Chapter One
Jim waffled a bit over which earring to wear. He finally settled on his smallest gold stud, and even then he held it for a moment, not sure if he should wear even that. Ah. His father had seen it before. He slipped out the sapphire one and put the new one in, and turned his head. Good. Just barely noticeable.
That done, he stood before his full-length mirror and adjusted his current...costume was probably *just* the right word. He wore a sweater over a t-shirt over a pair of slightly faded jeans and boots. The things we do for family.
Blair was waiting for him in the living room, reading some journal. Now, *he* looked as delicious as ever. "How do I look, sweetcheeks?"
He looked up, and his face just glowed. "Jim! That's...you haven't worn that sweater in months."
Jim shrugged. "What could I do? It was a gift from Dad."
"Well, it fits you, man. Fits you enough that if we weren't so late..." Blair leered playfully, and picked up the giftwrapped wine bottle. "But we'd better get going."
"Oh, darn!" Jim snapped his fingers, gave Blair a brief kiss. "Maybe if we were late enough, we could just miss it." He grinned again and took his jacket and car keys. "And we will be right on time."
"Right. If we survive."
"I heard that."
"You were meant to." Blair looked entirely unapologetic for his slur on Jim's driving.
Despite all of Blair's mutterings, they got to Jim's father's place without major mishap, breaking the speed limit too severely *or* using the siren, *and* two minutes early.
Blair sat in the cab, shaking, until Jim handed him out. "I just promised my first born child if we survived this trip."
"And who is having this child, if I may ask?"
Blair smiled. "Are you sure that's the right tense? You know all about my wild past. Okay, I'm steady now. What *was* that rush about?"
"Darling, you are *never* late to William Ellison's. Time is *money*." They walked up to the front door carrying the wine bottle. Jim took a deep breath and straightened his spine before ringing the door bell.
To Jim's surprise, Dad opened the door himself. "Son. Dr. Sandburg. Welcome." He held out his hand. Jim took it in a firm grip.
"Hello, Dad."
"Hi, Mr. Ellison." Blair juggled the wine bottle and nearly dropped it in his eagerness to take Dad's hand. "Thanks for inviting us."
Dad just smiled and took the gift. "It was long over due. Please, come in."
Jim put a hand on Blair's shoulder as they followed his father into the living room. There were trays of canapes set out on the coffee table, and Jim could smell...yes. Pot roast. In Sally's special wine sauce, too. Dad was going all out.
"Have a seat. Would you care for something to drink, Dr. Sandburg?"
"Uh. Yeah, sure. Whatever you got. Sir." Blair seated himself awkwardly on the sofa.
"Jimmy, you know where the drinks are."
"I think so. Scotch okay?"
"Just a small one. Don't want to interfere with dinner."
Jim watched his father settle on the leather chair next to the sofa, and busied himself at the bar. There was an open bottle of...whoa. Macallen. He poured three short glasses, making sure that his was well watered. Meanwhile, Dad and Blair had a painfully polite conversation about university politics.
He carefully handed out the glasses, watching for Blair's delight at the taste of truly fine liquor as he settled next to him, as close as he could without touching him.
"You're ruining that scotch, Jimmy."
"I know." He also knew that no way was he going to get relaxed here. "It tastes just fine like this."
"What do you think about that, Dr. Sandburg?"
Blair smiled. "It's truly excellent, Mr. Ellison. Thank you. I'm basically a beer man myself, but I could go for this."
"We'll just have to educate your palate."
"Educate my palate, sir?" Blair caught Jim's eyes and smiled.
"A man is judged by many things in this world. Unless I miss my guess, you will be rising in academic and civic circles in the next few years. Little things like knowing this scotch can make a huge difference."
Jim rolled his eyes. He'd heard *that* speech his entire life. Blair bit his lip. "Umm, sir. I appreciate the advice, but I'm pretty well where I want to be. Faculty parties and...Rotary clubs just aren't my thing, you know?"
"Now you're in for it." He leaned in towards Blair, hoping his father wouldn't notice or hear. Blair shook his head.
All Dad did was chuckle. "They may not be your thing...as I remember, the corporate equivalents are tedious as hell...but you have a unique position and the responsibility to use it."
"I don't understand."
Bill Ellison took a sip from his glass. "You're an academic and a member of our police force, are you not?"
"I'm a consultant to the police and I'm an adjunct professor at Rainier. I'm sort of on the edge of both."
"Even so, you have done a great deal to bring the two together."
"I've done my best. But..."
"If you want to do more, you have to consolidate your position, move in from the edge. I don't mean you need to glad hand. But you need to be seen and respected. Especially since you are also my son's lover."
Jim sat up straight while Blair nearly dropped his glass. "What did you say, Dad?"
Dad just smiled. "Dr. Sandburg *is* your lover, isn't he? That was why he marched next to you at the head of that parade, right?"
"Um."
"Well, umm..."
Dad chuckled. "Jimmy, I've known you were...er...gay, for years. Since you ran to that part of town."
"You...you never said..."
He shrugged. "It was up to you. I should have spoken, perhaps, when that Freddie person was killed. I owe him a debt of gratitude that I could never repay."
"You...you knew about Freddie?" Jim could hardly put words together. This was about as far beyond his imagination as Simon in a dress.
"Of course I do. I followed their trial. The judge is a member of my club, you know, so I even spoke to him about them. I don't know how much good it did, but I tried. They saved your life, Jimmy. And I can promise you...Mel will never lose his gallery so long as I can do something about it."
"I don't believe this. Since when are you so tolerant?"
Blair laid a hand on Jim's arm. It was the only thing keeping him from jumping up and approaching his father.
"You are what you are. I would have rather you had been straight, that your marriage to Lt. Plummer had been anything but a farce, but what cannot be cured must be endured."
