Who Believes in Fairytales

By Castalie


Story Notes: Set in my Night series, though this little part depicts the early days of their relationship.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to Audra Rose and Starwatcher for their precious help *g*

Inspired by this picture.


Jim Ellison didn't believe in fairy tales. He supposed he might have, once... but if that was the case, it might as well have been in another lifetime. He didn't believe in love at first sight either, or love being a bed of roses. Love was a battle, and you had to fight and fight again in order to keep things working. Not that it was a bad thing in itself. If there was one thing Jim was good at, it was fighting. When he wanted something, few obstacles could keep him at bay - which one Blair Sandburg was going to realize tonight.

The object of his attention was waiting for him around a corner, as the younger man always did. That in itself warmed Jim as few things did - the knowledge that each time he finished his shift, Blair would be waiting for him.

He pointedly ignored the other workmen around him; they simply ceased to exist for him the minute his shift ended. He purposely advanced toward Blair, who stepped back in the shadow a tad more, as if he wanted them to be hidden from view. Which suited Jim just fine.

He stopped in front of Blair and, after a few seconds of silence, advanced on him, making the other man move back until his back was against the wall. Blair started to smile and he licked his lips invitingly, but his eyes widened a fraction at Jim's next move. Instead of taking another step so that he was finally touching Blair, Jim kept still, never closing the gap between their bodies. Then, still without a word, he slowly reached for Blair's hands and placed them on either side of his lover's own head, squeezing them hard for a second as if to tell the younger man to keep them there. Blair narrowed his eyes at Jim for a second but chose to follow his companion's lead and didn't say anything; he kept his hands up but spread his arms slightly wider, showing Jim he was willing to obey, but that it was on his own terms.

Jim nodded and, his body never touching Blair's, bent his head to kiss his lover, licking the lips and demanding entry. Blair opened his mouth and surrendered to the kiss immediately, eyes closed and body already craving more. He let a moan escape and tried to thrust against Jim, but the kiss stopped when he did and the bigger man just straightened, staring at him.

"You asked me what was wrong with me - the other night. Remember?"

Blair nodded but didn't say anything. He felt an instant sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. This was it. Jim was going to end this... this nameless thing they had between them, that Blair couldn't even identify. It, no matter what it was, would be over in a matter of seconds, but he would be damned if he was going to help the son of bitch. If Jim wanted to destroy the best thing Blair had ever had in his whole fucking life, he was going to have to work for it, because Blair didn't have any intention of making it easier for him. He didn't care that neither of them had ever said anything about their... relationship, as fucked up as some people might think it was. He didn't give a damn that the 'L-word' had never touched their lips, because the 'L-word' didn't mean anything anyway. Or that's what he'd believed until now, at least. Blair didn't fucking care that Jim had never made any promises to him. All he knew was that suddenly he was afraid, and he didn't want to hear what Jim was going to say.

Reacting unconsciously, he closed himself off from Jim. Being afraid was a weakness, and he was anything but weak, so he would face Jim and he wouldn't break. It wouldn't be the first punch he had received, be it real or metaphorical. He knew he would go on, no matter what. Blair waited for Jim to say whatever the hell it was he wanted to say, his expression defiant, as well as resigned.

"Shit, Chief. This is exactly what's wrong!" And damned if Jim didn't sound angry now.

"What, Ellison?" Blair snapped. "I didn't say a fucking word, did I? I'm just being a good boy and waiting for the lecture." He suddenly realized that his hands were still raised up, but now it made him feel stupid, so he self-consciously started to lower them.

But Jim had his own hands firmly curled around his lover's wrists and held them in place before Blair could budge. "Don't move, Chief," he hissed.

Blair banged the back of his head against the wall and closed his eyes in frustration, but complied. Some battles were best abandoned. He knew he wouldn't win that one; no need to waste his energy for nothing.

"Fucking tell me what you want, Jim," he whispered. "And let's put the whole thing behind us, all right? No harm no foul." He wasn't pleading. He was not. He never pleaded anymore.

"Blair," Jim almost sighed. He made sure to keep the distance between them, even though he wanted nothing more than to embrace his lover at this point. But he didn't. Instead he kept still and slowly loosened his fingers around Blair's wrists, then gently ran his fingers from the wrist up to the palm, to finally caress the fingers in a soothing and sensual rhythm. He felt the body in front of him relax slightly.

"Listen, Chief, listen good." Jim's gaze roamed over Blair's body. "I see you." He nuzzled his lover's cheek and let his fingers tease the soft skin of Blair's palm and wrist again. "I touch you." He bent his head to the younger man's neck and inhaled softy, making the body so near his own shiver. "I smell you." He cocked his head to the side and made a show of focusing on something only he could hear. "I hear you too. But," he took a step back and broke all physical contact with Blair, "I can't reach you."

Blair had closed his eyes once more at the sensual touch of his lover, but now opened them slowly and swallowed, completely lost on the meaning hidden behind the little scene.

"Do you hear me, Chief? I do all those things, and I even fuck you - so deep it feels like I'm touching the real you - but it's a lie. I can't reach you. It's like you're hiding behind a fucking chain-link fence. You're there, you allow me close, but you don't let me in."

"That's rich coming from you, Jim." Blair had had enough of being good and listening without a word. "Pot? Meet kettle. I... don't put the blame on me, man. Don't you dare. This... this thing between us... I don't even know what it is, I don't know where we're going, or if we're even going anywhere at all. Don't fucking tell me it's my fault we seem to be stuck!"

"That's not what I'm doing, Chief! I'm just telling you I'm tired of feeling like... dammit!" Jim's jaw clenched dangerously. "Would the world come to an end if you stayed the night after we fucked?"

"Would the world come to an end if you actually asked?"

"What the hell do you think I'm doing, Sandburg?" Jim practically growled.

Blair almost smiled. Almost, because he didn't feel totally safe yet. "I mean before, you asshole. You told me you needed your space. That you felt the need to... to be on your own. To feel like things were kept under your control. You said those things, man."

Jim shook his head. "And of course you would zero in on those, wouldn't you? Yes, I fucking need my space, but did I ever make you feel unwelcome?"

"That's not what I'm saying either. Don't put words in my mouth."

"Pot meet kettle? Does it ring a bell?" Jim raised in a hand in surrender. "Look, what I mean is... my space." His look hardened for a second. "No actually, my space is my space. But I'd be willing to share. Just... don't expect the worst of me, all right? I don't give a shit if you do that with the rest of the world, but not with me. It pisses me off. Are we clear?"

Blair smiled softly. "Crystal."

"Well," Jim pushed his lover back against the wall and this time pressed his body hard against Blair's, blanketing him, "since we're on the same page, what do you say to invading my space tonight?"

Blair's answer was lost as Jim latched onto his lips. He captured the bottom lip and sucked on it before kissing him thoroughly, hands running along Blair's sides and coming to a rest on his thighs. To Jim, the moan that came deep from Blair's throat, and Blair's hands tightly gripping his shirt, were response enough. All of a sudden, he realized that maybe you didn't need to believe in fairy tales to start envisioning a happy ending...


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