Sometimes Blair is my Blessed Protector.

I woke up this morning with him curled around me, his body a shield between
me and the world. It was the final, physical manifestation of what we
were, I think: he's been shielding me in a thousand ways since the day
he met me.

It took my mother to break down the last barrier between us. She claimed
sentinels and guides were meant to be mated pairs. She wanted me to
be with Megan. I don't think she was expecting...well, Blair and me.
So we were supposed to be a mated pair? Very well, we would be a mated
pair. No problem, please leave, we've got to figure out this sex thing,
see you later.

It's not strictly true that Blair's the only guide I've had, but the
other--Incacha--was male, too. Makes me wonder if my senses were the
only things I was repressing, though I don't remember ever wanting to
have sex with Incacha. But then, he was only my guide for a year and
a half, and Blair's been with me almost five, now.

And it's not like the sex last night was all that wonderful. It was
mostly discussion and fumbling and some discovery. He's good at giving
head and hates bottoming; I'd never tried either. He prefers female
partners but lost his virginity at fifteen with a boy a year younger;
I was sixteen, she was a month older. He loves being bitten hard enough
to mark; I prefer being marked by sucking. Neither of us lasted very
long or were up for a second round. He's more fastidious about cleaning
up than I am, because he has more body hair.

But I woke up safe and protected and warm, with his heart beating against
my back. We have years to figure out everything--I know he meant it
when he said he wouldn't leave. So we're together, now, and it feels
both wrong and right. The wrongness, I'm sure, will fade.

Eventually, he woke up as well, and I felt him smile into my shoulderblade.
"Morning, Jim."

"Morning, Blair."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah. Breakfast?"

"Sex first?"

"Jesus, James..." He kissed my back, his mouth warm and wet against
my skin. "I'm not as young as I used to be," he said, his hand sliding
over my hip and brushing against my cock. "You trying to kill me?"

"No," I answered. "I was thinking of killing myself. Always wanted
to die happy."

"Jackass," he said, fondly, and wrapped his hand around me.

"Blair?"

"Mmm?"

"Will you..."

He waited for me to complete the thought, and then when I didn't, said
"Will I what?"

"I want to try..."

He waited again, and again I didn't finish the thought. "Try what, Jim?"

Time for a slight change of topic. "Why don't you like bottoming?"

He shrugged. "Just never did. Some people do, some don't."

"If I--I don't know--um. What if *I* don't like it? Then what?"

"Jim, if there's no penetration involved in this relationship, then there's
no penetration involved in this relationship. It's not like...well,
I admit I love it, but it's not all there is. You don't want to, we
won't. Simple."

"What if I want to?"

"Then we can."

"But what if I don't like it?"

"Then we stop and don't do it again."

"You don't mind?"

"Look, Jim, I'm not going to let *you* fuck *me*, because I really am
*not* into it. We are talking *serious* non-enjoyment. So how on earth
could I get upset if *you* don't want to *be* fucked?"

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh. Now, you were the one who suggested sex a few minutes ago.
Still interested?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

His hand, which had been wrapped around my cock, began to move, gently,
teasingly, and I pressed back against him and lost myself in sex with
Blair. My Blessed Protector, shielding me as he always did.



### The End ###

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