Hair Trigger

First Published: November 17, 2003
Rating: R
Pairing: Jim/Blair
Word Count: 17kb

Summary: Blair is left to cope with a rather over stimulated sentinel when Jim's girlfriend walks out leaving him high and not so dry.

Blair climbed the stairs to the apartment slowly, wishing like hell that he didn't have to be here. Jim had given him plenty of warning, told him a whole week ago about needing some privacy tonight. He ought to have made sure of his arrangements long before now, but he had been too busy juggling two girls, trying to keep them from finding out about each other, trying, as always to keep too many plates in the air.

As he reached the final step, he took a deep breath and fished his door keys out of his pocket. Maybe Jim wouldn't notice him coming in if he were... distracted enough? Maybe Blair could make a break for his room before the Sentinel realized he had come in? Once again, he cursed his friend Toby. The guy had the worst memory in living history. Blair had arrived at his apartment, only to find a locked door. A neighbor had informed him that Toby had gone away for the weekend, obviously forgetting that he'd offered Blair a bed for the night.


It was late, and Blair could think of no one else to impose on at this hour. So, reluctantly, he had made his way home. As he slid the key into the lock, he crossed his fingers and took another deep breath. His greatest hope was that Jim and his date had made it to the bedroom. He couldn't begin to imagine how embarrassing it would be to come in to find Jim and some woman, rolling about, naked, in the living room.

That mental picture had him blinking for a moment in surprised arousal.

As it turned out, he needn't have worried. No sooner had his key turned in the lock, than the door flew open, and he came face to face with a tall, red-haired beauty. She looked as if she badly wanted to hurt someone. Blair took an involuntary step backwards as the disheveled redhead, who appeared to be having a bad hair day, pushed past him into the corridor. He watched her disappear down the stairs before hesitantly peeking around the door.

Jim was standing in the middle of the floor looking dazed, his soft grey robe hanging loosely from his shoulders. His chest was heaving, and his eyes seemed to be focused somewhere over Blair's head. Having spent enough time in Ellison's company to recognize a major league zone out when he saw it, Blair forgot his previous anxieties and rushed to Jim's side.

The door slammed shut behind Blair as he approached Jim, vainly trying to ignore the large and leaking boner Jim made no effort to hide.

Blair moderated his voice to the soothing tones he always used when trying to get through to Jim after the sentinel had lost his grip on reality. "Jim? Buddy, are you okay? Hey, listen to my voice, Jim. Concentrate on my voice. Come back to me, Jim. That's it. Everything is fine."

The unfocused blue eyes seemed to waver for a moment, then suddenly Jim's legs buckled and he went down hard.

Blair was beside him in a heartbeat. "Shit. Jim, what happened?"

Jim began to shiver and tug at the edges of his robe, as if the material were bothering him. "Hurts, Chief." He groaned, voice barely audible.

"What hurts?" Blair watched in concern as his friend managed to pull the edges of the robe apart, revealing a wide expanse of chest.

"Everything. Oh God, make it stop."

Sandburg placed his hand gently on Jim's forehead, trying to gauge if he was running a temperature. But even that softest of touches seemed to cause the Sentinel discomfort, so he hastily withdrew his hand. Jim had managed to sit upright, and the robe had slipped completely from his shoulders, leaving him, to all intents and purposes, naked.

Blair kept his eyes fixed very resolutely on his friend's face. "Ah... Jim, you have to tell me what happened, man. You were zoning out big time. And Cherie seemed a little pissed, to say the least. What did you do to her?"

Jim's eyes lost their focus again and he tried to shuffle backwards across the floor, trying to put some distance between himself and Blair.

"Stop...breathing...on me. Hurts."

Blair rocked back on his heels, staring in disbelief at Jim. Experimentally, he leaned in a little closer and blew into Jim's face, not really surprised when he flinched visibly. "God, Jim, your sense of touch seems to be off the scale. Can you dial it down a few notches?"

Jim staggered to his feet, leaving the robe where it lay. Blair found himself fascinated with the polished floorboards, the back of the white couch, the flaking paint on the pipes... anything rather than his friend's naked groin.

"Blair, Make... It... STOP!"

"I... I'm not sure I can, Jim."

"Please!" Jim turned, bracing his hands against the back of the couch and bent down until his forehead rested lightly on the cushion. Then his head snapped upright again and he began moaning. Blair got up and started pacing. He had to do something. He couldn't let Jim suffer like this.

