Head and Shoulders
Rating: R or NC-17, I'm never sure about the rating thing.
Barely awake and clad only in boxers, Blair shuffled into the bathroom.
A garbled "Good morning, babe," was tossed at him from under the water cascading over Jim's head and shoulders.
"Mornin'. Right," Blair tossed back as he completed his mission of finding the toilet.
"Don't you dare flush, Sandburg," Jim warned.
Blair's head lolled to the side, his eyelids drooped close and he listed a little to the right as he planted himself in front of the commode. He held his penis with one hand, taking care of business without missing his mark, and waved off Jim's admonishment with the other.
"You got it, big guy," he muttered. "Not gonna flush." Then he wobbled over to the bathtub.
He pulled back the shower curtain, leaned in, rinsed his hands, and then cupped them under the hot water, splashing his face several times. As he finished, Jim stepped closer, grabbed his chin and guided Blair's lips to his for a quick kiss.
"Wanna join me?" Jim gurgled invitingly from under the spray.
Blair's cock squirmed in response but he declined. "I'd love to Jim, but I'm running late."
"You sure?" Jim waggled his eyebrows and Blair chuckled.
"God, I love you Jim," he murmured, "But if I'm late for this class again, my ass is grass."
Jim stroked the ass in question and gave it a squeeze. Then he turned Blair and propelled him toward the sink with a playful swat.
Blair quickly shaved, tried and gave up on taming his curls, and started brushing his teeth when he became aware of Jim singing.
The melody was 'London Bridges', which in itself caused Blair to smile, but he couldn't make out the words. He bit down on the toothbrush, rested both hands on the sink's rim and cocked his head in order to puzzle out the words.
"Head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes, knees and toes," Jim warbled softly, over and over. "Head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes, knees and toes."
Blair shook his head and laughed, recognizing the silly bus ride-to-camp ditty. He turned to offer Jim a witty comment about the maturity level of a certain supposedly hard-ass cop.
At the sight that greeted him, Blair's mouth dropped open and his toothbrush tumbled to the floor leaving a trail of toothpaste foam and drool down his chin and over his chest.
The shower curtain was still drawn back, framing his lover within the shower area.
Jim was doubled over, knees bent, skin slick and dotted with droplets of water. He was scrubbing furiously at the buzzed hair atop his head with much more vigor than was necessary to wash the meager amount of fuzz.
'Damn,' Blair thought.
Jim chuckled and his body vibrated with mirth, his ass wiggling…taunting.
Blair swore again, this time aloud. His cock leapt out of his fly with a 'thwaaaaang' which Blair felt and goddammit, heard.
He stepped into the shower behind Jim and splayed himself across Jim's back, wet cotton plastering against Jim's thighs and buttocks.
"You are an effin' cocktease, Ellison," he growled lovingly as one hand slid into the cleft of Jim's cheeks, nudging them apart. "And you know what happens to a cocktease---dontcha?" Blair purred as his cock slid inside Jim.
The sudden, welcome, intrusion raised Jim to his tiptoes and he answered in unison with Blair, a satisfied smile on each man's face.
"He gets just what he's askin' for."
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