Rating: R for language
Notes: Took me longer than I thought. Thanks to Sunglow66 for the feedback.
"Once I had a secret looooove…" Jim was jerked awake from his doze on the sofa by the sound of his roommate singing in the elevator. He frowned, vowing to personally make Connor's life a living hell if he had to nurse a puking Sandburg through a hangover in the morning.
Hearing the elevator grind to a halt, he got up and stood by the door, waiting for the stumbling footsteps to stop outside before whipping it open, causing Blair and Megan to lurch through.
"Heeeeyyyy, Jiiiiiimmmm!" Blair managed to save himself by latching onto Jim, hands clutching at his t-shirt as he swayed unsteadily.
"You okay, Chief?" Jim's hands came up and gripped his shoulders, moving them away from the door so Megan could shut it.
"Ooooh, I'm fiiiinnnne." Blair leaned in and rested his cheek against Jim's chest, breath whooshing out as he snuggled close.
Jim backed up slowly towards the sofa and managed to lower Blair onto it, extricating himself from what seemed like four groping hands and settling his roommate under the afghan draped over the back.
"I'm a bit drunk, Jim." Carefully enunciated words indicated the level of inebriation and Jim shook his head, never having seen Blair like this.
"I can see that Chief, hang in there and I'll get you some aspirin."
"Don't want any." Blair flung back the rug and lurched to his feet, "need to take a leak." He hiccupped and pinballed his way to the bathroom.
Jim swung his attention to Connor, who was by the table, searching through her purse.
"How many has he had?"
"I stopped counting the bottles at six."
"Six? He never drinks more than three!"
"Hey, if you have to blame anyone, pick on Brown!"
"What the fuck's he got to do with this?"
"He was the one who suggested The Basement!" Megan emptied her purse out in frustration, scattering coins, bits of paper and dollar bills everywhere.
"The Basement? That's a…"
"Yeah, a gay club. Guess he thought it was funny, huh?"
"Christ, that was a real dive when I was in Vice." Megan could almost see the wheels turning in Jim's mind, "And you took Sandburg there?!"
"One, singular sensation.." Their argument paused as Blair's surprisingly pleasant singing floated out of the bathroom, followed by the door being flung open and him sashaying out, "Every little step he takes." Jim would have been impressed by the fancy dance steps if Blair hadn't tripped over his own feet and plunged nose first onto the hardwood floor. Luckily, Jim's quick reflexes stood him in good stead and he landed against a solid chest instead.
"Oooh, nice…" Blair smoothed a hand over one pectoral muscle and promptly started snoring, trusting Jim to hold him up.
"Start talking, Connor." Jim manhandled Blair across to the sofa and covered him up again, then went over to the table where Megan was sat, sorting out the dollar bills into neat piles.
"The Basement wasn't that bad, really." She started, "we didn't realise it was a gay club until Sandy had been goosed three times on the way to the bar."
"No, I have to go home to Jim now, Benedict." Blair mumbled into the cushion.
"They were really friendly and welcoming."
"I'll just bet they were." Jim muttered darkly.
"They had a great band, and it was nice not to get hit on for a change."
"What about Sandburg?"
"I said it was nice that I didn't get hit on. They were all over Sandy."
"And you just stood there and let them?"
"He's a big boy, and they were pretty good about taking no for an answer. They just wanted to dance with him."
"How did he take that?"
"It was like watching a master at work. Did you know there's a whole sub-culture to the gay scene? I certainly didn't, but Sandy's great for…"
"Yeah, yeah, I can do without the lecture, thanks." Jim didn't really want to hear how great Sandburg had been or what for; he'd rather find out for himself.
"One, thrilling combination…every move that he maaaakes." Blair was singing again in his sleep.
"So, about halfway through the evening, they have a cabaret act come on, and it's open mike for anyone who thinks they can sing. I thought women were bitchy, but you should have heard some of the comments…" Megan got fed up with Jim's inhospitality, and helped herself to a beer from the fridge.
"Make yourself at home, why don't you?" Jim groused.
"Thanks, I will. Anyway, where was I?"
"Right, so by now Sandy's had a few and this guy dares him to get up on the stage."
"Keep your shorts on, Ellison, it was the drag queen." Megan took a sip of beer and settled more comfortably on her chair, "He didn't take much persuading."
"One smile and suddenly nobody else will doooooo."
"I can imagine."
"He was fantastic, Jim. Knew all the words to 'Money' from Cabaret."
