Sweetcheeks V: Butch

Debra Fran Baker

dfbaker@panix.com

 
 

"I'm glad you talked Miss Melly out of those hoopskirts." Blair ran a finger around the wing collar of his tuxedo. Twelve Oaks Gallery was full of men and women in various types of formal dress, nibbling on canapes and drinking mint juleps.

"It was *not* easy, sweetie. She'd been looking forward to that for simply *months*." Jim himself was wearing the same tuxedo he'd worn as Cop of the Year ("Wear a *rental*? Please!" Which was why Blair himself now owned a monkey suit.) He was also wearing eyeliner, a touch of mascara and his pinky nails were painted dark blue to match his tie and vest. Blair could not keep his eyes off of him.

"Jimmy! You look *fabulous*, girl." Lady Eve sashayed up to them, resplendent in a gold lame evening gown. "Especially with this *adorable* man on your arm." He sighed dramatically. "I wish I knew where I could find one like *him*."

"He's one of kind, Evie, and I'm *not* sharing." Evie pouted, grinned and moved away with a little wave. Timothy and Lisa Martin appeared in his wake, shaking their heads over their silver julep cups.

"I'll never get used to that one." Timothy gestured to the large and shiny figure meandering around the crowd. Then he smiled at Jim. "This dance really was a great idea. Look at the girls. They're really enjoying themselves. Prison musta been hell for 'em."

Blair looked towards the corner of the gallery, where Freddie and Melvin were holding court. They were laughing and gesturing and holding hands. This dance was in their honor - a "welcome back after jail/grand reopening of the gallery" party. They'd only gotten six months for the kidnaping charge, since they made no threats, did not harm the kid and confessed right away. Speaking of the kid..."How is TJ?"

Lisa, who looked spare and elegant in her black sheathe, which complemented the classic lines of Timothy's tux, smiled. "He's just fine. He's having a sleepover at Zacky Thompson's. You know, Freddie actually offered to babysit tonight?"

Jim blinked. "*Tonight*?"

She nodded. "He *loves* to do it. Won't even charge us, and spoils him rotten at the same time. But this was his and Melly's big night."

"I've been meaning to ask you, Lisa..."

"Yes, Blair?"

"How come all of TJ's friends are named Zack?"

She shrugged. "I think it just happened. Half the girls in his class are named either Hunter or Emily."

The band, who had been on dinner break until that point, began to play. Timothy grinned and swept his wife up in his arms, barely giving her time to put their cups down.

Jim looked expectant, so Blair suppressed a sigh and extended his hand. Jim took it gracefully with a smile and allowed Blair to lead him on to the dance floor. At least he'd had experience leading someone taller than he, and Jim felt wonderful in his arms.

They glided around the dance floor to the music. He ignored the few stares they got from some of the Martins' friends as he guided Jim's graceful form. Jim made it easy.

Once he got with the waltz rhythm, Blair started looking at the other dancers. The Martins had been dancing together, but they'd split up to take turns with their co-owners. Timothy showed absolutely no self-consciousness dancing with Freddie, while Lisa and Melvin apparently decided to alternate leading.

There were no rules for the rest of the dancers...Evie was being dipped by someone in an equally spectacular red gown; Simon twirled the lady he'd been dating and for some reason, a very self conscious Rafe was awkwardly stepping with an equally embarrassed Henri, while Joel let Megan take over.

"What's with *those* two, Jim?"

"H and Rafe? They are *too* cute, aren't they? They lost a bet over *football* - can you *believe* they bet *against* the Giants? And the penalty was for them to dance together *here* at least *once*."

"They can't seem to decide whose going lead."

Jim grinned. "Normal rule - taller leads."

"Umm, Jim, in case you haven't noticed..."

They paused for a rather awkward twirl. Blair had to stretch on his toes.

"Ah, but you are so *butch*. It would be like...leading *Simon*."

Blair repressed another sigh. This time, Jim heard him. "Hon, what's wrong? I thought this party was *divine*."

"It *is*, and I love dancing with you. But..."

"Come on, Chief. Spit it out." For a moment, Blair thought he'd heard an echo...

"Ellison, sometimes I get tired of always...leading."

Jim suddenly stood still. Blair could hardly keep himself from crashing into him. "Blair...do you mean leading or *leading*?"

He bit his lip. "It's...it's just that...why do *you* get to have all the fun?"

Jim blinked. "I didn't...this is *not* the place to discuss this, dear, but, I just assumed..."

"Assumed what?" Blair made the effort to keep his voice down.

"You being so...well..."

"Butch? I'm only butch in *this* crowd. I mean, I'm no Lady Eve or Miss Melly, but I'm not Simon, either." Blair took Jim's arms again and began to dance once more.

Jim was silent for a while. Blair could feel him fingering the silver ring on his own hand. "I'm *sorry*, Blair. Sometimes, *I* can't see beyond the stereotypes, either."

