Chapter Two

Jim stretched, wincing a little. It has been a long time since Blair had left him quite so deliciously sore. Last night, after they'd gotten home, had been fabulous.

He'd refused to let Jim speak at all. He just dragged him upstairs. Next thing Jim knew, he was kneeling on his bed, clutching the headboard for dear life while Blair took him fast and hard, all the while murmuring about how sexy he'd been that night, how much he'd wanted to touch him just like this.

Jim shivered at the memory. Blair had even called out his name at the end, something he hadn't done in a long time. That by itself made him feel...odd. He couldn't put his finger on it...the sex had been to die for and they'd ended up cuddling as usual, Blair wrapped up around him like a human blanket. How had he *ever* managed to get to sleep without him all those years?

Now Blair was puttering in the kitchen. Jim had just decided it was time to get up when he was summoned. "James! Breakfast!"

"Coming!" He got up and pulled on his peach silk kimono, the one Blair had found in a consignment store just in time for his birthday. He loved the way it flowed over his body, and the way Blair grinned when he wore it.

He saw it again when he came downstairs. "Good morning, sleepyhead. I have a pan of cholesterol on the stove just waiting for you." Blair dished him up a plate of western omelet.

"You're up early, sweetcheeks." Jim sat down gingerly, to Blair's obvious and sadistic amusement, and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"You don't have a class today, do you?"

Blair shook his head and joined Jim at the table. "I just happened to get up. You were so gone that an *earthquake* wouldn't have woken you up. No, strike that. If there ever were an earthquake, we'd know in advance when you started *howling*. But nothing short of an earthquake. I mean, I kissed you and I took a *shower* and dropped stuff and you were just *out*."

"*Breathe*, darling, *breathe*. Can I *help* it if *somebody* completely wore me out last night?"

He grinned. "Yeah, well...this is my second omelet." He indicated his full plate. "We are now totally out of ham and are rapidly running out of eggs, so if you want seconds, you get scrambled."

"And I scramble them myself?"

"You got it."

"Last night was strange. I cannot *believe* how well you and my dad got along."

"Me, neither. I was expecting this total *ogre*, and he was acting all...father-in-law-ish."

"Well, look at how your mother treats me."

Blair laughed. "Naomi loves you, man. When she calls me, she asks about her favorite daughter-in-law. And that day you two went shopping...I swear, you *bonded* over cashmere shawls."

"And how would you know that? If I recall, Poindexter, *you* were hiding out in some bookstore. And I'd found the most darling sweater for you, too."

"Which is why I was hiding, man. Anyway, that's part of why I'm up early. Don't want to be late to work...not how to build a good rep. And if you don't get a move on, James, Simon is going to have both our asses. And *not* in a good way."

"He never will have them in a good way. Such a pity, too." He scraped up the last of his eggs, gulped his coffee and, while Blair stacked the dishes and soaked the pots, took his own shower.

Twenty minutes later, he was dressed to his satisfaction, and *so* happy to be out of last night's masquerade.

Blair didn't give him the leer he wanted, but after last night,the poor m