Speak Up by Kerensa

Speak Up - Kerensa

Jim Ellison, ex-Ranger, detective to Cascade’s Major Crimes Unit and Sentinel crouched down behind the smelly dumpster and considered his options. They weren’t plentiful and were limited to hiding and asphyxiating on the stench, running and quite possibly getting shot, or hoping for the cavalry to come riding in. Since he lived in a large, sprawling city, Ellison wasn’t very sanguineous about a group of men on horseback coming to his rescue.

Although, I’d love to see the looks on these punks’ faces if that were to happen, Jim thought to himself, chuckling under his breath.

The people who would be surprised, and, incidentally, were the same yo-yo’s who had him holed up in this filthy, rat infested alley, were the Diamonds. The Diamonds were a new gang in town; one that needed to make a name for itself. They weren’t a large organization, as yet, having broken off from another, more prominent gang, known as the Turks.

The Diamonds consisted mostly of younger brothers and sisters (no discrimination in the gang ranks) of members of the Turks. These brain trusts decided that they were tougher than the Turks and needed to strike out on their own. However, they were too young, too inexperienced, and were about to go to jail, or the morgue.

They were a splinter group that should have been shattered months ago. Basically, they were young, stupid little punks who didn’t know enough to keep their heads down.

Hence, Jim trapped in an alley between two falling down warehouses. He’d gone in undercover as a drug buyer, which had gone as well as such situations usually did. Namely, Jim had been made as a cop almost immediately and the bullets had begun to fly.

Where the hell is my back up? he wondered for the 5th time.

He ducked as a bullet ricocheted off the dumpster and almost hit him in the shoulder. Ellison wedged himself in tighter between the metal container and the brick wall of the building behind him, hoping that the extra few inches would keep his ass from being riddled full of holes.

Blair is right, Jim thought with a sigh, remembering the scene in the warehouse just a few minutes earlier. I do scream cop.

Ellison had decided that it was his demeanor that ultimately gave him away, because the cover story had been impeccable. Supposedly being a drug courier who was double crossing his contact in Florida, Jim should have been the perfect cover for a group so desperate to prove themselves.

Should have been, Jim thought to himself.

Despite having a perfect in with the group, i.e., Freddie ‘Freebie’ Jensen, Jim’s cover hadn’t been in place long enough to be foolproof ‘Freebie’ was dead, lying halfway in and halfway out of the opening of the partially opened warehouse door. The young drug addict hadn’t been able to run fast enough and had taken three bullets in the back before Jim could protect him. So, he knew that Freddie hadn’t ratted him out, but who…

“Come on out, Ellison! You stinking pig!”

The detective recognized something about that voice. He dialed his sight up and used it to focus in on the reflection in a puddle of something that Jim would rather not contemplate. There, in the corner of one window, Jim saw the yeller. It was Tommy Corday.

Corday was Nick Corday’s little brother. Nick was the leader for yet another group, the Jacks. That gang was cleverly named Jacks because their main gig was carjacking. Jim had had the distinct pleasure of taking them down after they’d carjacked a woman with two kids; leaving the screaming mother standing in the road as they drove off with her twin boys in their car seats. The four-year-olds had been unceremoniously tossed out of the moving car shortly thereafter.

At least they didn’t suss out that I was a cop from some vibe that I give off,Jim thought with a shrug.

Jim could hear the gang members slowly moving closer. He couldn’t be too certain of their movements or whereabouts, because he was afraid to dial up his hearing too much on account of the sporadic gunfire.

“Man, something just doesn’t feel right about this,” Blair’s voice reminded Jim. Simon would be upset and blame himself for not listening to the grad student’s warning.

A pop bottle skittered along the concrete as someone knocked into it; that meant they were closer than he had thought. Feeling a little like Butch Cassidy—and look what happened to him— Ellison glanced at his gun, noted the almost empty clip, his last one, and prepared to go down fighting.

He knew that his lover, Blair, would be devastated.


“Jim Dandy to the rescue. Jim Dandy to the rescue.”

Jim tried not to smile as the lyrics to the song by Black Oak Arkansas ran through his head. The Calvary had arrived, with not a second to spare.

Two dozen SWAT team members, followed by several members of Major Crimes, and a whole heluva lot more uniformed cops had swarmed into the alleyway, right before the shooting could start. Well, before it could start up again, anyway.

Surrendering fairly quickly, and proving they weren’t as dumb as they looked, the Diamonds had been rounded up. The only casualty was ‘Freebie’.

Now, Jim had to finish up his report and he could go home. That was a lot harder than it sounded, because Ellison had been working on building his cover for several weeks. It was going to be tricky to explain how easily he had been made by the gang without sounding like an incompetent.

It’s so much easier when Blair’s here, Jim admitted to himself.

