LOVE YOU ALL OVER

 


“So where are we going again?” Simon asked a little warily.

 

Jim grinned mysteriously.

 

“You’ll see,” he said. “Don’t worry, Simon, we’re not leaving town and we won’t make you turn your cell phone off.”

 

“Well – okay,” Simon said, settling back more comfortably in the seat.

 

Blair rejoiced. It had been a month since Simon’s birthday, since they’d invited the big captain into their hearts and their bed. In all that time they hadn’t managed a repeat performance, and despite the heavy caseload that had kept them all busy, Blair worried, and he knew Jim did too, that Simon was simply having second thoughts about the wisdom of becoming involved with them. There were vigorously enforced rules against letting couples work together and even more vigorously enforced rules against romantic involvements with one’s boss. Simon considered Jim and Blair an exception to the couples rule only because Jim probably couldn’t continue working without Blair as his Guide. There was, however, no such compelling factor mandating a threesome with their captain – only Simon’s loneliness, and Blair knew that that was very compelling and very real. Simon had never dated much since his divorce; hell, he was trying to sell his house now and buy something smaller, as if he had resigned himself to solitude.

 

But there was also, of course, the possibility that Simon simply didn’t want this particular kind of relationship. Blair and Jim had thought and talked long and hard about it before Simon’s birthday, and there were still a few concerns about Jim’s instinctive territoriality – Blair actually saw him growl at a girl who made a pass at Blair in a bar. Blair had his own concerns, too; the fact that Jim and Simon had been attracted to each other before Jim had even met Blair, even though they’d reluctantly decided not to pursue a relationship, made him a little uncomfortable, as did the fact that he wasn’t precisely sure where he stood with Simon at all.

 

Still, he and Jim had decided to give Simon one more chance before translating Simon’s lack of action as lack of interest in going forward. They’d told Simon about Fantasy Night – hell, he was supposed to have been in the last one, but had involuntarily stood them up because of an emergency at the office – and had told him it was his turn for the fantasy of his choice. Blair had waited with a little trepidation; he was pretty sure that whatever fantasies Simon might have had probably only involved Jim.

 

             

 

Simon had listened; then he grimaced.

 

“I can’t say I’m much of a fantasy person,” he said. “Hell, most of the time I’m either too tired to do anything but sleep, or too horny to last more than a minute after weeks of being too tired to do anything but sleep.”

 

“Oh, come on,” Jim teased. “Everybody’s got fantasies. It doesn’t even have to be one you actually jerked off to. Surely something gets you hot.”

 

Simon snorted.

 

“Well, Blair’s hustler fantasy was pretty damned hot,” he admitted. “Hell, I hardly got anything done that evening for thinking about what I was missing.”

 

“Hey, I’ve still got my outfit,” Blair offered. “And Jim promised you a raincheck.”

 

“No, thank you,” Simon said firmly. “I don’t think my heart could stand it.”

 

“Come on, Simon,” Blair coaxed. “Everybody’s got something they think about, something they can only dream about a lover giving them.” He saw the expression in Simon’s eyes and knew he’d scored a hit. “Give.”

 

Simon sighed.

 

“It isn’t a fantasy,” he protested. “I mean, not like that.”

 

“Doesn’t matter. Just tell us,” Blair said softly.

 

Simon looked unaccountably embarrassed.

 

“Well, a couple weeks before my birthday, I guess Jim had a sore back, and you took him back in the bathroom – “

 

“Oh, yeah, I remember,” Jim laughed. “You walked in on us. Jesus, Simon, the look on your face – you’d have thought Blair was giving me head or something.”

 

Simon grimaced.

 

“To tell you the truth, I thought he was. Me and every other detective in the bullpen, I might add,” he mumbled.

 

“So what,” Jim chuckled, “your wild fantasy is Blair giving you head in the Cascade PD bathroom?”

 

“No!” Simon looked appalled, then even more embarrassed. “It’s just – I walked in there and he was rubbing your back, and I – God, at that moment I was never more jealous of anybody in my life.”

 

Blair was interested.

 

“Jealous of who?” he asked. “Me or Jim?”

 

Simon shook his head.

