Notes: My thanks go to Persephone for a first line fraught with possibilities, to Starwatcher for a coming up with this great challenge (getting started is half the battle) and having the temerity to suggest that I might have more than 100 words in me, to Rae for the read-through, and finally, to my Dad, lately departed, who taught me where scratching feels good. To Devren, for the inspiration. It's you and me against the world, girl!
Fine list from Close to It by Persephone.
The craving always hits him when he least expects it. The sensory pull is strong and he struggles to resist. It steals his appetite and then his slumber, driving him from Blair's bed to pace in front of the balcony windows. When he can no longer hide the desperation in his eyes, Blair says, "Enough. Why do you let it get so bad, Jim? We need to take care of this."
He closes his eyes and nods and lets Blair lead him.
He sinks to his knees and breathes deeply, pulling scent into his nostrils. He lets his breath out with a sigh and inhales again, savoring hints of sunlight and cedar and shampoo. A small smile of delight plays around his lips. His eyes widen in appreciation. So beautiful. So fucking beautiful. He catches Blair's eyes through half-lowered lashes, blue longingly meeting blue.
Blair nods and he fills his hands with silkiness, stroking, petting. The tresses twine around his fingers as he lovingly traces the shape of the skull. Needing to be closer to that beloved scent, he buries his face in the curve of the neck and trails his fingers along the strong, straight spine. Again. Again.
He wants to laugh. Oh yeah, this is the best, this is what he's needed. His senses are dancing as he strokes through soft chest hair and spreads his fingers wide to caress the flat stomach where the hair is sparser. Small pants of pleasure are reaching his ears and he opens his hearing, noticing the elevated heart rate that his ministrations are causing. He thinks, "You just love this, don't you?", but says nothing, simply letting his senses tell him where his attentions are most appreciated.
When a wet, pink tongue finally slips through parted lips and strokes his mouth, once, twice, his laughter can no longer be contained, and he nuzzles the neck again. Delight is radiating from his chest and sparking along his nerves to his extremities, infusing him with a soul-deep happiness. He spares a thought to wonder why he fights this so hard. Thank God, Blair always knows what he needs.
The lights flicker. Blair clears his throat softly.
"Jim, they're closing, man," Blair says, and gently clasps his lover's shoulder. "We gotta go."
"I know, Chief," he sighs and, with a final scratch by the tail, unfolds himself from his knees. "But we'll have a dog someday, won't we?"
"We will," Blair promises and waits as he stuffs a handful of bills into the donation box of the Rainier County Humane Society. "Until then, we can visit as often as you want. Or need."
He smiles wistfully and slips an arm around Blair's shoulders, hugging tightly. As Blair's fingers splay across his back, they walk into the Cascade evening.
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