Blair Sandburg kicked at the flat tire on his car and cursed loud and long. He turned back toward the road in the vain hope of catching someone's attention and gasped in shock as a truck came barreling past, skirting a deep pool of water and sent it cascading over him, drenching him to the skin.
"Shit!" He shivered violently at the frigid sensation and shook his hair, droplets spraying into the night air. Leaning into the car, he pulled his backpack from the passenger seat and fumbled it open with clumsy hands. Breathing a sigh of relief, his numb fingers found what they were after and he pulled the cell phone from inside. Only to toss it onto the seat with a muttered epithet as his eyes registered the flat battery light.
He straightened and looked up and down the street. Apart from the truck that had so recently doused him, the road appeared deserted. Not surprising, considering the late hour. Blair had been working in his office and once more, the time had totally slipped away without him noticing. It was 2 a.m. before he left the university and close to 2:15 now. The cell phone was of little use to him anyway. Jim was on a stakeout and had no idea how long it might be before he got home and Blair certainly didn't have money for cab fare.
Blair pulled his backpack over his shoulders and locked the car. Hunching his body further into his threadbare coat, he crossed his arms over his chest in a vain hope of warding off the bitter wind and began to walk in the direction of home.
Home. The word had a nice ring to it, Blair decided. It was not the apartment itself, though compared to the anthropologist's previous living quarters in an old warehouse, it was pretty up-market. It was more the atmosphere of warmth and welcome that pervaded it and settled into Blair's bones the very moment he opened the front door. More importantly, it was the man who owned the loft and had taken him in, sharing his food, his shelter, his life, his hopes and dreams and now, finally, his bed. Blair felt a shiver of delicious anticipation when he thought of Jim.
He contented himself now with conjuring up a mental picture of his lover, lying naked on their bed, waiting for him as Blair finally finished his studying and headed upstairs. In his mind's eye, he could see the contours of Jim's broad chest, his narrow waist and further down, strong thighs that opened to reveal a hard, leaking cock, jutting up from sparse pubic curls, damp with precome.
Blair sighed and then shivered violently as the wind picked up speed and buffeted his body. The rain had turned to sleet now, small sharp pellets pelting his face. He wondered, perhaps, if he should have stayed in the car, safe and relatively warm, out of the stormy weather and answered his own question as his ankle turned in a dip in the road and he went down on his knees. He staggered up and continued to limp onward, biting down on the pain that surged with each step.
He bent his head into the wind and forced himself to keep moving though he was fast becoming exhausted and sleepy. Headlights flared ahead of him and he raised a hand to shield his aching eyes as the vehicle slowed.
"Sandburg? Thank God. Are you all right?"
Blair continued to walk, oblivious to the words that washed over him, hearing only a nonsensical mish-mash of sound. A car door slammed and then a large body blocked his way. Blair tried to walk around the obstacle but it moved with him. He attempted to shake off the hands that gripped his shoulders, impeding his journey home. His head lolled as the hands shook him and then finally, simply turned him around and allowed his plodding, stumbling feet to lead him to the truck. He felt himself lifted and then doors slammed once more and suddenly he registered the warmth. The blissful, overwhelming pleasure of heat that bathed his face and body. Blair sighed happily, then shifted his gaze to the man beside him.
Jim turned and smiled, then steered the truck back onto the road. "Yeah, it's me."
"How'd you know where I was?" Blair slurred.
"Just a feeling, Chief. It's been bugging me all night."
"Huh. What do you know? We must have a connection or something."
Jim reached over and squeezed a rapidly thawing hand. "Or something."
Blair reached out his other hand and pressed it lovingly over Jim's groin. "I was having a dream about you," he slurred. "Was a good one, too."
Jim squirmed and moved Blair's hand. "There's that connection again, Chief. Tell you what, when we get home and your hands, and the rest of you are warmed up, you can have the real thing."
"Sounds like a plan," Blair answered, already drifting off. "It's good to be home."
"We're not home yet, babe."
"Sure we are," Blair answered sleepily. He raised one slightly less than frigid hand and patted Jim's chest. "This is home."
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Author's Acknowledgements: I needed some serious cheering up, so did Lisa, so this one's for you, Lisa. :-) It's a little Seasons snippet.