"So, now I'm just...endured? I'm a freak you have to...what? Why am I here? Why are *we* here?"
"Jim, calm down. It's cool that we're here at all."
Jim settled back on the couch and downed his scotch and water all at once. He felt like he'd slipped into some bizarre alternate universe.
"You're here because I've wasted enough time waiting for you to say something. And because I wanted to meet Dr. Sandburg for more than a few minutes. I never got a chance to meet your wife, Jimmy, and this is a far more important relationship for you."
"He is. He's...my life." Jim smiled at his lover and, taking courage from his eyes, squeezed his hand.
Blair ducked his head and squeezed back.
"Do I pass muster, Mr. Ellison?"
"Time will tell. You've had an impressive career...no, I haven't been prying, son." Jim closed his mouth. "Dr. Sandburg's career gets a mention whenever you catch someone, or there's a trial. College at sixteen, several papers as an undergraduate, two well received dissertations plus other papers since, and awards and commendations from the police department. I'd be proud if a daughter of mine married you."
Something pinged in the kitchen. "We'd better get dinner on the table. I gave Sally the night off, so I'll need you boys to help me."
Jim, still in shock, let Blair haul him to his feet so they could follow his father. The rest of the evening was as surrealistic as their predinner drinks. Dad had actually cooked the meal, albeit with Sally's recipes and advice, and allowed Blair to fix the salad.
The only point of normalcy that entire meal was his father lecturing his lover and him about the wine he'd served for dinner. The rest of the time, he spoke about their positions in the community as cops, academics and as gay men.
Blair didn't make things any easier. All through dinner, he kept looking at Jim or touching him under the table when his father's attention was elsewhere. It was like he couldn't keep his hands off all night. He was used to Blair being demonstrative, but he rarely got this touchy in private, let alone in public. Between his father the gay rights activist and his lover the octopus, Jim was on edge all evening.
And he had to concentrate on his straight act all the time. Dad maybe was comfortable with Jim's sexuality. He didn't need to see anything more. And after letting it go for so long, he found his old butch self didn't fit anymore. Thank God he could take it off when they got home.
That, however, wouldn't be for a long while. There was dinner. There was dessert in the living room - Dad had actually baked a cake. Yes, from a mix, but in all the time Jim had spent growing up, his father had never even opened the oven. He and Steven did all the cooking on Sally's nights off, or they ordered in.
To make matters worse, Blair had offered to make the coffee - and had dragged Jim into the kitchen with him. "I need you to show me where everything is. We'll be back in a few minutes, Mr. Ellison."
Except that Blair had already figured out where the coffee and the coffee maker were - out in plain sight on the counter, with the cups and other things right above it.
Two minutes later, the pot was dripping and Blair had grabbed Jim around the waist. "Oh, man. I've been dying to get you alone all night. Just looking at you that way makes me want to..."
He pulled Jim's head down with one hand and began to kiss him thoroughly, deeply, while the other massaged his rear end through the old jeans. Under other circumstances, Jim would have been pleased and amazed. It had been a long time since Blair had pounced on him like that. However, his father was in the next room, and that put a damper on his response. Even when Blair's hand moved to the front of his jeans.
Jim pulled away from the kiss just long enough to speak. "Not now, sweetcheeks."
Blair got the message right away. He let go immediately and started setting up a tray with cups. Jim sighed in mingled disappointment and relief and got the cream out of the fridge.
"Just wait'll I get you home. I'm going to nail you to the mattress." Blair's breath was hot on his neck as he whispered softly in his ear. Then he hoisted the tray and took it into the living room, leaving Jim to sputter in the kitchen for a moment.
Dad smiled at him when he finally emerged, then continued to dispense advice to Blair, who found a moment to leer at Jim before nodding at his father. The entire evening was simply...surreal.
It became more so when Blair pounced on him in the truck, licking and kissing and groping him as soon as they got the doors closed. "My...my father..."
"Is in the house, finishing his last scotch. Which is not as tasty as you are, Jim." Blair proved that right away, as he unbuttoned Jim's jeans, pulled out his steadily hardening penis and proceeded to swallow it whole.
"Is in the house, finishing his last scotch. Which is not as tasty as you are, Jim." Blair proved that right away, as he unbuttoned Jim's jeans, pulled out his steadily hardening penis and proceeded to swallow it whole.
Jim found himself unable to do more than hang on to the car seat and try to muffle his screams. Blair used his talented mouth to bring him to the edge and back several times. rendering him unable to think. Finally, his orgasm literally exploded out of him. leaving him panting and weak and utterly unable to do more than grin like an idiot.
Blair sat back, licking his lips and smiling. "Guess I'm driving home tonight."
"What...what...you didn't...."
"Not *yet*. Just wait. I have...plans for you and that sweet butt." With that, he got out of the truck so that Jim, with a great effort, could move to the passenger side and Blair could take over.
Of course, he'd always taken over...Jim played with that delightful thought all the way home.
Blair shushed him when he wanted to comment on the evening. Instead, he turned on the radio and spun the dial. They hit KKRK, which had become all-talk a few months back, specializing in conservative programming. The guy speaking now was among the furthest right - Jim recognized his particularly bombastic style right away.
Adam Hunter. Former minister and current conservative darling, with a syndicated column in half the papers in the country, a semi-regular spot on one of the Sunday talking heads programs and a hatred for all things gay.
He and his callers were ranting about how unnatural it was for a man to dress in women's clothing. Jim thought about Miss Mellie and Lady Eve and his other transvestite friends, male and female, gay and straight and clenched his fists.
Blair, his own face set and angry, changed the station quickly, finding a "Classic Rock" station instead. "We do not need to hear that crap tonight. Just ignore it. We'll be home soon." He gave Jim a friendly leer again as he continued to drive home.