Hypothesis?

February 1997


First in the "The Scientific Method" series

DISCLAIMER : This story refers to characters and concepts from the television show "The Sentinel," which do no belong to me. No profit has been made from the writing of this story. It was created expressly for fans of "The Sentinel" who can't get enough romantic fanfic about Jim and Blair.

Warning : Explicit m/m sex

Jim Ellison set down his empty mug and contemplated ordering another beer. Won't do any good, he decided. He'd been trying to get drunk all evening, but hadn't even managed a slight buzz.

He sighed. Guess I oughta go home now. And then, Blair's gonna be mad.

Okay, Ellison, he thought. You've got to make a decision. You can't go on like this, hiding out in a bar every evening after work, afraid to go home and face your roommate. No, afraid that Blair would read his secret in his face! Afraid the kid would be disgusted when he found out.

He stood and pulled on his leather jacket, ignoring his companion's bewilderment. Sex with a stranger wasn't what he really wanted right now. He'd planned on losing himself in an anonymous body tonight, burying his pain in pure sensation. He'd picked up the blond with exactly that in mind, but now he just wasn't interested.

Flipping down a twenty to cover the last round of drinks, he turned away silently and wove his way though the noisy crowd to the door.

I'll tell Blair he's got to move out, he told himself as he slipped behind the wheel of the truck. I'll tell him tonight before I lose the courage.

Jim's resolution started to fail as he climbed the stairs. By the time he got to the door, his heart was thundering in his chest and he'd come up with a dozen reasons to put off the confrontation.

He stopped with his hand on the door knob. Maybe Sandburg wasn't home. Maybe he was out with his latest girlfriend. Maybe this could all be put off to another day. Maybe... maybe...

No, no such luck. The faint sound of sitar music floated under the door along with the fragrance of incense.

He almost turned around and headed back to the street. Almost.

Jim stepped inside his home with a feeling of dread. I've gotta get this over with, he thought. Then maybe my life can go back to normal.

The lights were low. Most of the illumination came from a dozen or so burning candles, scattered around the living room. Sandburg sat bare-footed in the middle of the floor, legs folded into the lotus position, hands on knees, back straight, eyes closed. He appeared completely oblivious to his roommate's entry.

Jim stopped as though he had run into a brick wall. His breath hissed in the back of his throat. God, but he's beautiful! the older man thought. Why the hell does the kid have to be straight?!!

He stood and drank in the sight before him. As long as Blair was lost in meditation, Jim could look his fill.

The young anthropologist was backlit by the dim glow of a lamp. It created a nimbus around his head, making the tips of the dark brown curls glow with an auburn tinge. From the front, his face was lit by the flickering candles. Light and shadow caressed the intelligent forehead, the sensual planes and contours of the exquisite face. Thick dark lashes caressed the golden cheeks, the sexy blue eyes closed in inward contemplation.

Jim licked his lips, drinking in the way the burgundy red knit shirt clung to the lithe young body, emphasizing the compact contours and supple muscles. Dark, curly chest hair peeked out of the unbuttoned neck opening.

His gaze continued downward. Tonight Blair was wearing the tight black jeans Jim liked so well. They molded to his legs like a second skin. The lotus posture stretched the material tight across groin, accentuating the fact that although Sandburg might be small in stature, he was very well endowed.

Ellison groaned silently as he felt his own groin stir. He'd wanted the gorgeous young man almost from the moment they'd met. At first, he'd sublimated it to irritation at Blair's brash behavior and buried it beneath the fears caused by his own out-of-control senses.

When his Guide had moved into the condo, Jim had found it a lot harder to submerge his desires. After it became obvious that Sandburg was not planning on leaving, he made his first pass. It had been fielded so neatly that Ellison still wasn't sure whether or not Blair had understood the invitation. Over the next year he had continued making passes, each more blatant than the last. Looking back, Jim was amazed at the deftness with which the young man had fended off the propositions, never actually acknowledging his friend's infatuation while making it clear he wasn't interested.

So far Jim had been able to control his urges. He'd managed to keep his touch light and friendly, his smile sincere and his behavior purely platonic. But there was nothing pure about his thoughts or his dreams. Night after night he woke drenched in sweat, his seed spent upon the sheets and an all-too-real memory of an impossible coupling. After, while he waited for the pounding of his heart to slow, he listened to the rhythmic breathing coming from the room below.

Then, last week he had come awake standing at Blair's bedroom door, with a painful erection and his body aflame with desire. It had taken every ounce of his willpower to turn around and walk back up the stairs. He'd sat in the dark, fantasized and masturbated until he achieved temporary physical relief, but every fiber in his body screamed for the real thing.