The teaching assistant was infinitely better at writing the reports than Jim was. The ex-Ranger’s method of reporting was short and to the point. “I went into the warehouse. I was recognized as being a cop. The gang was arrested. The end.”

Not exactly the sort of thing that the higher ups wanted to see. Blair would add details that would point out that no one on their team was at fault, not even the poor, dead snitch. Jim hated the higher ups.

“Ellison! Where’s that report?”

Sucking in a deep breath, Jim went to face the music, packaged in one grumpy captain.


Jim stood by the front door, gathering the energy to go inside. The Sentinel didn’t look forward to explaining the shootout in the alley to Blair. The younger man would be upset and in need of comfort. Normally, Ellison liked to take care of his Little Guppy, but tonight he just didn’t have it in him.

The door opened while Jim was still staring at it. Blair was framed in the doorway, his curly haired fluffed out in a halo around his head. The younger man contemplated the Sentinel thoughtfully for a few moments, before holding a hand out.

“Come on in, Big Guy,” Blair said, taking him by the hand and leading Ellison inside. Jim let himself be led, trusting his Guide, and for once not needing to be in charge. Blair slid the jacket off of Jim’s arms and tugged him over to the couch. “Have a seat, man. I’ll be back in a sec.”

Ellison sank down into the softness of the couch cushions with a sigh. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, grateful for the quiet sanctuary of his home. With Blair, his Guide, so close, the Sentinel could dial all of his senses down low enough that they wouldn’t bother him without worrying that they’d stay that way.

Ahhhh. It was quiet. No more cars honking two miles away. No more hearing the people in the surrounding buildings as they argued, kissed, fucked, farted and went about their daily lives.

The smells went away as well. Jim didn’t care what anybody else believed, the world stank. Flowers were lovely and all, unless you could smell thousands of them at a time; even the ones that were rotting. Stinky feet weren’t too bad until you multiplied them by about a quarter of a million people. You do the math.

Touch and sight weren’t too bad. Jim had a handle on those dials most of the time and could at least keep them to a tolerable level. But he was only able to accomplish that feat because of his secret weapon.

Jim opened one eye and glanced over at his jacket that was hanging on the hook by the front door. He knew that inside one of his pockets was a tiny scrap of flannel. He had rescued it from a shirt of Blair’s that had fallen apart and was currently living under the sink, where it doubled as his favorite dust rag.

The piece of material was inundated with Blairscent. Jim made sure that it stayed smelling like Blair, despite being handled by Ellison numerous times every day, by a simple expedient; he placed it under the edge of Blair’s pillow every night. He then retrieved it each morning and stuck it back in his pocket.

The grad student was none the wiser about Jim’s Back Up Guide as he liked to call the bit of Blair that he carried around. The Sentinel wasn’t sure what Blair would say if he ever found out. Probably nothing bad; it just wasn’t in the anthropologist to put somebody down, but he would give Jim strange looks and probably devise a bunch of tests to see how affective the substitute was.

Ellison shook his head. He didn’t want to analyze the situation to death. Having Blair around, in any version, helped him and that was that.

“Here you go.”

Jim opened his eyes and saw that his lover was holding out a bottle of beer for him to take. Ellison gave the younger man a tired, but appreciative smile.

“So, how did it go? Was the takedown successful?”

Ellison waggled one hand back and forth. “So-so,” he replied. Jim proceeded to regale his younger lover with the events of the afternoon. He kept a wary eye on the grad student, waiting to see what his reaction was going to be.

Blair’s only reaction was to stare at him, which wasn’t really a reaction at all, if you thought about it. Sandburg took a drink of his own beer before he said anything. Jim didn’t know if Blair was calming himself down or gearing up, or which would be worse.

“You’re not hurt…” Blair trailed off talking as he gave Ellison a sharp look. At Jim’s agreeing nod, Blair continued, “…that’s what matters most.”

The Guide sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything. This was exactly what the Sentinel had hoped to avoid; Blair feeling guilty for not being there at the bust this afternoon.

“Exactly.” Jim gave his head a sharp nod. “And we got a whole gang off the streets.”

“Cool.” Blair ran a hand over Jim’s leg, soothing them both. The grad student could see how much the day’s events had worn on the detective.

Jim leaned into the touch. He was happy to let Blair hover over him, even if it was discreetly. Before Blair, no one had ever really wanted to coddle Ellison before; not his parents, not even Carolyn.

Blair slid one strong, square hand behind Jim’s neck and tugged the Sentinel closer. Jim automatically felt himself resisting, even though he didn’t know why. He certainly didn’t want to oppose the forthcoming kiss, or the intimacy that would follow. So he didn’t.

Ellison stopped resisting and instead leaned into the kiss. Their lips touched very softly at first, like the petals of a rose whispering against one another. They hesitated for one moment in time and then surged against one another at the exact same instant.

