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The Rig: Epilogue (yeah, I know - how original)
by Chrys and BethB
Blair walked slowly through the quiet loft, his eyes downcast as he considered what he was about to do. He'd been planning it for days, yearning for it. Now that it was upon him, he was having second thoughts.
Was it fair of him, to do this? They had both nearly died out there on that oil rig, but that didn't explain the need he felt. It was something else that had triggered the desire, prompted the plan. He needed this more than he'd ever needed anything before. But still. Standing in the doorway to his room, he gazed upward toward Jim's empty bed.
Was it fair for him to use his Sentinel's image, the frozen picture of Jim's naked body, to trigger his own desires?
Sighing, Blair stopped thinking and allowed himself to feel. Once he did that, the choice was plain. No, he corrected himself. There was no choice, not really.
Swallowing hard as Jim's form rose before his eyes, he moved forward, stripping leisurely as he made his way to his bed. The futon was clear for once, and finally naked, he sank down upon it, his cock already hard as he lay back. His eyes drifting closed, he stroked himself lightly as he savored the memory.
*Jim stood in the shower door, his skin pink and flushed from the heat of the shower that had rinsed the crude oil from his body. Blair had insisted on a second scrub, not knowing what the oil and its impurities would do to the Sentinel. Jim had grumbled, but done as his Guide wanted. Now he was clean, and as Blair watched, dry-mouthed, a bead of water slipped over his partner's skin, running unheeded down the corded neck, to slow as it reached the hard planes of the Sentinel's chest.*
Blair gasped, his hand tightening and moving faster on his erection as his other hand moved to tweak his nipples gently. His hips thrust lazily into the air, meeting his grip, and he panted lightly as his mind's eye followed that tempting bead of water.
*Jim bent slightly, tucking the towel around his waist, and the water droplet moved faster, slipping lower to the light vee of hair that dusted Jim's abdomen. Blair's eyes followed it, his tongue coming out, almost unnoticed, to moisten his lips as he traced its path. He almost spoke, then jerked, surprised, as the door opened.*
Close to the edge, Blair skipped over the words spoken as the helicopter pilot held them at gunpoint, his hands moving over his body as he reached the final image, the one that haunted his dreams. His breath ragged, he saw it again.
*Nonchalantly, Jim dropped his towel at Maggie's demand, and despite the danger of their situation, Blair's eyes were drawn to the sight. He saw Jim's form, his perfectly shaped penis and heavy balls, and he ached to touch them. He burned, not from fear, but from lust.*
One hand moving on his cock, Blair's other hand moved behind him, a finger pressing lightly upon his opening. He came hard, a moan of need and love on his lips.
Three floors below, the Sentinel heard his name called
**********
Passion lends a glow to memory's eye
Beaded water moves as muscle ripples beneath skin
pink from heat and touch
I swallow hard, my attempt to look away impossible,
my desire equally so
One bead runs down your neck, tracing the lines of hard chest,
detouring around a nipple before falling lower
We are interrupted
Death stalks us again, and I cannot help but steal one last look,
to store away for forever
And passion lends a glow to memory's eye
