I Know You

By Audra Rose


Note: Not my first TS story, but it is my first SenThurs post, so… mercy. *g*

Warnings: Slash. Angst. Not terribly explicit. Plot-free.

Summary: I'm always amazed at how these guys can have sex and a conversation at the same time.


He couldn't sleep. It was probably late, but time meant nothing. Time had stopped, reset and started again; leaving him surrounded by concerned strangers and unfamiliar walls.

Standing in the darkness, he listened to Blair tell him again that this was temporary, that the details would come back. Blair spoke as if he knew, and maybe he did, but through the fractured lens of all the things Jim couldn't remember only one thing was clear. He knew he would never have lived in a world where Blair was in his life but not in his bed.

So Jim listened to the voice and not the words, and when Blair reached out a hand in sympathy, Jim reached back to pull him in. He sank into the hard press of Blair's body, and the brief, hungry touch of his mouth before strong arms pushed him away.

"God, Jim, what are you doing?" Blair's voice was low and uneven. "We can't do this."

"Why not?" Jim asked, dragging him back, finding Blair's neck with his teeth.

"You don't remember," Blair said against Jim's cheek, holding himself still, but his lips brushed across Jim's face and his grip on Jim's shoulders was harsh.

Jim breathed him in. Blair in his arms was solid bone and taut muscle, whip-thin and hard. Jim could feel the tension of restraint in Blair's body, and it made him wonder what it would take to break it.

"I don't need to remember," Jim said. "I know."

"You don't know anything," Blair whispered.

"I know what I feel," Jim said, dragging their bodies together and rocking once, fiercely, against Blair's hips.

Blair's abrupt moan turned into a bitter laugh, but he was holding Jim now, moving against him. "You never felt this. You never wanted this."

"I don't believe you." Jim slid his hands beneath the warm cloth of Blair's shirt, finding ridges and angles with his fingertips. "I know your body," he insisted. "I know you."

Blair pulled back to look at him with a steady stare that held too many emotions to read.

Before Jim could beg, Blair was on him with rough hands, taking them both down to the floor. Jim heard fabric tear and buttons scatter before the world flared into heat and skin and hunger.

"You're never going to forgive me for this." Blair hissed the words into Jim's mouth.

Jim shook his head, denying it.

"You won't," Blair said. It was a promise, a regret. "I know you."


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