Blair had always tried not to speculate too much about Jim's sex life. He assumed that Jim must have to keep his senses very firmly under control, but now that he was actually faced with the evidence, he had to admit that this was something they both should have been expecting.

Eventually there would come a time when Jim's iron control slipped. Cherie's hasty exit attested to that. And amazingly, whatever had happened, it had only taken the edge off Jim's arousal. Blair suspected that in this state, even the tiniest of touches was turning the Sentinel on, beyond his ability to control.

Suddenly realizing that the backdraft from his pacing was making Jim uncomfortable, Blair stood still. He clawed his hand through his hair. Jim's skin was hypersensitive; his control, nonexistent. The only solution was to desensitize him. Blair picked up the discarded robe, then moved to stand behind his friend.

"Okay, Jim, I'm going to touch you now. Try to stand still." Gently, he draped the robe over Jim's sweating form.

The Sentinel gasped and threw his head back in pain. "Blair!" Moaning, he clenched his fists until his knuckles went white.

"It's okay Jim, I'm right here. You're okay."

Blair laid his hand lightly on Jim's arm and held on despite the sharp hiss of breath that resulted. They stood like that for a moment - Jim accustoming himself to the new level of pain, Blair trying to think of what to do next.

He hated to do this, but he needed more information. "Jim, can you tell me what exactly triggered the zone out? I mean, I know it's kinda personal, but it might help if I knew."

At first, Blair thought Jim wouldn't answer. The seconds ticked by, one by one, until Blair almost asked again. But then Jim said one word. "Hair."

Blair let his hand move lightly up Jim's shaking arm, ignoring the way his friend's fingers curled into a fist with the pain. "Hair? Your hair...? Her hair...?"

"Hers. We had a shower together; she was drying her hair with your hairdryer..." Blair's eyes narrowed at hearing this. He was sure he had put the hairdryer back in his room. He chose to ignore the breach of privacy to hear more of the story.

"... I was lying on the couch and I mentioned how beautiful her hair looked."

"And then you zoned out?" Blair's hand reached for Jim's shoulder. He squeezed and noted that his friend seemed not to flinch quite so badly.

"No, not right away. She dropped the hairdryer, and sort of crawled across to me. She pulled my robe open and...."

Blair lifted his other to Jim's other shoulder, and began to knead the knotted muscles under his fingers, noticing that Jim's head rolled from side to side. The story was getting very interesting and he wasn't going to let Jim stop there.

"Yeah, yeah And....?"

"She... she sort of trailed her hair across my chest. The further down she went, the better it felt. Then it was *all* I could feel."

Blair pictured the scene in his head, while his fingers squeezed harder and his breathing became more labored.

"Then what?" he asked tightly.

"Chief, you're hurting me."

"Shit. Sorry, man."

Blair let his hands drop to his sides and quickly averted his gaze as Jim turned to face him, struggling to get his arms into his robe. He was obviously still in some discomfort, but now it was at least tolerable. Once he had secured the belt, Jim walked around the couch and sat gingerly on the edge of the cushion.

Blair followed, more than a little pleased at how open his friend had been. Jim normally refused to talk about what sex was like from a Sentinel perspective. It was the one subject Blair really wanted to explore, and the only one that had remained taboo. Perhaps now was a good time to push the boundaries?

"Has anything like this ever happened to you before, Jim?"

"I zone out all the time, Blair, you know that."

"I mean, during sex.... Have you ever zoned out during sex?"

Jim managed to sit back without flinching and let his head loll backwards. "Nope. I've always kept everything tightly controlled. I never lose it in bed, Chief; it would be too difficult to explain."

"So, what went wrong?"

Jim actually blushed. He cleared his throat and stared at the ceiling, but for once, he opted for telling the truth instead of prevaricating. "The hair," he admitted softly. "I have a thing about hair... trailing... against my skin. It's sort of a fantasy of mine. Okay?"

Blair sat on the edge of the coffee table facing Jim. He knew that must have taken some guts to admit. Not that it was in any way kinky or outlandish, but it was very personal, so he felt a little guilty for pushing it.

"Yeah? With me, it's biting. I love the feel of teeth against my skin... especially on my neck."

Jim cracked one eye open and fixed it on his friend. Blair just smiled back. Jim had made a personal disclosure, so he had made one, too. They were even now. Jim finally opened both eyes and sat upright.

