The Last First Time - Tinnean
There were a lot of first times in my life.
The first time Naomi, my mom, told me to get packed, we were leaving - contrary to popular belief, she'd been with Uncle Tim since I was two, and now I was six.
The first time I heard the word 'bastard.' I asked Naomi what it meant. She looked upset, but then she sighed and explained.
The next first time was the following day when I punched the kid who'd called me that. Not so much because he called me that, but because the way he'd done it made it clear my mother was at fault.
And right after that was the first time I visited the principal's office.
Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of fun first times, too, like the first time I kissed a girl.
The first time I kissed a boy. Because, yeah, why should I limit myself? Being bisexual just increased the odds that I didn't spend Saturday night alone.
Anyway, I'd liked both experiences, and they'd led to more first times - getting to second base, sliding into third, and that unforgettable first time I made it all the way to home plate.
Of course, all the times after that were wonderful, hot, tight, wet, friction that just about drives you crazy - hey, it's all good.
But the thing was, while I loved them all, I was never in love with them.
Maybe that was why I never bottomed for any of the boys, and I never got serious with any of the girls. And when it came time to move on, I did so with a whole heart.
Meeting Jim Ellison was the beginning of a whole 'nother set of first times.
The first time he tossed me up against a wall - I don't object to a little tossing between friends, but we weren't friends then, we'd just met, and he was seriously pissed at me. Hey, you don't call someone you like a 'neo-hippy witch doctor punk.'
Although I guess me calling him a 'behavioral throwback to a pre-civilized breed of man' could be taken the wrong way.
That was followed shortly by the first time I threw myself on top of him, and no, it wasn't what you're thinking. See, Jim is a Sentinel, with a capital S, one of those very rare people who have not one, not two, not three, but all five senses hyperactive.
The man was my Holy Grail, not that he wanted to hear that. He'd stormed out of my dinky little office in the basement of Hargrove Hall at Rainier, and then his senses went out of whack and he zoned, which resulted in the throwing-myself-on-him-to-keep-him- from-getting-run-over-by-a-garbage-truck thing. It really sucked, man, and I could have lived without a first-time experience like that.
Another first time I could have lived without was having my apartment blown up. How was I supposed to know my neighbors were running a drug lab and that they'd be so stupid as to let it blow up?
But that led to the first time I ever moved in with someone, and that was a pretty big 'but.' I'd lived alone since I'd been on my own. Except for Larry, the ape. Uh... another story, and you don't want to hear it now.
So yeah, I moved in with Jim Ellison. By this point I had my credentials and was his ride-along observer, so it only made sense that I move in with him. Well, technically I was just supposed to be staying with him until I found another apartment.
Neither of us expected it to be for long. The longest relationship I'd ever had had run about a semester, and while Jim had a better record, it was only slightly better; his marriage to Carolyn had only managed to last eighteen months.
Somehow three weeks stretched to three months stretched to three years, and that was another first time for me, since I'd learned from Naomi never to stay in one place for very long. "Detach with love, sweetie." Although, of course, there was no love between Jim and me.
Oh, there was liking - you can't live with someone for three years if you don't. Like him, I mean.
I mean, I wouldn't have gone to bed with the man the first time if I hadn't liked him.
He was a great guy under that gruff exterior, and I couldn't understand why none of the women he dated realized that.
Although maybe it was because he had a tendency to date psycho bitches.
The last one really seemed to have broken his heart. He dragged himself home, all morose, and that about broke my heart. I pulled out the Jack Daniels and got drunk with him.
It was only to help cheer him up, that was all. I had no intention of winding up in bed with him.
Only I did.
The next morning I woke with the world's most vicious hangover and the memory of the world's sweetest cock in my mouth. I slipped out of bed and started toward the stairs on tiptoe.
"Going somewhere, Chief?"
I winced and eyed him warily. "You don't have to yell at me."
"I wasn't yelling."
"Oh, well... " Now I remembered why I didn't drink.
"You plan on answering my question?"
"Huh? Oh. I... uh... I thought you might not be too happy waking up with me next to you."
"Why would you think that? You're one of the good guys, Chief."
"Yeah?" I couldn't help grinning, in spite of the fact that the pain in my head made it feel like at any minute it was going to puree my brain until it leaked out my nose. "Okay, then. But... " I shut my mouth. If he didn't remember me sucking his cock, I wasn't going to remind him.
"But?" he encouraged.
I obfuscated. "You don't sleep with guys, Jim!"
"I don't?" His grin was slow, slumberous, and sexy as hell, and at any other time I would have appreciated that alliteration.
"Oh, man, please don't tease me when I'm three-quarters dead!"
"Why don't you come back to bed and sleep it off?" He patted the sheets beside him. Suddenly he looked uncertain, his brows furrowed and his gaze dropping to the bedspread, where he started to pick at something only apparent to a Sentinel. "That is... " He glanced up at me through his lashes. "... if you want to?"
I didn't know where this was coming from, and I didn't know how long this new status would remain quo, but I realized I did want to. I'd wanted to for a long time but just hadn't allowed myself to acknowledge it.
"Give me a minute? I really need to get some aspirin. You want some?"
"No. I'm good."
"I don't know how you can be," I muttered as I made my way down the stairs into the early morning dimness of the main floor of the loft. "God knows you matched me drink for drink!" Hadn't he? My head hurt too much to give that any kind of consideration.
