Most of the weekend, Blair thought he'd had a fantastic idea -- except when he thought it was the worst idea he'd ever had.

It was routine for him to be complaining about the cold, wet, Cascade winter well before winter actually began. This year, it seemed liked he'd been cold since before the summer ended.

By January, he felt ready to go beg a spot on an expedition, with anyone, doing anything, to anywhere at all as long as it was warm. But of course he didn't pursue the idea -- leaving Jim wasn't an option.

By February, it occurred to him to bring Jim along. It took not as much convincing as he thought it might to get Jim to agree. Maybe Mr Stoicism was sick of the cold too, maybe it was the mention of surfing, or maybe he was just tired of hearing Blair complain -- the reason didn't matter, just the fact that by March, they were going.

Not on an anthropological expedition, of course -- but 4 days, 3 nights in Ixtapa was still an expedition.

Blair's extensive network of friendly acquaintances luckily included a travel agent that he'd done some undergrad work with, and between her knowledge of the best package deals and sharing a room to save money, this particular expedition turned out to be more achievable than he'd feared when he first had the brainstorm.

The planning went so smoothly that Blair half anticipated a run-in with terrorists or escaped convicts along the way, since that was just the sort of luck that they had, but that turned out to be a far cry from the trouble he actually found himself in.

And it wasn't Jim's complaints about how the sardine-tin nature of the charter flight was cutting off the circulation in his legs such that he was sure his feet were going to have to be lopped off as soon as they reached Mexican soil that had him regretting his winter getaway, or even the countless hungry looks that well over half the population of Ixtapa -- native and tourist, female and male -- were casting at his oblivious partner.

He couldn't complain about the weather, it was warm without being hot and hadn't rained a drop since they landed. He couldn't blame it on the food, which was delicious, or the hotel, which was beautiful, or on anything at all... except himself.

Well, and Jim.

Jim was everywhere. Half-naked. All gorgeous.

Blair was learning that he only thought he had no privacy at home. Living in the loft together, shared bathroom or not, was nothing like living in the same room together. There was nowhere he could go to escape the constant torment of Jim, nothing but Jim, all day, all night.

Everything they did together seemed to underscore the fact that they were so close to the relationship Blair longed to have with Jim, but didn't. And even though he had to be having some sort of unusually paranoid spell or something, it seemed to him that Jim was aware of what he was doing, flaunting his body, teasing him with their almost-togetherness.

When they ate, Jim would offer him bites of his own food so that Blair could sample as much of the local cuisine as possible. The unexpected thoughtfulness warmed his heart, while the intimacy of the gesture -- eating off the same fork or nibbling the same tortilla, Jim leaning in toward him, all hot skin and hard body -- warmed a lot of other parts of him.

They spent hours on the beach, Jim usually in nothing more than swimming trunks and lots of sunscreen... it was all Blair could do to keep his own trunks from announcing his appreciation for the sight when Jim seemed to be posing for him, catching his eye as he rearranged himself on his blanket or stood at the edge of the water poised to go for a swim.

In the relative cool of the evenings they would walk along the sea and through the town, enjoying the freedom from both the cold and the responsibilities of home, and Jim seemed to be even more inside his personal space than usual... Blair wouldn't have thought that possible, but as he lay in bed at night he was haunted by the feeling of Jim's skin rubbing up against his as they walked, the crinkle of the hair on his arms and legs as their limbs continually brushed together...

He didn't know how he'd made it this far, the afternoon of the third day, leading into their final night in Ixtapa. The initial relaxation that he'd felt at the start of their holiday had been overshadowed by the ever-increasing tension that being so close to Jim all the time was creating in him.

Look at him, Blair thought. How can he not know what he's doing to me?

Jim was rinsing the salt from his body, standing under an outdoor shower just off the edge of the sand. Sitting on a nearby bench, Blair watched as he slowly ran his hands down his arms, down his chest, the sun sparkling off the water and adding to the mesmerizing beauty of the scene.

The shower was a beautiful white columnar design, reminiscent of Roman or Greek architecture. Makes him look even more like some classical sculpture as he poses there...

When Jim bent over to brush the sand from his calves, Blair must have made a sound at the mouth-watering sight of that ass tightening, because suddenly Jim was standing upright again and looking straight at him. Not with any sort of questioning gaze, either -- Blair had a definite feeling of deer-in-the-headlights as Jim seemed to look all the way inside of him, seeing everything there was to see, everything Blair had been trying so hard to keep tucked away.

"Come here," Jim beckoned.

Blair never consciously planned to move, but suddenly there he was, partially drenched in the shower spray that was still coming down, so presumably he'd obeyed Jim's request. Command? No, request...

"What took you so long?" Jim asked, a touch of humor in his voice.