That's when he'd taken to frequenting the pick-up bars, trying each evening to find someone on whom to spend his lust before going home. It had worked for a few days. Then last night he'd awakened again to find himself standing outside his partner's room with a hard-on. This time he had been unable to force himself back upstairs. Instead, he'd stared through the half-open door, listening to the young man's heartbeat, taking in the light male musk coming from the room. Unconsciously he'd stroked his engorged penis to the rhythm of Sandburg's breathing, coming silently and explosively in the dark.

Jim pulled himself back to reality with a ragged gasp. This can't continue, he thought. If I don't get Sandburg outta here, I'm going to do something I'll regret the rest of my life.

He headed for the kitchen to get a beer to bolster his courage, ignoring the fact that he'd just spent the whole evening unsuccessfully trying to drink himself into oblivion.

There was a note stuck to the refrigerator door, with a big red "URGENT" written at the top. Jim pulled it off and read a message from Blair begging him to review his latest chapter of Sentinel research. At the bottom he'd written, "I need your opinion on this right away." The sentence had been underscored twice.

The binder was lying on the counter beside the refrigerator, the bottle opener directly on top. Jim chuckled to himself, thinking how well Blair knew his reactions. Suddenly he sobered, wondering if the anthropologist might be more aware of Jim's feelings than he'd thought.

He opened his beer, picked up the binder and took himself into the living room to read. If he was going to kick the kid out tonight, then the least he could do was help with this last bit of research. Besides, this would probably be his last chance to take in the young man's beauty unobserved.

Jim chose to sit on the sofa, so that he could steal glances at Blair's meditating profile whenever he looked up from reading. He turned up the table lamp and flipped the binder open. Half-heartedly he began to scan the text, only to find himself rapidly immersed in the detailed observations of "Sentinel/Guide Reciprocity." He was fascinated with the detailed observations and evaluations. The conclusions were carefully drawn-out and backed up by research references. Somehow Sandburg had managed to remain objective even when analyzing his own actions and reactions.

Jim quickly skimmed through the pages, stopping to read in detail only when something special caught his eye. Blair had covered everything from converging food preferences to the almost telepathic ability of the Guide to sense his Sentinel's needs. The last section was subtitled, "Sexual Reciprocity."

He had to look at Blair then, but the Guide was still silently sitting on the floor, face calm and innocent, mind centered internally.

Jim began to read carefully, half fearful of what he would find, but with a secret hope buried so deeply he was not even conscious of it. Everything was written down, from the sideways looks Jim had started to give the kid before he'd moved in, to the passes afterwards, including the very first one. It appeared that Blair had always been aware of Jim's interest, but had chosen to ignore it rather than cause a confrontation with his friend.

A true scientist, Blair had analyzed his own reactions with great detail. There was a quote from the anthropologist's personal diary, obviously written after Jim's first overture. In it Blair had pointed out that he should have realized from the beginning that Jim was bi, since all his research showed it to be a common Sentinel characteristic. He hadn't been offended by the proposition, only saddened that he couldn't return the feeling.

Jim sighed, as his own reasoning on the matter was confirmed. Blair was straight and so a sexual liaison when his friend had not interested him.

Reading further, Jim was surprised at how accurately Blair had gauged his increasing infatuation. Jim was shocked to discover that Blair had even been aware of his nighttime fantasies and wet dreams.

Turning the page, he found a detailed record of Blair's own response to Jim. Unexpectedly, Jim found himself reading of an unanticipated change in his partner's sentiments. He was fascinated to read how Blair's indifference to Jim's sexuality had slowly evolved into a intimate awareness of the other man, the awareness then slowly progressing into a half-understood reciprocal desire. The last sentence in the binder was a question: The reciprocity appears to be genetic in nature. If so, where does our relationship go from here?

Jim looked up from his reading, seeking an answer in his Guide's face. Blair was no longer sitting in front of him. Without Jim's being aware of it, he had risen from the floor and was now perched on the arm of the sofa beside him, drinking a beer and staring off into the distance. Despite the calm demeanor, the young man's heart was racing.

"Blair?" Jim asked tentatively.

Blair pulled his attention away from the spot on the wall he had been contemplating and looked directly into Jim's blue-grey eyes. A blush spread across his cheeks, and he quickly looked away. "Uh, what do you think?" his voice fell until it was barely audible.

"Think?" Jim repeated, unable to organize his thoughts.

Blair twisted the beer bottle in his hands, nervously trying to figure out what to say next. Jim found the awkwardness in his normally voluble Guide to be quite endearing.