It wound up taking me longer than a minute. After I'd been suitably medicated, I washed all pertinent areas. I didn't want to offend my Sentinel, after all.
"I thought you'd changed your mind," he said when I came back.
"Weren't you listening?"
"No. That would have been infringing on your privacy."
I slid between the sheets and teased. "You mean you never listened while I was jerking off?"
"Well... " He blushed, then sniffed. "You brushed your teeth."
"Yeah. I figured I'd better."
"Planning on getting lucky?"
"I already am lucky, Jim. I'm in your bed, you haven't told me I've got until sundown to get out of the loft - you aren't going to tell me that, are you?"
"No." He grinned and ruffled my hair, then pulled me against him and kissed my forehead. "Get some sleep."
Later that morning, Jim woke me up by licking and sucking random body parts, and topped it off by blowing a warm breath in my ear. "I want to fuck you, Chief."
I'd never been fucked, but my cock seemed think now would be the perfect time to start. Already hard, it quivered and twitched, and a clear drop of precome beaded at the tip.
"Okay, Jim, but you will be gentle, won't you?"
"'Cause it's your first time, Chief?" His cool blue eyes widened as they took in my blush. "It is?"
I swallowed and nodded. Suddenly I realized there was another first going on here. I not only loved Jim, but I was in love with him.
"But you've been with guys before, haven't you? I mean, no one gives head like that without some practice."
"Yeah, but if it comes to that, I could say the same thing of you."
"Well, yes, but that doesn't mean I let them fuck me."
"Same here. Listen, can we table this discussion for after?"
"You mean you're going to let me... " Jim's cool blue eyes grew hot. "Yeah."
Afterwards, he lay sprawled on top of me and brushed kisses over my shoulder blades.
"You okay, Chief?"
He couldn't tell from the way I'd moaned and thrust my ass back at him? I couldn't resist teasing him again.
"Jim, I love you, man, but I am not doing that ever again. Ever."
"You love me?"
Shit. That had slipped out. "Um... yes?"
"I'm glad to hear that. Because I love you too. But did I hurt you?"
"No, I'm fine. In fact, as soon as you can get it up, I'd like to do it again."
"Me too." He pushed my hair out of his way and planted a kiss on the side of my neck. "But this is going to be an equal opportunity partnership. I want you to fuck me too, Blair."
Oh, wow! "You do?" I couldn't believe it. This big, tough guy - former black ops, former vice cop, cop of the year - and he wanted to bottom for me, Naomi Sandburg's little boy Blair?
"Are you okay with that?"
"Why don't you put on another condom, and I'll show you how okay I am with that?"
He let out a laugh, a happy, pleased sound. Who would have thought only twelve hours earlier he'd been upset because another woman had trampled his heart?
That bothered me. Was he on the rebound?"
"I can hear the worry in your voice, Chief. We'll talk it all out later, okay?"
Fuck it if he was on the rebound. I had him now, and I wasn't going to let him go.
We had that talk, but it was much later.
Jim wasn't on the rebound. Oh, he liked the woman, but they were just pals who occasionally caught a movie together. The only reason he'd insinuated they were dating was so I wouldn't suspect he was pining for me. When it seemed like his ploy was working a little too successfully, he'd decided to go the broken-hearted lover route in hopes it might have more positive results.
Which it did. But...
"You should have said, Jim. So much wasted time... "
He had been bi almost as long as he'd had his hyperactive senses. "I thought it was part of the whole package, and when my father told me never to tell anyone, that they'd think I was a freak, I thought that included my attraction to boys as well. When I got in the army, there were a few encounters, but they were almost always in the dark, furtive, you know?"
I knew, and I felt so sad for him.
"Things were different when I lived with the Chopecs, but that was a whole different culture. Once I got back to the States, I pushed it all out of my mind. Somehow, Jack Prendergast figured it out. He told me to keep it low key."
"You had an affair - "
"No. He was never anything more than a friend."
"So why didn't you ever say anything to me? I'm your friend too!""
"I wanted to keep your friendship, Chief."
I blew out a breath. "Jeez, Jim. I'm an anthropologist!" Even though I didn't quite have my diss finished, and it looked like now I might have to find a completely different topic. "I'm Naomi's son! I'm broadminded, for Pete's sake!"
"Yeah, but - "
"You said yourself I'd even hump a table leg!" Although now I came to think about it, that wasn't very flattering.
He shrugged. "I just never thought you'd hump me."
"Now you know different."
"Yes." The corner of his mouth kicked up in a grin. "C'mere, Chief."
And that was the end of the conversation.
Afterwards, I had a silly grin on my face and couldn't sit down for a week.
Okay, that isn't exactly an accurate choice of words.
It was more a smug grin than a silly one.
I was pretty sure loving Jim was going to be my last first time, but as it turned out, it wasn't.
'Love doesn't last forever, sweetie,' Naomi had told me more than once growing up. 'In spite of all the fairy tales and contrary to what the romance novels would have you believe, love doesn't last forever.'
I looked across the room to where Jim sat on the couch, his legs spread comfortably, a beer in one hand and the remote in the other.
He looked over at me, a slow grin lighting his face, and patted the cushion beside him.
I smiled to myself and went to join him.
That was the first time I realized that Naomi was wrong.
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Acknowledgments: Thanks to Patt for asking me to contribute, to Nicci Mac for allowing the use of her amazing manip, and as always, to Gail for the beta and for being my cheering section.