 

“I don’t know,” he said softly. “Either of you. Both of you. Jim, I guess. Having someone to touch him like that, take care of him.” He sighed. “I like sex, don’t get me wrong. But wild sex is cheap, guys, a quick sweaty thrill that doesn’t keep you warm in a big lonely house and a big empty bed at night. Warm arms and loving touches, God, I miss that. Someone to wake up to in the morning, someone who smiles when you kiss them. Someone to rub your back. Joan used to do that, back in the days when it was still good with us. I’d come in all worn out, or she would, and we’d exchange back rubs or foot rubs.”

 

He grinned sheepishly.

 

“You know, Sa- -- Blair, that was what won me over that night you asked me to join you two. Not the kinky outfit or that hot little program you laid out for us – it was when you rubbed my feet.”

 

Blair glanced at Jim and grinned. Jim nodded slowly, smiling back.

 

“Simon,” Blair said delightedly, “you just got yourself a fantasy.”

 

             

 

Simon swallowed hard when Jim pulled into the drive of Romantic Getaways.

 

“Uh, guys, this is – “

 

“A theme suite hotel, we know,” Blair grinned. “Wait till you see our room.”

 

Simon groaned.

 

“I brought Joan here once.”

 

“Really?” Blair grinned. “Which suite did you get? No – let me guess. The Egyptian one?”

 

Simon shook his head.

 

“The igloo.”

 

“Oh, man,” Blair chuckled. “Like we need to imagine arctic cold around here. Come on, grab your suitcase.”

 

Simon got out when Jim parked, pulling his suitcase out of the back.

 

“Didn’t you two pack anything?” he asked, frowning.

 

“We already unpacked when we got here earlier, so everything’s set up,” Jim said, chuckling evilly. “We brought lots, don’t worry.”

 

Simon groaned.

 

“Which room is it?” Simon asked as Blair produced a key, unlocking one of the doors in the long hall.

 

“Well, we argued about it,” Blair admitted. “I’d originally thought Caesar’s Palace, it’s all Roman themed, but – well, Jim tickled me till I gave in, okay? I mean, it was kind of inevitable, and it did have the biggest bath and the biggest bed, after all – “

 

He opened the door.

 

“Welcome to Jungle Love,” he said, grinning.

 

Actually Blair hadn’t been displeased with Jim’s choice. The huge Jacuzzi was built into a simulated rock formation and the shower room, spacious and with four heads, was a simulated cave; the king-sized bed was cradled between low branches of an artificial tree. Jungle scenes were painted on all the walls and ceiling and artificial vines were draped and hung everywhere. Blair had carried out the jungle theme by bringing a couple of CD’s of rainforest sounds and native music, mostly pipes and drums.

 

“Well, this is going to be interesting,” Simon said wryly, ducking an artificial branch that snaked across the ceiling.

 

“Don’t worry, Simon,” Jim chuckled. “I doubt you’re going to be standing up very much.”

 

“Funny, I don’t remember having a Tarzan fantasy,” Simon said, smiling.

 

“We never said you did,” Blair said, opening a bottle of wine from the room’s small refrigerator, which they’d packed with goodies. “The room theme isn’t really important. What’s important is this is a nice, comfortable place where we won’t be interrupted, where we have a great big bath and a great big bed and nothing to do but each other.” He handed Simon a glass of wine.

 

“Here’s what I had in mind. I thought we’d run that big tub full of hot, bubbling water while I light some candles, and then take a warm bath together by candlelight. And then I thought Jim and I would stretch you out on the floor and give you a long, slow full-body massage with warm scented oil I’ve blended just for you. And then we’d climb into that big bed, and, depending on what you want, make love, or talk, or sleep, or just cuddle.”

 

Blair knew that once again he had scored a winner when Simon looked hastily away, but not before Blair had caught his incredulous expression.

 

“That’s – that’s a hell of a fantasy you’ve put together there,” Simon said, and Blair glanced at Jim, seeing in Jim’s returned glance that he’d caught the faint shake in Simon’s voice. Blair knew Jim would understand where Simon was coming from, probably better than Blair himself; Jim shared that difficulty with expressing his feelings. Blair could also bet dollars to dimes that Jim was smelling some heavy pheromones right about now.

