FIRST STEPS

BY: Lyn

DISCLAIMER: The characters of The Sentinel are the property of Petfly and Paramount. This fanfic was written for my own and others' enjoyment. No money has been paid and no copyright infringement is intended.

RATING: N/C-17

PAIRING: J/B.

SUMMARY: The morning after - epilogue to "Communication Breakdown."

WARNING: M/M Sex.

Author's notes: Thank you to everyone who offered feedback for "Communication Breakdown." I was overwhelmed by the number of people who took the time to write and say how much they liked it. Several people asked for a 'morning after', so this is for you.

When dawn begins to lighten the loft two hours later, we're lying upstairs in my bed. Blair is spooned up against me, and my morning erection is nestled against the warmth of his ass.

I shift back a little and stroke my palm down his back, losing myself in the contrast of hard knobs of vertebrae and satiny skin overlaid with fine hair.

I haven't slept, and I don't think he has either, both of us content to drift, occasionally stealing a kiss or an exploratory touch. We haven't had that other talk yet. Maybe we don't need to. We both said what we needed to say. Except….

"Blair?"

"Mmm-hmm?" The sound huffs lazily from his lips.

"I don't know if I could…. I've never…. Have you ever…." I groan in frustration at my inability to say the words, and at the realization of the minefield we have yet to negotiate.

"Had a cock up my ass?" He flops over to his back, his eyes telegraphing an apology at his blunt choice of words. "No. Do I want to try it? Yes, but…" He presses a finger to my lips as I open my mouth to speak. "Jim, I love sex. I love the foreplay; I love coming, and cuddling up after. All of it. Don't confuse lust with love, though." He looks thoughtful, then pulls himself up and clambers over my legs, to kneel between my thighs, nudging them apart a little to make room.

"If you were in love with a woman, and she told you that giving head-jobs turned her off, but you really, really liked head-jobs, would you try to force her into it?"

I'm shocked by the question. "No! Of course not."

"This is no different just because we're both men. I'm not going to beg you to fuck me, if you don't want to do that. I'd like to try it, but if you don't think you can even entertain the idea of it, fine. There's lots of other things we can do to make love." He leans forward and plants a noisy kiss on my lips then settles back on his knees. "Like this." He rests one hand flat on my belly and slowly lowers his head.

I flinch at the first touch of warm wetness over my balls. I fist my hands in the sheets, lifting my hips involuntarily as the rough pad of his tongue swipes a broad, wet swathe over the wrinkled skin of my sac. My morning-after doubts scatter, my inhibitions evaporating as he sucks a testicle into his mouth and sucks on it for a long time, laving it with his tongue, then releases it to the cool air to bestow the same exquisite treatment to its twin. His hand is rubbing a gentle massage on my belly, snaking lower to scrape through my pubic hair and curl loosely around the base of my leaking, very erect cock.

His curly head appears from between my widespread thighs and he grins. "Like that, huh?" Before I can reply, he dives in again, this time swallowing my cock.

"Jesus, Sandburg!" I gasp and thrash on the bed as he massages the shaft with his mouth, sucking strongly. His tongue traces the underside, exploring its shape, then his teeth scrape softly along the length. He pulls back a little and my body follows him of its own volition, wanting to get deeper. He holds me back with one hand on my hip as he explores the head of my penis with his tongue and lips, his other hand pumping the shaft, gaining speed. Suddenly, he takes me in all the way and sucks -- hard.

My muscles clench and convulse spasmodically as I shoot down his throat. He swallows, chokes, and swallows again.

My body’s still shuddering when he releases my flaccid organ and crawls up my body, draping himself languidly over my chest. I don’t think I’ve come that quickly since Kate O’Malley let me touch her breast in the ninth grade.

"See?" he says drowsily, but with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "Lots of other things we can do." His hand pats my whiskered cheek affectionately. "Don't know that I want to do the swallowing again, though. Give me a little warning next time, huh? Ick."

Still trying to catch my breath, I roll a little to my side so that he slides off and lies beside me. I raise myself up and rest my head on one hand. "Ick? This from a man who drinks algae?"

He rolls away from me, scooting back until we're once more spooned together. "Yeah, well, to each his own."

FIN