Disclaimers: They're not mine, they don't even all belong to the same people. Oh, also, gay sex here, and plenty of it! And thanks goes to my betas, Caro Dee, CarolROI and Stacey Holbrook.
Jim hated working the swing shift, getting home just when normal people were going about their day, trying to sleep despite the glaring light and hectic noise of the outside world. And worse, he thought as he unlocked the door, it sounded like Blair was late to class, still showering, which meant there wasn't going to be any hot water left for Jim. He was about to yell something to that effect when he froze at the sight of a 9mm and holster amongst the dirty clothes by the bathroom door.
Perfectly silent, Jim took out his own weapon and crept into the bathroom, his senses reporting that this was the only heartbeat besides his own in the apartment. Had the man attacked Blair and stopped to shower away any evidence, thinking Jim wasn't due back yet? What crazy kind of killer did that?
He yanked the shower curtain back, and the intruder jumped in surprise. "Whoa!"
"Don't move," Jim snarled.
"You must be Jim," the man started. "Blair's told me--"
"What did you do with him?" Jim demanded.
"Do?" The man had a slight drawl, not a regional accent, just mulling over his words as he spoke them. "Look, I think there's been some mistake--"
"You've got that right," said Jim. "And you made it."
The man kept still, his hands in view, careful but not overly concerned about the gun pointed directly at the dog tags on his chest. "My ID's in my pants pocket over there. I'm Daniel, Blair's brother."
"You're lying. Sandburg's an only child."
"Yes, he is," Daniel agreed. "I'm still his brother. There's a photo album out on his bed; you can check it if you don't believe me."
Jim took a step back, planting his foot on Daniel's gun. "You first."
Daniel reached for his glasses on the bathroom counter but, seeing how Jim's hands tightened on the gun when Daniel moved without permission, Daniel didn't attempt to reach behind Jim to get a towel. Nude and dripping, he walked gracefully and unembarrassed to Blair's room, with Jim's gun making itself at home between his shoulder blades.
There was no body on the floor. Jim let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The photo album was open to two old pictures taken in front of police tape and a sign that read "Science Fair -- Closed," one of a boy with a huge afro, the other of a young teen with unkempt blonde hair and glasses, both wearing delighted, mischievous grins.
Jim stared at the picture for a long moment, then back to the beautiful man whose hands-on-head pose seemed to serve more to accentuate his body than to render him defenseless. They were definitely the same person, but Daniel and Blair looked nothing like siblings, either in the past or the present.
"Sooo," Daniel drawled, and Jim reddened as he realized he'd been staring, "are you going to shoot me, or can I put my hands down now?"
Jim holstered his weapon and Daniel relaxed a little more. "Sandburg never mentioned a brother."
"Yeah, he hates it when people criticize Naomi. The guys she slept with, the things she did … I'm guessing he never told you how many times she was declared an unfit mother and lost custody of him. He was placed with the same foster family as me, off and on, for maybe four years. Can I go put some clothes on, or will that ruin this whole Army Ranger thing you've got going here?" At Jim's nod, Daniel walked back to the bathroom, toweled off, and put his pants on, considerately leaving his gun where it lay on his shirt. "So," he said, heading for the fridge. "You're really cute for a Sentinel, anyone ever tell you that?"
The bottom dropped out of Jim's stomach. "What did you just say?"
"I said you're cute," said Daniel, pouring himself a glass of juice.
"No -- Sandburg told you I was a Sentinel?"
"Come on, Jim, it's pretty obvious. BJ's been chasing after Sentinels his whole life, running off on expeditions to search for them at the drop of a hat. All of a sudden he's living in the same place more than six months, with a cop, which screams 'tribal protector' if you know what you're looking for--"
"You're military, it doesn't stop him from hanging out with you," Jim had to point out.
Daniel grinned. "I work for the Air Force, but they'll be the first to tell you I'm not military. Relax, I'm not going to tell anyone." He drank a few swallows and licked his upper lip, a flash of pink tongue. "What's it like? I mean, can you say how you sense things differently, or is it like being colorblind, that you can't describe how it's different from normal because it's the only way you ever perceived the world?"
Christ, not another one. "Don't tell me I'm your holy grail too," he growled.
Daniel grinned. "Don't worry, Jim, I've got plenty of windmills to tilt at without borrowing Blair's."