"What?" So many possible meanings, and none of them seemed to make any sense to his muddled mind...

"I thought I was going to have to finally just strip completely naked, or beg." His smile was warm and inviting, but Blair couldn't really make the words and the smile synch in any logical sort of way.

"Beg?"

"Look, Blair, talk is your thing, action is mine, right? But you seemed to have misplaced a whole bunch of syllables somewhere, so how 'bout we just try this my way, OK?"

And before his sun-slowed, lust-drugged brain could comprehend the intent behind those words, Jim has captured his mouth with his own... if Jim's arms hadn't gone around him, he would have hit the ground as his knees buckled with the shock of the incredible sensual onslaught.

Blair's brain hadn't caught up yet, but his body had no such trouble, and he molded himself to Jim's wet frame, almost growling in frustration at not being able to feel that slick skin directly due to the T-shirt, now soaked, that Blair still wore. He made up for the lack by rubbing his hands over everything he could reach, while lips and tongues and teeth got well acquainted.

But a sudden shift that got water right on his face was a startling reminder of just where they were, and he peeled himself off his partner and stood looking at Jim, dazed. Jim just looked back at him, breathing a bit fast but looking far more in control of himself than Blair felt.

"What was that?" Blair finally had the breath -- and the nerve -- to ask.

"I thought that's why we came down here. I thought you were finally going to take that last step, I thought you were finally ready. When you still didn't make a move, I waited, showing you that I was ready, willing, and able... why are we here, Chief?"

"Um... I was tired of the cold?"

"But when you told me about your idea, you kept emphasizing how we would be together, it would be just us... I thought you meant together together."

"I just meant... well, not that I didn't want that, but I just meant that I didn't want to go away alone, and leave you in cold, dreary Cascade dealing with work without me."

"If not now, Blair, how long were you planning to wait?"

"Wait? To make a move on you, you mean?"

"Right... every time I thought we were almost there, you'd dance away again, find some new fascinating someone that wasn't me, but you never stopped giving me signals. How long did you intend to keep this up?"

"God, Jim, I... I wasn't planning to do anything about it."

"Ever?"

"I thought you were straight, man!"

"Me?"

"Yes, you! You who was married, you with a penchant for dangerous women..."

"You really didn't know?"

"I'm not a complete masochist, Jim -- I would have done something if I thought I had a hope in hell of accomplishing anything other than ruining our friendship. And that's something that I would never risk."

Jim grinned suddenly. "Thanks, Chief. I like the sound of that." He moved closer, so that they were almost but not quite touching again, the lukewarm water still raining down on their legs as they stood half in and half out of the spray. "So if I told you that you stood every chance of accomplishing something we'd both enjoy, would you go for it?"

Blair fought down the surge of desire that the husky question sent through him, and looked at his best friend. He was startled by the fact that even after having established that they were both interested in the same thing, Jim was still being remarkably... passive. He wasn't sure if it was because Jim had already made the first step and felt that it was only fair that the next one be Blair's, or if it indicated something... deeper than that.

He took a deep breath, and put his hands on Jim's shoulders, squeezing lightly.

"Are you saying that you'd like me to... make a move, Jim?" he asked in the most seductive tone he could. He could feel a shudder run through his partner before he nodded slowly, almost shyly.

OK, I'm thinking it is something deeper...

He ran a hand down Jim's sleek chest, still warm from the sun. He flicked a nipple lightly in passing, and Jim's hips rocked forward in response, bringing their erections together lightly under the cover of wet swim trunks.

Blair wanted to groan at the feel of that hard cock against his, but he restrained the impulse. He did give in to the need to feel Jim's ass under his hands, reaching around and pulling his partner more tightly to him. He could feel the tension in Jim's body suddenly release as he melted into Blair.

The fog was gone from Blair's mind, burned away suddenly and completely by the trust that Jim was showing him. In its place was an all-consuming need to finally give them what they had both wanted for so long, to take Jim as his own and give all of himself in return. It was huge and intense and a tiny part of him made a very small squeak of protest and fear, but one look into Jim's eyes, glowing with love and acceptance and need, and that part was silenced.

Squeezing Jim's firm ass, Blair ground their erections together, his eyes still on his partner's. "Mine," he growled, and Jim made an almost mewling sound in reply.

"Yes," Jim finally got out, his hips making abortive jerking motions into Blair's groin.

Blair realized that Jim's hands were still at his sides, and that he was obviously struggling not to move. He sent a quick and heartfelt plea to the heavens that he not somehow abuse the power that Jim had unexpectedly granted him, picked up Jim's hands, and placed them on his own hips.

"I love you, Jim." A stunning smile from his partner was answer enough.

"Let's get our towels and head back to the room, OK? It's... siesta time."