He reached over and pried one of the fidgety hands away from the bottle and took it in his own. Lightly he caressed the tense fingers and wrist, willing the hand to relax.

Finally he found the courage to speak the question out loud, terrified that he had misinterpreted the meaning of the binder's contents, but even more terrified that if he didn't take advantage of this moment, it would never come again.

"Are you offering...?" He couldn't complete the sentence, but he knew from the way Blair's fingers twitched that he'd understood.

As the silent moments passed, Jim drew the captive hand to his mouth and began to kiss the palm gently. He trailed feather kisses up to the wrist, then began to alternately kiss and lick the throbbing pulse. Immersed in the taste and texture of the sensitive skin, he was still aware of the sudden intake of breath beside him. Without ceasing the tongue action, he tilted his head upward so that he was looking into the wide, scared eyes. Keeping eye contact, he continued to kiss and lick his way up the arm.

"Uh... I've... I've never... done... uh... done this... before." Blair's voice was husky, fear and desire warring with each other. "I've... never... been... with a man..."

"Hush," Jim said tugging him forward into his arms. "For this, I'll be the guide."

The bottle fell from Blair's nerveless fingers as his Sentinel wrapped his arms around him and leaned in for a first kiss.

Despite the initial chastity of the kiss, Jim felt an almost electric current run between their lips, spreading out and radiating through every cell of his body. The world seemed to shimmer, then settle into brilliant clarity. Every sense was heightened to another level. The sensation was vaguely familiar... Laura, he thought. Hmmm, pheromones...

Blair's body was stiff with tension. Jim held himself in check with an effort of will. He continued the gentle seduction despite the fact that his entire being urged him to devour the man in his arms. He tasted and teased the closed lips with his tongue, ran his fingers through the springy curls, and massaged/caressed the knotted muscles of Blair's back.

With a sigh the young man relaxed into the embrace. His lips parted beneath Jim's, while his arms crept around the other man's neck. The sudden capitulation sent a shock of pleasure through Jim's system.

Once permitted entry, he intimately explored the young man's mouth as he'd only dreamed of doing for the past year. The smooth, wet warmth of the interior -- the velvet of the tongue -- the taste of beer over a flavour that was uniquely his Guide's... On the point of zoning on the rich sensations, Jim was brought back to reality by the feel of Blair's tongue as he returned the kiss and began to explore his partner's mouth in his own turn.

As the kiss deepened, Jim shifted backwards on the sofa so that he was half-reclining with the young man draped across his chest. The caresses gained purpose as they worked Blair's shirt slowly up his torso. Jim explored the exposed skin with his fingertips, memorizing the contours of the lithe, compact body beneath his hands. Blair shifted slightly, and Jim used the momentary interruption to their embrace to pull his shirt the rest of the way off. Then he rolled sideways, bringing their legs together and pinning the Guide between himself and the back of the sofa.

"You're one hell of a kisser, Sandburg," he purred, as he began to feather kisses down the cords of the tantalizing neck.

"It's not all that different... umm... except for the texture... umm... of your skin and ... ah..." The words trailed away into laboured breathing as Jim traced his collar bone, then licked his way down to one of the small, puckered nipples hiding in the dark chest hair. Jim placed his mouth over the tiny nub and swirled his tongue around the sensitive tip; Blair gave a shuddering gasp and began to tug Jim's own shirt out of his jeans.

Jim hampered Blair's efforts to strip him of his shirt by clinging tenaciously to first one nipple then the other, alternating kisses with flicks of the tongue. As he switched from one side to the other, taking the rosy brown nub between his teeth to worry teasingly, he felt the buttons of his shirt rip loose as Blair tugged it sharply.

He released his hold long enough to strip off the torn shirt. He felt Sandburg's hands slide down his ribs to his waist and start to unclasp his belt.

Dropping the shirt on the floor, he caught Blair's hands and pulled them above his head. "Not so fast, Love," he breathed into the tumbled curls as he completely covered the smaller man with his body. "I've waited for this so long, I want to make it last." If I can after waiting all this time, he thought.

They lay unmoving for a long moment in time. Jim savoured the feeling of the skin-to-skin contact along their torsos and arms, a titillating contrast to the rough jeans material separating their groins. Releasing his grip on Blair's wrists, he clasped their hands together and began to nibble at Blair's ear, delicately pulling on the earring hoops and sucking on the lobe. As the larger man's weight pushed his lover's legs apart, he began to grind his groin slowly and sensuously against the warding fabric.

"Oh, lord, Jim. This feels so weird!"

