Blair raised his head and looked over his shoulder at his roommate. "Jim," he asked, "is that your finger in my ass?"

"Why, yes," answered Jim. "Yes, it is. I didn't think you'd mind. Do you?"

"No, not exactly, but it would have been nice if you'd asked."

"I'm a sentinel. I don't have to ask."

"Ask anyway."

"Well, can I have my finger in your ass?" When Blair didn't answer, he said, "What about two fingers?"

Blair shifted slightly on the bed and put his head down on his folded arms. "Well, hell, why not just put your cock in there, while you're at it?"

"Are you being facetious, or are you serious?"

"Jim, I never joke about fucking."

"Good." Jim slipped another finger inside, then blinked as Blair yelped and twisted away.

"Careful, dammit! Didn't your mother teach you to use lube?"

"Um, no, actually, but my drill sergeant did." Jim sat back on his heels, his head tilted to one side.

"Does my ass look like the goddamn US Army to you?"

"Sandburg, that made no sense."

"It's not supposed to. Nightstand drawer."

Jim rummaged around in the drawer. "Sandburg?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you have birth control pills in here?"

"Those are Naomi's."

"Why do you have *Naomi's*...I don't want to know, do I?"

"No, probably not. It involves--"

"I said I didn't want to know." Jim found the small bottle of Astroglide and shook it. "Um...you're almost out of lube."

"Then use Crisco, but don't you put anything in my ass that isn't well-greased."

"We don't own any Crisco." Jim lubed his fingers and slid them back inside of his partner. Blair yelped again, and pushed back against them. Jim kissed the small of his back and inhaled the smell of his skin.

"What is with you and Drakkar Noir, anyway?"

"I don't wear that much, Jim."

"Only asshole high school jocks who think they're players wear Drakkar Noir."

"Well, I was an asshole high school jock and never grew out of it."

"Figures." Jim withdrew his fingers and reached for a condom. He rolled it on and carefully used the rest of the Astroglide on his hard cock. "Turn over, Sandburg."

Blair obliged, hooking his legs over Jim's shoulders.

"So," said Jim, as he eased into Blair, "you were an asshole jock?"

"Um," said Blair, intelligently. "Yeah. Basketball. Track. Used to make the waterboy--AH! Do that again!"

Jim obliged, moving more quickly in and out of his partner's body. Blair knotted his hands in the sheets.

"Made the waterboy suck me off...not that he minded...lovely mouth...let him fuck me in the shower...fucked the captain of the football team in the shower...and the chess team...and half the fucking astronomy club...including the girls...and I made freshmen give me their lunch money. So. Jock *asshole.*"

Jim stopped and looked down at him. "Liar."

"Only about the lunch money. Dammit, Jim, move."

Jim bent his head and kissed Blair, savoring peppermint and tooth enamel. "Yeah, I think your asshole got a good workout in high school."

"I bet yours got one in the Army."

"Fucking-A," said Jim, and kissed him again.

Blair slid his legs down and locked them around Jim's waist. "Drill sergeants," he said. "And *privates.*"

"I was an *officer,*" said Jim. "I never fucked a private. A few second lieutenants, though....and one three-star general."

"Did you make him wear his uniform?"

"Just his boots."

"You're one sick motherfucker, Jim."

"You are *male,* right? I mean, you're not anyone's *mother,* are you? Those aren't really your pills?"

"Do you think my mother has a fucking cock?"

"Good point." Jim slipped one hand between their bodies and began to stroke Blair's cock. Blair gasped and braced himself against the bed, tightening his legs, jerking his hips in time with the movement of Jim's hand. His orgasm gripped him, washed him away, his come coating Jim's hand and chest.

Silently, Jim followed him over the edge, shuddering violently. They lay curled together, listening to the harsh sound of breathing.

After a few minutes, Jim spoke. "Sandburg? No more Drakkar Noir."

"Why not?"

"Cuz I don't want a boyfriend who thinks he's a player."

"You have to give up Sloppy Joes, then."

"Why?"

"Cuz I don't want a boyfriend covered in Manwich sauce. It's gross."

"Hmph. OK. But you have to watch Audrey Hepburn movies with me."

Blair snickered into Jim's shoulder. "Marriage license? Did you say marriage license?"

"I'll kick your ass, Sandburg, Chief, Darwin, Blair, whatever your name is."

Blair looked up at his partner, and grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way, man."

all material on these pages copyright laura j. valentine, except where otherwise noted. email: jacquez+@dementia.org