"He did?" Jim looked over to the sofa where Blair had briefly roused but was now snoring again.
"Uh huh. This is all his, by the way." Megan pushed a stack of bills towards Jim, who estimated the value to be at least three hundred dollars.
"He didn't even have to take his clothes off."
"Only kidding." Megan started laughing, "They wouldn't let him off the stage until he'd sung 'Hey Big Spender'.
"Would you like to have fun…fun…fun…" there was a thud as Blair rolled off the sofa. "Ow."
"Excuse me." Jim put his beer on the table and got up to extricate Blair from the tangled blanket. Megan watched with a smile on her face as Blair draped himself around Jim, his hands stroking over the broad shoulders and face snuggled into the crook of his neck.
"Is he always like this?"
"Like what?" Jim was trying to keep track of Blair's right hand that was slowly wandering down his back to his ass.
"All…snuggly." Megan waved her beer bottle around, "If he wasn't already taken I'd give you a run for your money, Jimbo."
"Pardon?" Jim finally managed to get hold of Blair's hand and return it to his waist. "We're not..you know."
"You're not? That does surprise me."
"Why? Sandburg's love life is a legend in its own lifetime. You obviously haven't noticed his wandering eye."
"I'd say it's his wandering hands you need to worry about." Megan snorted; Ellison was obviously living in Egypt if he thought Blair was completely straight.
"Fuck off, Connor."
"Okay, okay, I'm going. Just don't be too hard on him tomorrow. He's going to be feeling all that booze."
"His hangover is the last thing he'll be worrying about."
"You're my secret, Jim." Blair breathed against his neck and a shudder ran down Jim's spine. He cursed the fact that Connor was still there and that Blair wasn't in his right mind.
"Take care of him, Jim." Megan touched his shoulder, "I'll let myself out."
"Come on, Gene Kelly, let's get you to bed." Jim slung his arm around Blair's waist and helped him stagger to his room under the stairs.
"Donald O'Connor. Always thought he was the better dancer."
"Funnier too." Jim agreed and laid his friend on his bed. Blair snuggled down under the covers fully clothed and hummed the last few bars of 'Make them laugh' before snores took over.
Jim looked down at the lump under the covers and smiled. Tomorrow was going to be truly enlightening.
Blair lifted his head from the covers and was relieved to find himself in his own room. He couldn't remember a lot from the night before, but he was sure he'd made a total idiot of himself. The last time he'd had that many beers he'd ended up with short hair and a pierced nipple.
Groping under the covers, he found he was still fully dressed. Oookay, that meant he hadn't done anything stupid like try to hit on Jim. Or Megan. Oh god, he hoped he hadn't hit on them….
"Come on, Donald, coffee's on." Jim called from the kitchen.
"Expecting anyone else?"
"How did I get home?"
"You don't remember?"
"Uh…am I gonna get in trouble if I say no?"
"Then, no." Blair staggered into the kitchen after a visit to the bathroom and inhaled the coffee.
"Connor brought you home."
"Did I..um..do anything last night?"
"Like what?" Jim leant back against the counter and watched him squirm.
"Reveal the fact that you like musicals?"
"And that you prefer Donald to Gene."
"And that you have a thing for my chest." Jim stepped forward and pinned the sagging Blair against the island, "and that you have hands like an octopus, and you like to snuggle."
"That's okay, Chief, I have a thing for your chest too."
"Jim.." Blair's voice rose as Jim pressed closer.
"You want to know my secret, Blair?"
"That wasn't it?"
"Your chest? No. Not that it doesn't star in most of my fantasies about you.."
"You fantasise about me?" Blair interrupted.
"Don't interrupt; we're having a moment here."
"That'll be the day."
"So what's your secret? Apart from liking my chest." Blair rubbed said body part against Jim, memories of feeling hard muscle surfacing vaguely. He refreshed his memory by sliding his hand up under Jim's t-shirt.
"I like the fact that I'm your secret." Jim swallowed hard, "And sometimes I can be blind as a bat."
"Hey, no news there." Blair agreed with him.
"So," Jim lowered his head so he could look into the sleepy eyes of his love, "you want me to tell you what you did last night?"
"Is it embarrassing?"
"Only if Connor tells on you."
"Not yet you're not." Jim urged him towards the stairs.
"So, Ann Miller or Cyd Charisse?" Blair murmured much later.
"Gene Kelly or Donald O'Connor?"
"It's the white socks, isn't it?"
"Is no secret safe from you?"
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