"It's okay. I love you anyway."

"Love *you*, Sandburg."

**********************************

"I am *so* tired." Jim, clad only in white silk boxers, collapsed on the bed.

"That was some party. I think half of Stonewall Street was there. And half the precinct." Blair fell next to his lover and gathered him in his arms.

"Henri and Rafe turned out to be good dancers." Jim's eyes twinkled.

"Yeah...who'd have thought either could tango?"

"And you...you are *so* cuddly. Something about these *ratty* sweats of yours...ooh!"

Blair laughed. "I'm not letting you buy me silk pajamas, Jim."

"Not my butch Blair..."

Blair sat up. "Jim, we have to talk about that 'butch' thing."

Jim nodded and leaned against the new brass headboard.

"What is it, darlin'?"

"Everyone's been saying that about me since...since I took you to Purple last year. At least, everyone on Stonewall. I'm...I'm not."

"You, lover, are *you*. And you are *so* masculine, with that gorgeous voice and that *walk*."

"That's not what I mean." Blair pulled a pillow into his lap.

"I know. You aren't the *stereotype* of a macho man. That used to be *my* territory, and I was *so* glad to let *him* go. But everything about you says 'male'. I *can't* explain it, sweetheart, but it's why all the girls are drooling over you. Good thing I'm *armed*."

"But...okay. I just don't think of myself in those terms."

Jim smiled sweetly. "That's part of it, I think. You just don't *know*."

Blair had to smile back.

"But...there's also the 'leading' thing, Jim. Before...before there was *us*, I used..."

"You switched? I *can't* see you as a bottom."

Blair shrugged. "It never mattered much, but sometimes...but you like bottoming and you seem to think I belong..."

Jim looked at him, his chin quivering. "I'm sorry. I've been *so* selfish. I just never thought...oh, sweetheart!"

Blair crawled over to Jim and wrapped him in his arms. "You know just how to get around me, don't you? I should have told you this before, but I *was* having fun."

"You were?"

"Yeah. I were." He kissed Jim on top of his head. "You smell nice."

"I used your shampoo." Jim nuzzled his chest. "I love your fur *so* much."

"That feeeels good."

"Love me a little?"

"Love you a *lot*, silly man." Blair wiggled down the bed until their mouths were even, and captured Jim's pouting lips. Jim's hands began to roam under his sweatshirt, stroking his back and tweaking his nipples until Blair moaned.

In retaliation, Blair reached down to Jim's groin, where he met with a growing and hot erection, one which matched his.

"Ohhh, Blair honey, yeeeessss..."

Blair let go of Jim's lips and scooted down further so he could tongue Jim's nipples, something he *knew* made him crazy. "Yeah, Jim...oh, yeah..."

"B...babycakes, c..can't wait much longer..."

"Want...want more...?"

"W..want *you*...w..want to be inside *you*, Blair..."

Blair wanted to shout for joy, but he settled for a moan as he pulled away and got lube and condoms out of the drawer, and incidentally took off his sweats.

"You sure about this? You aren't teasing me?"

Jim, who had removed his shorts, was stroking himself. "N...never, Chief. Want that cute little..."

"It's *all* yours. You're in charge."

Blair crept back over to him, and carefully rolled a condom onto Jim's straining erection, after dropping a kiss on it. Then he covered it with lube. "It's been a long time for me."

"Longer for me...not since the army..."

"Riding a bicycle...here..." He handed Jim the bottle of lube and knelt on the bed facing away from him.

"Oh...you are so..." He felt Jim stroke his rear, and then spread his cheeks apart. Oh God, oh God, that was his *tongue*...Jim was *rimming* him...oh...Now...one finger...slight pain and then *in*..."Yes...oh..."

It was gone. Blair moaned...two fingers now. Oh, God, he was so gentle...so...oh...gone..now three...stretching...hurts soooo good....now...now...yes!

Blair braced himself on his elbows as that huge penis slowly, steadily pushed inside of him, stroking back and forth, deeper and deeper until finally he *knew* that length was entirely sheathed inside of him. Jim was inside of *him*, topping him.

"Blair?"

He was beyond words, beyond thought. He was *feelings*.

And he felt..,full...Jim was moving. Jim had his hands on Blair's arousal and Jim was moving and then he hit *it* and a wave of pleasure/pain washed over him. Jim stroked Blair to his own rhythm. Blair could feel it all build more and more and more until he could no longer bear it and he cried out his release. Jim followed soon afterwards and made the very heavens ring with his pleasure.

Blair fell onto his stomach, taking his lover with him. He couldn't move, his bones had dissolved.

Slowly, Jim withdrew and took off the condom carefully. He rolled to one side. "Sweetie darling, are you all right?"

"I'm perfect, I'm...oh...Jim...you can lead anytime you want, lover."

"Just ask, babycakes. Just ask."
 

Copyright 1999 Debra Fran Baker and NightRoads Associates

 

 

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