Jim dialed up to verify Daniel's words, and smelled something that pricked his attention. Not fear … pheromones. He smiled to himself. Sometimes the senses were a good thing: he never had to worry if he was misreading signals. Daniel was coming through loud and clear. It was too bad Blair didn't feel the same way -- No, Jim amended, he knew Blair was attracted to him, but apparently not enough for Blair to 'invalidate his research'. Blair had made it clear that it was about friendship for him, nothing more, and Jim was sure as hell not going to waste time brooding over what he couldn't have. "I see things just like everyone else," he said, stepping closer to Daniel. "Just in more detail."
Daniel's eyes darkened. "Yeah?" he asked. He put down the glass and let Jim plant his hands on the counter on either side of Daniel's waist. "So what kind of detail are we talking about here? I mean does everything look like a pointillist painting to you, or do foreground and background both show up in perfect focus, or--"
"You talk too much," Jim growled, kissing Daniel hard enough to make his heart skip a beat. Daniel kissed back, his tongue dueling with Jim's. It had been years since Jim had been with a man, since long before the senses had reemerged, and all five were starved for this. He broke off the kiss with sudden urgency, needing more.
Daniel had a wonderful chest, it tasted even better than it looked, sweet, hard nipples, warm, lean muscle, and the most beautiful keening issued from Daniel's throat as Jim worshipped Daniel's body with his mouth. When he stood to kiss Daniel breathless again, the younger man asked, "So is this like a Sentinel talent or what?"
"No," Jim growled, grinding his erection against Daniel's hip. "I'm just this good."
Daniel kissed his way across Jim's cheek, down to his throat, the moist sounds even more arousing than the wet warmth of his lips. The kisses were light and teasing, and Jim found himself dialing up to sense them better, carding his fingers through Daniel's long, sandy-blond hair. This hair was meant for fucking, Jim decided, It's too perfect for gripping. He had to fight the urge to pull Daniel down to service his cock, and forced himself to let go of Daniel's hair so he could pull his shirt off and get his pants out of the way of Daniel's exploration.
There were distinct advantages to fucking someone who knew he was a Sentinel. Daniel was a fast learner, turning the experience into a feast for Jim's senses, making soft little noises, kissing and nibbling so gently that Jim had no choice but to dial up, open himself even more to the sensations, and when Daniel swirled his tongue around one of Jim's nipples it felt more intense than a blow job. Daniel kissed a trail down to Jim's cock and pulled a condom out of his back pocket, rolling it onto Jim's erection before swallowing Jim whole.
Jim howled and tried to thrust up, but Daniel held Jim's hips still and chuckled, humming happily as he licked his way up and down Jim's cock and swirled his tongue around the head before plunging down again. Then he pulled off of Jim's cock with a cheerful slurp and said, "Hold very, very still, Jim."
Jim barely had time to wonder what Daniel was planning before a soft, delicate puff of air shivered across his balls, followed by a tongue delicately tracing letters in some unknown language, and then another cold puff of air. Daniel's hand slid behind his balls, cradling them as he worked, and Jim dialed up as high as he could while Daniel laved his balls and stroked the sweet spot behind them. He wasn't sure how much of this subtle torture he could take, unable to thrust, no sensation on his aching cock, just this shock of warm and cool driving him insane. "Daniel…" he warned, trying to make it clear in his tone that he knew a dozen ways to kill a man and would try them all out if Daniel didn't let him come right now, right fucking now--
And then Daniel deep-throated him again, swallowing, his throat massaging Jim's cock, and that was it, that was all she wrote. Jim screamed and swore and pumped helplessly, coming and coming and coming as Daniel's tongue urged him to come even harder.
Jim slumped against the counter, and Daniel stood up and grinned. "You have no idea how badly I needed that," said Daniel.
"How badly you needed that?" Jim echoed, but he knew what Daniel meant. Working in the military, Daniel was probably deep in the closet. "Hey, glad I could help," he teased, "Anytime." He stripped off the condom, aware that Daniel was still leaking pheromones all over the place, but knowing with his heightened senses, even dialed down, there was no way he could tolerate the flavor of latex to return the favor. "You know, there's a perfectly good bed upstairs…"
"Reeeally?" said Daniel, his voice smoky and eager.
Jim grinned. "Smartass." He swatted Daniel's butt playfully and the younger man yelped and raced upstairs, laughing. Jim followed him, his grin widening as he watched Daniel wriggle out of his pants and toss them onto the guard rail, followed by his boxers, which sailed down the stairs. Were those two raised in a barn, that they both felt the need to turn a perfectly clean loft into a disaster area in less than twenty seconds?
This train of thought derailed abruptly, though, at the sight of Daniel nude and glorious in the morning glow from the skylight. The man was completely comfortable with his body, although a certain sizable portion of his anatomy was looking quite uncomfortable at the moment. Jim stole a hungry kiss and reached into a drawer for lube and another condom.
