Archive of Our Own ^beta

Author's homepage: http://www.fortunecity.com/lavendar/brett/283/index.html

Disclaimer: Not mine.  They're Rae's <bg>  aaah, Rae. Your slashy wish is my command.  Now, what is Jim using to spread that sunblock?  Dare I ask?  Can I join in yet??? <g>

Danny's dead. The words played over and over in his mind. Danny's dead, Danny's dead, Danny's dead.

Jim stood immobile after the service, eyes staring blankly ahead as his hands clenched on the pew in front. In his mind's eye, he could see himself, cradling the broken bloody, dying form of his friend.  The tune in his head changed, becoming a screaming crescendo through his brain. It'syourfaultIt'syourfaulIt'syourfaultIt'sYOURFAULT

"Jim?"

Dully his ears picked up the sounds of wood splintering under his grasp.

"Jim?" Sandburg circled his arm with his hand.  "Jim, man, come on, easy does it, come on, follow my voice, come on."

Jim turned his head mechanically. Blair was staring up at him with worried eyes. "Jim?"  The grad student looked own at the pew, eyes widening in shock. "Jim?!" Blair reached down and took hold of the Sentinel's hand, prising his fingers off the wood, one by one.  "Jesus, Ellison, you got one hell of a grip."  He grabbed Jim by the arm and led him into a nearby confessional, ignoring the puzzled looks from other mourners.  "Sit down."  Sandburg kneeled in front of Jim, hands gently rubbing the Sentinel's knees.  "Take a deep breath," he said, voice soothing, yet commanding.

Jim took in one gasping breath, then another.

"That's it," Blair encouraged. "Slow and easy."  Rising to his feet, he began rubbing the other man's shoulders. "You scared the hell outta me, man.  I thought you zoned right there in the middle of the service."

"Dead," Jim whispered, voice rough.

"Jim?" Blair knelt in front of him again.  "Jim, I know it's hard, but you have to relax.  If you're tense, this whole thing with your senses is gonna get worse." He smoothed his hands up and down Jim's thighs in a soothing pattern. "Focus on me, ok?  Focus on the pattern of my hands, focus on my voice.  Ignore everything else."  He ran his hands higher and lower, and Jim leaned into the touch.

"Blair," with one hand he reached out and raised the anthropologists head.

"Yeah?" those eyes looked up at him, wide, so innocent.

"Shut up."  Jim leaned forward and plundered the other man's mouth.  There was a brief moment of resistance, then Sandburg's nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath and returned the kiss.  Hard, rough, enough to leave bruises on them both, but needed.  Hard love, desperate love, wiping away the pain of death.

Finally they broke and Blair leaned forward to rest his forehead against Jim' s chest.  "Man, do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that?"

Jim planted another kiss on the riot of curls and brought his arms around the smaller man.  "Oh, yeah."

Blair looked up, eyes suddenly wary.  "What if this is another stress thing?  What if you wake up tomorrow and wish you never did this?"

Jim grinned wolfishly. "Then I guess we'd better make sure I never forget."

"Mmm-mm..."  Blair leaned back and started work on the fastenings of Jim's pants. Jim leaned back and lifted his hips slightly, allowing the anthropologist to tug down his pants, then his boxers.

"Oh man."  Blair rocked back on his heels and just appreciated the view.  "That is...whoa.  That is big."  He took a cautious taste, and Ellison felt the contact clear through to his spine.

"Blair...."

"Shh."  Blair licked his lips and took another taste, then another.  "Mmmm..."  he slowly worked his way around the head of the older man's shaft, while Jim mindlessly babbled encouragements and curled his hands through the long, soft hair.

When Sandburg's tongue flicked out to tease his balls, Jim nearly jerked off the chair.

"Oh my god..." He moaned, not caring who heard him.  I'm in church, he reminded himself.  I'm sitting here in a confessional, in a house of god while Sandburg -  The anthropologist leaned forwards and deep throated him.

"OH MY GOD!"  The scream echoed off the vestibules and stone virgins as his hips bucked wildly.  "OH MY -"

"- GOD!"  Jim sat up in bed, heart pounding.  Blindly he reached over to the other side of the bed, knowing before his hands made contact it was empty.  Senses on overdrive, he could feel his own semen cooling on his abdomen, smell the musk heavy in the air, feel the blood slowly pooling back from his groin.

What the hell? he slumped his head in his hands.  Danny Choi had died in his arms.  The man he considered another brother was cold and alone in a morgue and he was fantasising about Sandburg going down on him at his funeral??

Even at the thought of the name, Jim could feel himself getting hard again.

"God, STOP IT!" he screamed.

That was it.  No more.  Never again.  It had to stop here.

NOW.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

"Amen."

Jim stared blankly at the altar, ignoring the other mourners as they passed him by.

"Jim?" Sandburg circled his arm with his hand.  "Are you ok?"

Jim looked down and jerked away as if he had been burned.  "Don't touch me," he hissed, moving away from the anthropologist.  "I don't want you anywhere near me."  Turning, he stalked down the walkway without a backwards glance.

Blair looked at his own hand, then after the retreating Sentinel.  Closing his eyes, he let his shoulders slump.

Looked like he was walking home.

End Silent Seduction #3 - Killers.