The Sentinel could feel Blair’s breath on his cheek. The younger man’s heart was pounding where their chests met. It was like being in a Sentinel nirvana.

Jim pulled back and took a deep breath. Kissing Blair felt like he was touching a live wire—exhilarating, but dangerous at the same time.

Their mouths mashed back together when Blair took hold of Jim by the shoulders and pulled him close again. Not that Jim minded; his own hands were tugging on Blair’s waist.

“Upstairs,” Jim murmured against Blair’s lips. The younger man shivered at the sensation that Jim’s voice vibrating against his mouth created.

“Okay,” Blair whispered.

He pulled Jim’s mouth back and again checked the solidity of Jim’s teeth with his tongue. A few moments later the anthropologist pulled back; he knew that if they were going to make it upstairs, they had to go now. And for what Blair was hoping for tonight they would need a lot more space than the couch afforded them.


Blair stood by the bed for a short time, looking his fill. His lover, partner and lastly, Sentinel—although Jim would probably be surprised by the order of that list, expecting Sentinel to loom first—was draped in the middle of the bed. Jim’s nude body was so enticing. So mouthwatering! Blair just had to watch it for a few moments to get his body under control, or he would come all over Jim the second they touched.

Jim tried to stay casual, so it would appear that he was relaxed and not the bundle of nerves that he really was. The Sentinel challenged anyone—man, woman, transgender—to lay on the bed with an unclothed Blair standing over them and not be wound up.

“Over,” Blair instructed softly.

Jim knew what he meant and rolled over to lay on his stomach and turned his head so that he could see Blair if he chose to open his eyes. The bedside drawer squeaked a little as it was opened and the Sentinel reminded himself to rub a little soap on the runners on his next day off.

“Just relax, Big Guy.”

Strong, square hands touched his shoulders, startling him for a moment. He immediately relaxed though, when the oil covered hands began to rub circles on his skin. The heat from Blair’s hands warmed the oil. The faint odor from the lavender oil combined with Blair’s own natural scent and created a heavenly perfume that nature could not hope to duplicate.

The hands slid down his back and up again. Blair was straddling Jim’s thighs and the older man could feel Blair’s erection rub against the crease of his butt as the anthropologist undulated against him.

Above him, Blair smiled when he heard Jim groan. The younger man knew his lover. The day he’d had almost guaranteed that Jim’s body would be tied up in knots and his mind along with it. The Guide knew that his Sentinel would have looked at the death of his snitch as a failure, despite having done everything faultlessly. What Jim needed was to let go and Blair was the person to help him.

If there was one thing that Blair hated about his topping Jim was the position they had to stay in. Given his druthers, Sandburg would make love to the Sentinel face to face, but considering Jim’s size—quite a bit bigger than Blair—the smaller man had too much trouble trying to keep Jim’s legs over his shoulders and have sex at the same time.

Jim got too caught up in the pleasures of sex to lie on his back and hold onto his knees—they knew because they had tried that several times. Criminey, he couldn’t even do it doggie style because the stimulation became too much and he always collapsed partway through—and wasn’t that a mood killer.

Hearing Jim gasp as Blair snapped his hips forward, driving his rigid length deep inside of Jim’s body, made Sandburg growl under his breath. He wanted to see Jim’s face as he was blessed out, not just hear about it. Hell, at this rate he might as well…

Blair’s body stuttered to a stop for a moment as inspiration hit. He could tie Jim’s legs.

Jim whimpered and arched his butt back, silently begging Blair to continue. The image of Jim, his legs pulled back and secured to the bed frame in some way, or better yet, tied up in the air hit Blair with the intensity of a runaway train.

He slammed back into his lover, actually pushing Jim forward on the bed. Impatiently, Blair grabbed hold on Jim’s hips and pulled him back before surging in again. Jim clutched at the sheets on the bed, so obviously he liked the more aggressive Blair.

One of the reasons that Blair wanted to see Jim’s face was so that he could judge his reactions. When they had sex, whether it was Blair topping or Jim did, the detective was quiet in bed. He would moan and groan, very slightly, but he never encouraged with words. Blair never knew if Jim really liked something he was doing, or was just tolerating it until something he did like came around.

Blair felt the telltale tingle beginning deep inside. He pumped even harder, his body a blur.

“Jim. Jim. Jim.”

Blair wasn’t quiet in the bedroom. He wasn’t any other time, so he didn’t see any need to act differently there.

He arched his back and stilled for a moment as his balls began to draw up, wanting this moment to last. He cried out as his cock pulsated inside of Jim and Blair shuddered through his orgasm.