Ellison froze in place. "Do you want me to stop?" Don't do this to me, Chief. If you say 'yes,' I'll do my damnedest to comply... but it will kill me if you do. I swear it will.

"Noo...oo... I want this. I do. Only..." He slid his hands along the big man's arms, bringing them to rest on the broad, chiseled shoulders. "...only I'm just not used to not knowing what I'm doing." He began to run his hands down the broad back, unconsciously emphasizing his words with caresses. "I was so fixated on figuring how I was going to let you know I was willing that I didn't think to do any research on the mechanics of it." He laughed self-consciously. "You must think I'm really dumb."

"Oh, no, Chief. Not at all." He gazed deeply into the smoky sapphire eyes. "I'm kinda enjoying a non-talkative Blair Sandburg." He paused to bestow a kiss upon the tempting sensuous lips. "Your instincts are working just fine," he added as the roving hands slipped inside the back of his pants and began to fondle his buttocks. Another kiss. "Just follow my lead."

He levered himself up so that his weight no longer pressed the young man down. "Isn't it time we got rid of these encumbrances?" He slid one foot to the floor so that he was half-crouched above his Guide. "Wanna finish the job you started?"

Blair reached up with an mischievous smile and finished unbuckling the belt. Then he drew it slowly through the loops so that the sliding of leather became another caress. Jim groaned out loud. He hadn't believed he could get any harder, but the teasing hands caused him to stiffen even more as Blair proceeded to unzip his jeans one inch at a time, touching and rubbing as he went.

Blair started to pull the opened trousers and jockeys down around Jim's hips, but the Sentinel's senses were in overload, and he could stand the delicious torment no longer. Jim surged to his feet and urgently divested himself of the clothing, kicking off his shoes and socks in a frenzy.

When Blair sat up and started to undo his own pants, Jim dropped down to the sofa and stopped him. "I want to do this," he breathed huskily. "I've wanted to do this for ages..." He pushed the young man back into a reclining position and tugged the zipper down with trembling fingers, releasing the engorged penis. Blair arched his back and raised his hips so that Jim could pull the pants down about his knees.

And then Jim could wait no longer. "Gawd, Imp, you're beautiful!" he husked and threw himself down on the young man. Wrapping his arms about the slender body and locking his mouth against Sandburg's, he began to grind their groins together in a fever of desire. Without any intervening clothing, the sensation of hard hot cock against cock was more than he could stand. He exploded between them, and stars danced before his eyes.

He returned to his full senses almost immediately and realized that Blair had not yet come. Rapidly he slid down the slender body trailing licks and kisses until he reached the treasure he was seeking rising from the thatch of curly pubic hair. He ran his tongue up and down the red hot shaft, tasting his own cum covering Blair's musky arousal. Blair bucked and thrust his hips upward. "Now! Now!

The Sentinel took his Guide into his mouth. He had only moments to taste and suck before Blair came, his orgasm matching Jim's own earlier climax.

Afterwards they lay on the sofa, blissfully satiated. Blair was now on top, his head cradled on Jim's chest. Jim pulled down the afghan from the back of the sofa as their sweaty bodies began to cool. He slid his fingers into Blair's hair and massaged his scalp until he heard the rhythm of breathing turn into sleep.

Jim stared at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep himself. He had what he wanted, didn't he? Blair's naked beauty had been every bit as glorious as he'd dreamed. His pheromones had driven Jim's Sentinel senses wild. The sex had been the hottest he'd ever experienced, even though they'd done little more than kiss and engage in body friction. So, why did he feel something was lacking?

He stared down at the sleeping face, questioning. Images flashed before his mind's eye -- Sandburg, when they'd met, high on adrenaline and fear after saving Jim's life from the truck -- Sandburg, the Guide, his soothing voice and calm good sense grounding Jim and keeping him from losing control -- Sandburg, the scampish tease, spewing forth obfuscations and embellishments -- Professor Sandburg, reading glasses sliding down his nose as he graded mountains of papers -- Blair Sandburg, Naomi's vibrant, expressive, out-going son -- Chief, his friend and confidant, imp and lover.

Lover. Lover? That was it! Love! Blair's thesis spoke of genetics and fate. It classified their passion as nothing more than lust, one body craving another.

Jim brushed a kiss across the dark curls. Yes, he wanted Blair. But he wanted more than just the gorgeous physical package. He wanted his Guide's passion for life, his caring nature, his valiant heart. He wanted Blair's love...

Silently he made a vow. Not only would he teach his beloved the intricacies of man-to-man sex, but he would guide him to the discovery of his own heart. He would teach the imp to love him just as much as he now loved.

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