"On your back," Jim ordered, and Daniel gave him an appraising look and obeyed, lying back on the bed. Jim knelt above him and rolled the condom onto Daniel's cock, then rose to crouch above Daniel. He squeezed some lube onto his fingers, spread it where he needed it, and then slowly lowered himself onto Daniel's cock.
Oh yeah, it had been way too long since he'd gotten fucked. Daniel's cock hurt going in, hurt worse coming out, but Jim kept moving up and down, nice and slow, until he stretched and welcomed Daniel inside him. The strain was making his thighs ache, and Jim grabbed Daniel's hands for balance, rocking up and down on his heels as Daniel started to toss that gorgeous, damp hair back and forth, muttering, "So tight, fuck, don't stop…"
Jim chuckled and arched his back so the next thrust hit his prostate straight on, the shock of it making his body thrum with pleasure as he fucked himself up and down on Daniel's cock. Daniel reached out and started tracing patterns on Jim's chest and belly, teasing, distracting, and then his left hand reached to jack Jim's reawakened erection while the right continued to play along his skin. Jim dialed up to feel it better just as Daniel thrust up to pound his prostate again.
Jim yelled, urgently fucking himself harder and harder on the cock that swelled inside him, and then Daniel grabbed his hips and hurled them both sideways, rolling on top to fuck him, his face tight and urgent with need, his eyes clenched shut. Jim had the feeling it wasn't Jim that Daniel saw in his mind's eye at that moment, but it didn't matter, because Daniel was coming, hot pulses quivering inside him. He pumped Jim's cock once, twice, and Jim's cock spilled hot seed over Daniel's hand. Daniel collapsed, rolling to the side with his legs tangled with Jim's and his arm pinned under Jim's shoulder, but he didn't complain about it, which was good, because Jim didn't think he could move right now.
The phone rang, and Daniel mumbled, "Mmph. Don't answer that."
The answering machine picked up, and Blair's voice called out, "Jim? You asleep? Listen, I forgot to leave you a note when I left this morning. An old friend of mine is in town; I told him he could stay over. He's a great guy, you'll love him." Jim snorted at that. "Anyway, I'm hoping the Emerson case isn't wearing you out too badly. I know it's got you bent out of shape, but we're going to catch the bastard, don't worry. I'm cooking dinner tonight, okay?" A long pause, and a sigh. "Okay, I'll let you sleep. Talk to you later, big guy."
Daniel had watched Jim's face through all this, and now he beat his head repeatedly against the pillow. "Oh crap, Blair's going to kill me," Daniel groaned. "Why haven't you told him you're in love with him?"
"It's not that simple," said Jim defensively. "I'm a cop; even our friends at the station wouldn't really be comfortable with it. With us. When you figure in harassment, backup being late … It's my whole life on the line here."
"Then the choice should be easy," Daniel's voice turned deceptively mild.
"Look, he's never even given me the smallest sign--"
"And he's never going to. After my parents died, I was sent to my grandfather, who left me with a bunch of right-wing, Neanderthal foster families while he went off chasing his dreams, and even when he gave up, those dreams were still more important than me. Blair got the same crap from Naomi growing up, Jim. He's never going to offer you anything, never going to ask anything of you, because he knows your life, your comfort zone, is more important to you than he is. He's never going to ask, Jim. He's waiting for you to tell him. You have to tell him before he wakes up and realizes he can't put his life on hold forever, waiting for something that's never going to happen."
Jim shook his head. "I can't. I can't."
Daniel sat up and scrubbed his hands through his hair. "Oh boy. Look, this is going to turn into one huge unholy mess. I should get out of here before it gets any worse. Tell Blair I had to run, and I'll see him next time I have shore leave, okay?" He followed the trail of clothing downstairs, muttering and swearing as his search for his clothes mapped the loft. Jim just lay there, thoughts of Blair leaving this way one day soon curdling his warm afterglow. Then the front door snicked shut behind Daniel, and Jim was left debating what in God's name he was going to do about his partner.
He was still lying there when Blair came home. "Jim, you there?" Blair called. "Oh man, you would not believe the day I had. Edwards is going to burn in the ninth circle of hell, or which is the one for traitors and thieves? Aw, that's going to drive me crazy; I'll have to dig out my Dante or I'll never sleep tonight. Anyway, she's decided to reallocate the Steinhardt grants, which means--" He broke off as Jim came down the stairs, tying a bathrobe around himself. "Jim, you look like hell, man, what happened to you?"
End.