Notes: First posting of a story. Haven't written Jim and Blair in several years. Not sure where this story is going - but here's what I have so far.
It was all a mistake. Something that never should have happened. That's what Jim had said. More than once. Loudly.
Blair knew it was all a fear based response. Of course, he did. The objective scientist would see it for what it was.
But that was just the thing. Blair was far from objective. He was so subjective he couldn't even call himself a scientist. Yet what could he call himself?
Opportunist. Well, yeah. He had taken the opportunity to live with Jim when the need arose. He took the opportunity to study him as his thesis prize. He'd crawled into Jim's bed in the wee hours of the morning, taking advantage of the good mood that came from celebrating the end of a hard won case.
He'd taken the opportunity to show Jim how he really felt with his lips and hands and tongue. Jim liked it. He moaned, groaned, begged and got everything he was begging for: the hugest climax of his life. Well, Blair just hypothesized that from the loudness of Jim's scream and the sheer amount of semen that was pumped all over him.
But, an hour later, Jim woke up, came back down to earth and that's when Blair found out in no uncertain terms that he'd made a huge mistake. Huge. Mistake.
Now he was loading the Volvo up with everything he could cram in it and heading off to a basement efficiency that he'd found that morning on a bulletin board in the Student Union. It was mildewy, sparsely furnished and as dreary as he felt. The place suited his current mood perfectly.
He'd left the key in the basket and took a box of 'weird food' from the cupboards and a couple of pot holders Naomi had brought back from Nepal. Along with his masks, his fetishes, other crap that meant nothing to him right now. Why did he feel like part of his life was ending instead of it beginning?
It all sucked. Appropriate that it should be raining he thought as he took one last look at the loft.
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