Inspired by the Ordinary - Tangent
"Blair. Come on, it's time for dinner."
Blair blinked and looked up from his laptop. He'd been totally lost in the scene and kind of willing to stay lost. Who cared about food when the right words were flowing like water? "I'll eat later," he assured Jim, but got a steely-eyed glare in return.
"Eat now. You've been writing all day without a break. You're going to warp your spine, spending so many hours hunched over the computer."
Blair grinned, stretched luxuriously. "You'll just have to give me a massage later. That'll fix me."
Jim smiled back, but his eyes were determined and his jaw was set. "No massages--or anything else--unless you eat something, Chief."
"You're such a nag." Blair saved his work and powered down his computer. The writing mood was broken but he'd gotten a lot accomplished already. And dinner smelled delicious.
He wandered over to the table. Jim had already dished out dinner, so Blair took a second to savor the smells, the careful arrangement of food. Really, Jim was an artist when it came to cooking. A temperamental perfectionist like the best of them. His talent had been going to waste before Blair moved in. He'd been living on such a stereotypical cop diet that it had been a surprise to Blair the first time Jim had actually cooked for him and produced a meal better than almost any he'd had before. He'd known about the senses by then, but he hadn't known how well Jim could use them when it came to something he cared about, like detective work, like food.
"I'm going to make Will consider going into the restaurant business in the next book," he decided, finally twirling some pasta on his fork. Jim had already dug in but looked up with a sigh when Blair mentioned Will.
"Don't you get tired of writing for the same characters?" he asked, as he always did. It made him nervous to be the inspiration for the main character in Blair's most popular series.
"Never do." Blair took his first bite, closed his eyes and moaned. "God, Jim. I love it when it's your turn to cook."
Jim chuckled. "Me too. It's nice to escape tofu and rhubarb every now and again."
"Now, now. I don't even remember the last time I tried something that experimental."
"I do. I definitely, definitely do."
Blair opened his eyes and grinned. "So maybe in the next story, I'll have Will quit the force and open a restaurant where they serve nothing but tofu and rhubarb, you remember it so well."
"And what will John do? I don't see much call for anthropologists in the restaurant business."
"John will sit in the dining room and make notes on human interaction and who's enjoying what meal. Invaluable knowledge, really." Blair twirled more pasta on his fork as he thought about it. He'd just been joking but maybe that was a good idea. Will'd been suffering from a little burnout lately and John was about ready to give up on curing him of it. Maybe this case, the one he was writing now, would send Will over the edge and into business for himself. He and John could still get sucked into cases. Lots and lots of cases, hopefully.
"I love living with the inspiration for my best characters," he said and Jim rolled his eyes.
"Sometimes I hate being that inspiration. I can't live up to Will's superhero status."
Blair rose out of his seat, leaned across the table to kiss his partner. It was meant to be just a quick peck but he lingered, drew it out. Jim tasted of alfredo sauce and red wine, spices and heat and himself. Delicious.
"You're a superhero to me," he murmured against Jim's lips. Jim smiled, slowly, a little reluctantly, but it was a real smile. Blair sat back down. He was half-hard and a little uncomfortable, but that was part of the pleasure, really. Drawing it all out until every heartbeat was a reminder of what he felt for Jim, until every inch of his skin felt taut and achy and sensitive.
They ate in silence for a while. But Blair was nearing the halfway point in this newest novel, and it was time for Jim's favorite question--
"This going to be the book where they fall into bed together?" Jim asked. Blair laughed.
"Man, you ask that with every book. Sometimes I think you're the one that started the whole will they/won't they debate."
Jim's expression was smug and cool. "It's not will they/won't they to me," he said. "The only question is when."
That was really the only question Blair had, too. Will and John had been working together for five years, edging a little closer to loving each other in each book, and Blair was nearly sick of making them wait.
The next book, he thought, and once the decision was made it felt right. He'd have to make an outline right after dinner, while the ideas were still fresh and new and perfect. If he waited until he was done with the newest book, he wouldn't be sure that the ideas were any good. Better to get them down and remove any doubt.
He had to worry a little bit, though. He had a lot of fans who weren't going to be happy if John and Will hit the sheets together, never mind that he'd been building up to that over the course of twelve books. Not many were homophobic at all, he was sure. They just wanted to see their beloved characters with wives and children and normal, happy lives.
It wasn't going to happen like that, which was too bad for those fans. His characters were exceptional people, and they were going to live exceptional lives, which would make the moments of intimacy and day-to-day life all the sweeter.
