. "Not that I've ever been a team player." He rubbed Jordan's skin, feeling the connection between them. "But it's one of the things I appreciated in the army, being part of that family."
Blair came out of his room, pulling his polo shirt over his head.
"What are you thinking of doing?" Simon asked.
Jim shrugged. "Security work maybe. Consultancy. I've had a few offers over the years."
"Good money in security," Simon agreed with a nod.
"And reasonable hours," Jim said.
Simon laid his fingers in Ammie's hands, letting her gently grasp them. He looked thoughtful. "Have you thought about the Academy, Jim? Passing on some of the skills you've learnt over the years?"
Jim pondered the suggestion. "Me, teaching?" he said doubtfully. "That's more Blair's line." He nodded at the young man.
"It's not like you'd be doing anything too technical," Blair joked. "It's just cops."
Both Jim and Simon turned repressive glares on him. Blair rolled his eyes and shrugged.
"Sense of humour lessons might be nice," he muttered.
"Seriously, Jim," Simon continued. "It would mean a promotion to Captain. And regular hours."
"It might be something to think about," Blair said quietly.
"Yeah," Jim said thoughtfully. "Maybe it is."
"Why don't I finish feeding Jordan while you change," Blair offered. Jim handed her over.
"How do you feel about Jim changing jobs, Blair?" Simon asked as Jim jogged up the stairs.
Jim listened in as he changed, not even needing to focus his Sentinel senses. The loft wasn't built for private conversations.
"Worried," Blair said plainly. "I don't want him to look back and regret any decision he made because of us."
"People make sacrifices for their families," Simon said reasonably.
"Not all people are Sentinels," Blair returned. "Genetically designed to take care of their tribe."
"But he has a new tribe now," Simon said.
"That's what I said," Jim called down.
"Get changed," Blair called up at him.
"Nag nag nag," Jim complained. He pulled on his shoes, doing up the laces with jerky moves. Was Blair right? Would he one day regret giving up his career in the force?
"My advice is to think about it," Simon was saying as Jim came back downstairs. "Don't rush into anything."
"No one's rushing," Jim said firmly. He leaned over and stroked Ammie's golden red puff of hair. "Nearly done," he observed. "When they're finished we'll change them and leave them in your capable hands."
"I can change them too," Simon insisted.
"Have your rubber gloves and mask ready," Blair advised.
Simon laughed. "They only drink milk," he chuckled. "How bad could they be?"
Jim and Blair exchanged a laughing glance. "Famous last words," they said in unison.
********
"If cute had a rating," Blair said seriously. "This would be a 9.5 on the scale."
Jim fingered the soft amber ruffles of the swing crib. "It is pretty," he admitted.
"It's adorable," Blair said firmly. "And we could fit one on each side of the nursery."
"What do we do with the double bed?"
"Storage," Blair shrugged. He looked a little uncertain for a moment. "Unless you think we'll need it?"
Jim lifted his hand and stroked back a stray curl. "No," he said softly. "I really don't think we'll ever need it again."
Blair gazed at him, eyes softening. "Me either," he breathed.
Jim dropped his hands, regretting the fact that he couldn't lean over and kiss his young lover right on the lips.
Blair dropped him a wink and turned back to his minute examination of the crib, and Jim tilted his head, watching him.
His lover. Blair really was his lover now, in every way that counted. They still had hurdles to jump, problems to overcome, but they truly were by each other's side, no matter what occurred.
Something Simon said to him once came back to Jim's mind as Blair picked up a tiny quilt with a teddy bear print and cooed over it.
"You can't afford to wait for things to be just right, you know? Because there's always gonna be another problem cropping up, another bend in the road to negotiate."
I want to walk that road with you, Chief, Jim thought. He reached out and touched Blair's arm, wanting that contact with him now. Blair smiled at him, eyes curious.
"What?"
Jim smiled, stroking Blair's arm for a moment. "I'll tell you later," he promised.
The End
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