 

“Is that a yes?” Blair said softly, not wanting to push Simon too hard.

 

“Hell, yes, it’s a yes,” Simon said a little roughly. “What do you think I am, a total idiot?”

 

“We don’t think you’re an idiot,” Blair said, stepping close to Simon and unbuttoning his shirt slowly. “We thing you’re a sweet, loving, beautiful, sexy man we’d like to be a part of our lives.”

 

Simon raised an eyebrow and grinned a little awkwardly, but let Blair de-shirt him. Jim started the tub filling and dropped in the muslin bag of bath herbs Blair had prepared.

 

“You know, somehow I don’t think most of those adjectives came from Jim,” Simon said, chuckling slightly.

 

“Hey, Blair’s the word man,” Jim said, joining the attack, unbuttoning Simon’s jeans. “I let him come up with the flowery phrases.” Then he paused and laid a gentle kiss on the side of Simon’s neck. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t share in the sentiments.”

 

Simon shivered, apparently struck silent, but he belatedly retaliated, fumbling with Jim and Blair’s clothes; laughing, they helped him, and articles of clothing flew in all directions, several catching in branches of the artificial tree and hanging there like bizarre ornaments.

 

The bath was full, and Jim pulled out the muslin bag, discarding it. Blair lit a few candles strategically placed on the “rock formations” around the tub, and they guided Simon into the warm water. They didn’t turn on the jets, not wanting the noise and agitation of the water. Warm scented water, slippery bath gel and three hot bodies was more than enough for this tub.

 

Blair had brought a bath puff for the body wash, but Jim pointed out from previous experience that Blair’s furry chest and belly were definitely the applicator of choice. Simon, after a test run, agreed in a rather breathless voice. Blair, thoroughly enjoying the process of Jim lathering him up, and Simon lathering himself up with Blair, couldn’t dispute the substantial evidence in Jim’s favor; the rock hard and rather sizable proof was rubbing against him both fore and aft.

 

Blair realized with a surge of love what Jim was doing – he was deliberately pushing Simon and Blair into confronting their desire for each other directly, not letting them put Jim in the middle. He’d done the same thing the first and only other time they’d been together, back at the loft. Blair hadn’t told Jim about his own reservations, his – well, let’s be honest and call it jealousy, all right? But somehow Jim had known that Blair felt left out of the inner circle of long-term friendship and deep feelings that Jim and Simon had shared. Somehow Jim had known without words that while the bond was strong between Sentinel and Guide, and while there was a strong bond between Jim and Simon as well, it was the link between Simon and Blair they needed to establish now.

 

But that was Jim’s way, always – understanding without being told, providing solutions without talk. Blair was the man of words. Jim studied a problem, decided on a solution, and acted on that decision without further ado.

 

Simon’s hands were sliding over Blair’s soapy body more confidently now, mirroring the caresses that Jim bestowed on his back and sides, but Simon’s kiss was still hesitant, tentative – and why not? Blair and Jim had had months to find out what they liked and when, how hard, how fast, where, how much; this was nothing but plain old-fashioned new-lover awkwardness, and that, at least, Blair was used to.

 

Then Simon’s finger curled through his nipple ring, tugging it gently, just as Jim’s mouth sucked hotly at the back of his neck, and Blair cried out, shuddering between the two hot, soapy bodies pressed against his own.

 

“Ohmanohman, careful,” Blair panted. “I’m enjoying this sandwich thing way too much for it to be over too soon. Besides, this is supposed to be Simon’s fantasy.”

 

“Who says it’s not?” Simon said, bending his head to nibble on Blair’s earlobe.

 

Blair was more than happy to be the filling in this sandwich cookie, and having the two largest cocks he’d ever seen rubbing against him on both sides was damned near irresistible, but he remembered what Simon had said. It wasn’t sex Simon needed right now, no matter how hot and slippery and wonderful. What Simon needed first was to feel loved. He needed intimacy first.

 

Then the hot sex.

 

“Calm down just a little,” Blair whispered in Simon’s ear, smiling as he discovered one of Simon’s erogenous zones, namely the thin skin just behind and below said ear. “Let me and Jim finish washing you. Then it’s time for your massage.”

 


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