Lunch in the Sandburg Zone

by Ainm




A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble in which Jim watched what he couldn't have. But where's the fun in that, anyway, and I was having a shitty day... so instead I got the closest I've come to a PWP. And it's a first-time as well. OTT? Well, yeah, a bit. :-) I hope you like sour cream...


Blair is indulging himself with a bean taco with cheese and real sour cream, and I am indulging myself by watching him eat it.

He throws his vast energy at eating tacos just like he tackles everything: flat out, no holds barred. I love to watch his enthusiasm... love to watch him, period.

Especially when he's not watching me back. He closes his eyes, as if to concentrate more fully on his other senses. It's only a taco, but he's enjoying it, experiencing it, as if it were the finest gourmet meal.

I stare, entranced, as his tongue chases escaping bits of crunchy corn tortilla and shreds of lettuce around those incredible lips. I inhale deeply, using the aroma of his lunch to keep from zoning on the sight.

He lets out a hum of pleasure as he chews and swallows, and the sound raises the hairs on my forearms, I'm paying attention that closely. I watch his Adam's apple bob, and hope he keeps his eyes closed.

I can't count the number of times that I've wondered what he would be like in bed, turning that amazing energy to his partner's pleasure, and his own... and I add one more time to the list as I vicariously share the sensual delight he is getting from a stupid taco.

Sour cream mixes with pale green tomatillo salsa and runs down his fingers. He opens his eyes and tries to catch it before it drips onto his shirt, licking the trail of sauce from the base of his hand up toward the source. I try not to groan out loud as I imagine performing that service for him.

He bumps into the taco and draws back with a blob of white on his cheek. We both laugh, easing my tension just a bit, but I can't resist reaching out and scooping it off him myself. He turns his attention back to his food, and I give in and lick the sour cream from my finger, tasting the cool bite of it, overlaid with a hint of the salt of his skin.

He turns toward me and catches me with my finger still in my mouth, savoring this tiny taste of him. I try to hide my expression, but I'm not sure I'm fast enough because he turns his whole body toward mine. Suddenly I am the focus of that Sandburg energy and attention, and I try not to squirm.

Holding the last bit of taco in one hand, he asks me in a voice that is way too sexy for a picnic table outside a taco stand, "Are you sure you don't want a taste?"

Oh, god, yes...

"Nah, I'm good, Chief."

"I'm sure you are, Jim," he tells me in what certainly sounds like a suggestive way... I fight the urge to adjust myself in my khakis.

We just stare at each other for a long, quiet moment. This can't possibly be going where I want, can it? Now, after so long? Because of a look and a damned taco?

In a tone I hope never to hear him use on anyone else, he says, "Are you sure, Jim?" He draws one finger through the sour cream and salsa oozing from the side of the taco remains, and I draw in a loud breath.

Still holding that breath, I watch his finger close the gap between us -- and to my never-ending shock he smears it across my bottom lip.

"See, it's good," he nearly purrs, and I capture that finger with lips and teeth, and it's Blair and cream and tomatillos and more chile than I would want to actually eat, but hell, it's Blair.

We moan softly together as I draw his finger deeper into my mouth, exploring it with my tongue, pressing it up against my palate, then starting to suck firmly, helpless to do anything else. Now my eyes are closed, to better appreciate this unexpected gift.

They open to his voice telling me, "Hmm, you didn't have any tacos -- you must be hungry." I make an inarticulate "mmm" sound around his finger.

"I think we ought to get you home and find you something more substantial to eat," he tells me, and as I start to choke with the images that his words show me, he pulls his finger from my mouth, and pops the end of the taco into his own.

I have a feeling that Blair will be more than I had bargained for, but damn, what a delicious way to go.





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