He cleared his plate, still thinking of all his characters had gone through, the rewards that were waiting for them just around the corner.
"I don't want our sex life to be the inspiration for theirs," Jim said as they washed dishes together, his expression suddenly alarmed.
Blair grinned. "Don't worry. John will totally be the top." Jim tangled big, soapy hands in his hair, growling a little. Blair laughed and ducked, dancing out of reach.
"I'll show you tops," Jim said, a huge grin on his face. His eyes were already changing, darkening. Blair loved watching Jim's arousal build--his body was so gorgeous, his expressions ranging from glorious and hot to so gentle and tender that it made Blair want to weep. Their sex life wouldn't be the inspiration for his characters', but he'd make sure that John and Will were just as hungry, and just as sweet.
Jim was his real-life Sentinel, and the inspiration for all of the extraordinary things that Will could do. But he was also ordinary, a strong man with flaws and talents, and that was what Blair liked best about him. That was what inspired him the most.
Jim caught him by the fridge, his wet hands sliding down Blair's arms to his wrists and latching on. He backed Blair against the cool metal and settled their bodies together, so close that Blair had to work at taking deep breaths.
"The dishes," he said, making a game out of avoiding Jim's mouth. "You're so anal about your kitchen, so we better stop playing and do the dishes."
"Screw the dishes," Jim mumbled before latching his mouth onto one of the cords in Blair's neck. Blair arched his back a little and moaned, his hands gripping Jim's tight ass and squeezing.
"You need a shower," he said through another moan. "You smell like gunpowder and that crap coffee they give you at the station."
"That idea, I like," Jim said, and he pulled back. Blair gripped him hard again, not really wanting to stop, and Jim grinned. "You need a shower too, Chief. You smell like your computer. We better take one together."
"Water conservation?" Blair asked, sliding out from between Jim's body and the fridge, ready and willing to conserve as much water as Jim wanted to conserve. Really, shower sex was some of his favorite sex--he loved soaping Jim's body, watching the bubbles slide over hard muscle, touching smooth skin slicked by water. He loved going down on Jim with the tropical scents of soap and shampoo steaming around them, the water pouring over them; that reminded him of the jungle where they'd spent their first vacation working on Jim's senses and his novels. He loved curling up with Jim in the tub after, both of them boneless with satiation.
"Water conservation is too trite a reason," Jim said decisively, allowing Blair to pull him towards the bathroom. "Don't let John and Will use that as an excuse for shower sex. Use...the massage head and an experiment."
Blair laughed, but the idea seemed really hot. Maybe I will use that, he thought, herding Jim into the bathroom and starting to strip him. Or maybe I won't give them an excuse at all. Maybe they'll just want to touch each other and the shower will be a nice, warm, exciting place to do it.
Yeah, he liked that idea.
"You're so cool," he told Jim, grinning. His mind was just racing with ideas for the novels, with images of him and Jim in bed, on the couch, in the shower. He loved it when ideas came faster than he could even recognize them.
Jim nodded gravely, pushed off his pants and boxers, twisted to turn on the shower. "I know I am," he said, looking over his shoulder while he tested the water temperature. "That's why you love me."
Blair laughed, kissed Jim's shoulder, nipped. "When you're right, you're right," he said. "Give the man a cookie."
Jim turned back around, covered Blair's mouth. "Give the man a good, hard fuck," he breathed, and Blair moaned, losing the ideas for novels and focusing entirely on Jim. That was something else he loved--his partner inspired the books, and then made him forget them. Never happened before Jim, not that much at all had happened before Jim. Blair'd just been an aimless wanderer, a man without a purpose. Naomi's son, just like his mother. Then one day when he walked into the police station, searching for inspiration, he'd looked up and into the most amazing pair of blue eyes God had ever created. Wham, bam, instant reason to live.
Jim had given him the courage to straighten out his life. The support to use his talent for storytelling. The love he had needed to stabilize his life. In return, he'd given the ability to work with the heightened senses instead of against them, a partner who could watch Jim's back when it was necessary. His relationship with Jim...was just amazing.
"I'll give the man anything he wants," he promised, and stepped into the shower. Jim followed, already hard as a rock and ready for anything, and Blair settled down onto his knees. He looked up into Jim's eyes, waiting while he twisted his strong hands in Blair's curly hair. Love softened the moment and they both smiled.
Life was very sweet.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to the entire zine crew, but especially to Patt, who sucked me in, and Mary, who made this story better.