Sandburg collapsed slightly on Jim’s back as he tried to catch his breath. Beneath him, Ellison gave a little twitch as he pushed his hips back against Blair, subtly letting the anthropologist know that he hadn’t reached completion. Blair wished that he’d just say so, but Sandburg had discovered that during times like this Jim was quiet, almost tentative in bed.

Blair rolled to one side; his softening flesh slid out of Jim. The younger man tugged on Jim’s shoulder until the ex-Ranger was lying on his back. Evidence of his unfulfilled passion was waving in the air. Blair grasped hold of Jim with a firm grip, just like the Sentinel preferred, but didn’t move his hand.

“You have to say it, Jim,” he reminded the man on the bed.

Jim’s mouth thinned to a narrow line and stayed stubbornly shut. Blair’s thumb slid up and lightly, oh so lightly, circled around the head of Jim’s penis. Ellison’s eyes closed as he arched his lower body up, trying to get Blair to pump. Instead, the younger man loosened his grip even further so it was only the slightest of touches that the Sentinel felt.

Ellison’s eyes flew open. He glared at Blair, who stared back at him and waited. Jim, never the most patient of men, waited all of 30 seconds before he growled. Blair was used to his tactics and gave the older man a saucy smile.


“What? Tell me what you want, Jim,” Blair encouraged.

“Touch me.” Blair looked down at his hand purposefully. Jim glared. “Harder. Harder.” Blair’s grip tightened with each utterance. “Oh god, harder!” Ellison gasped as Blair squeezed him in a tight fist; the detective wasn’t sure if the feeling was good or bad, too much or not enough. “Chief!”

Blair smiled, glad that he had evoked a response. Not letting his grip slack one iota, the Guide began to pump. Just like with the hold he had, his movements were not gentle, in fact, they were just this side of brutal. He kept a close eye on his Sentinel’s face, glad that they were facing one another. Now, he could see that Jim was enjoying their playing and he would know if it got to be too much.

Ellison was about to ask Blair to stop. He knew he was going to be sore the next day, not only his ass, but his dick, as well. There were a couple of times that Jim thought that Blair was going too far and opened his mouth to say something, but Blair seemed to read his mind and the next pumps were not as tight or as rough. As it was, Jim’s body was following Blair’s hand movements, up and down. Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more…

Jim screamed out as his orgasm snuck up and overtook him. Luckily, their neighbors weren’t home for the evening yet, otherwise the police would have been called. Ellison collapsed back on the bed and rode out the softly dying waves of his completion, as Blair continued to lightly pump his still throbbing erection.

“Very good,” Blair whispered into his mouth as he kissed him. The Guide was pleased that Jim had finally spoken up.

Blair’s left hand stayed between Jim’s legs long after he had stopped twitching. The younger man alternated between cupping his softening penis and slipping down farther to hold and roll his balls. Blair knew what he was doing. If he kept quietly stimulating him, the Sentinel would be ready for another round before very long.

Blair grinned, and if Ellison had seen that smile, he would have been worried. He lay down beside Ellison and watched as the detective closed his eyes to rest. Blair laid his head on Jim’s shoulder to rest up for the next round himself, although his hand never stopped its caresses.

Touching Jim this way assured that he wouldn’t go completely soft, which suited Blair just fine, because he had plans for that fine butt of Ellison’s. The night was just beginning.

The End

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Author's Note: This is dedicated to PattRose, who wanted a Jim Bottom story, and her donation to the Moonridge Auction.

Jim Dandy
By Black Oak Arkansas

Jim Dandy to the rescue!
Jim Dandy to the rescue!
Jim Dandy to the rescue!
Go, Jim Dandy! Go, Jim Dandy!

I was sitting on a mountain top.
30,000 feet to drop.
Tied me on a runaway horse
Uh huh, that's right, of course.
Jim Dandy to the rescue!
Go, Jim Dandy! Go, Jim Dandy!

One day, I met a girl named Sue.
She was feeling kind of blue.
I'm Dandy, the kind of guy
Who can't stand to see a little girl cry.
Jim Dandy to the rescue!
Go, Jim Dandy! Go, Jim Dandy!

Jim Dandy to the rescue!
Jim Dandy to the rescue!
Jim Dandy to the rescue!
Go, Jim Dandy! Gooooooo!

I was riding on a submarine
Got a message from my mermaid queen.
She was hanging on a fishing line.
Mr. Dandy didn't waste no time!
Jim Dandy to the rescue!
Go, Jim Dandy! Go, Jim Dandy!

Once upon a time, I went to Maine.
Got a ticket on a DC plane.
Mr. Dandy didn't need no chute!
I was high and ready to boot!
Jim Dandy to the rescue!
Go, Jim Dandy! Go, Jim Dandy!

Jim Dandy to the rescue!
Jim Dandy to the rescue!
Jim Dandy to the rescue!
Go, Jim Dandy! Go, Jim Dandy!