"Gee, thanks for loading me up with that image, Chief."

Blair's grin grew wider. He reached out and gave Jim's knee a friendly pat, and testing, let it rest there. "So, touch dial back in neutral now?"

Jim stared at Blair's fingers resting on his knee, focused in on the short, neatly trimmed fingernails, zoomed in on the tiny, half-moon shaped cuticles. Blair's voice broke his concentration and he quickly drew back his vision.


"Yeah, almost back to normal. Thanks, Chief."

Blair took in the shadows under Jim's eyes, the signs of deep fatigue and weakness that often manifested themselves after a major zone out like this. No way was Jim making it up those stairs tonight. He knelt down in front of Jim and eased him back onto the couch, lifting Jim's legs so that his friend was lying on his back. The robe fell open, and Blair could'nt avoid noticing that Jim was still semi-erect. "Get some sleep, man," he whispered, reaching across to pull the afghan from the back of the couch. "Everything will be better in the morning."

But as he tugged at the blanket, his hair fell over his shoulder, and trailed across Jim's exposed stomach. Blair was totally unprepared when Jim arched his back towards the silken sensation, both hands burying themselves in Blair's hair, holding him down firmly.

Blair gasped, feeling the hot press of swollen flesh against his cheek. "Jim!" he squeaked helplessly, suddenly understanding why Cherie had looked so pissed off, and... ewww... why her hair had been sticking up in the air like that.

But Jim was gone again. Oh wow, he really did have a thing about hair didn't he? Hips rocking, one hand holding Blair in place, the other spreading Blair's curls across his groin, he began moaning in helpless pleasure. Taking hold of a fistful of satin soft hair, Jim pressed it against his erection, gasping at the feel of all those tiny spirals touching sensitive skin. His back arched again, pushing his painfully erect cock through Blair's hair repeatedly, each thrust forcing a hoarse cry from his lips.

It was incredibly erotic, if Blair were honest. He tried to pull away, but Jim moaned. "No! Blair, stay. It feels so good."

Shit! Jim was not mistaking him for Cherie, or any other female for that matter! No, Jim knew exactly whose hair he was fucking. Blair managed to turn his head, though Jim's free hand at his nape prevented him from drawing back, and decided that had to have been one of his worst decisions yet. Now, he was faced with a huge, throbbing erection and Jim's hand on the back of his neck seemed adamant that he should make an even closer inspection.

"Blair, please? I need this. Please?"

Blair felt a rush of desire flood his synapses. He knew what Jim was asking, knew what he had been trying to tell him all evening. Jim wanted to let go. He wanted to lose control. And there was no one in this world with whom he could do that except Blair Sandburg. It made perfect, if rather unexpected, sense.

Blair doubted that Jim had given this any thought. This was an instinctual response to his heightened arousal from earlier, but Jim's need was very real and, to be honest, so was Blair's. He would never admit it to Jim, but he had occasionally had some erotic dreams guest starring his partner and a can of whipped cream.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Blair Sandburg went down with the ship.


A Few Hours Later...



"Don't answer this if you don't want to, but I was wondering why you let me do this. I mean, you never showed any interest before."

Blair shifted a little in Jim's huge bed. He was feeling very mellow at the moment, but the big guy was using his chest as a pillow and he weighed a ton.

"Neither did you, Jim. If I'd had even the faintest notion you swung both ways, I would have jumped you a long time ago." He was about to try to wriggle free when Jim began nuzzling his throat and decided being crushed wasn't so bad after all.

Suddenly, Jim rolled on top of Blair and pulled the younger man's wrists up above his head, trapping them firmly against the pillows. "I would have beaten you to that jump, if only I'd known Chief."

"Known what?" asked Blair, a little distracted by the roughness of the thumbs stroking against his palms. Then, he felt the full force of Jim's intense gaze, and it took his breath away.

"That if I let myself fall, you'd catch me." answered Jim softly.

He sank his teeth into the soft flesh of Blair's neck, smiling at his hissed intake of breath. "Besides, I didn't know I swung both ways until you started feeling up my knee."

Blair struggled half-heartedly to free his hands, but his movements soon segued from wriggling into writhing. "Hey, that was a test to see if you could handle touch without hitting the roof," he growled defensively. The blood supply his brain required to argue effectively was rapidly being diverted southwards.

"A test?" the Sentinel murmured against Blair's chin. "Damn, Sandburg, if only all your tests were this much fun."



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