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Aug. 1st, 2006 | 01:58 pm
posted by: jacquez in get_stoked

Notes: this was originally going to be a humorous little thing called "to tame the roid-raging gym monkey" but then it went in a different direction. I would apologize but I think this is better. :)

Happy birthday!

by laura jv
for bas

Jim settled his shoulders and heels against the floor and sighed. "I'm getting too old for this," he complained, but Blair didn't say anything. Jim hunched his shoulders and resettled them, feeling the edges of the wood dig into his back, the hard threat of bruising pressing on his elbows. "I need a mat or something," he said, and this time Blair answered.

"Yoga mat under my bed."

"Since when do you do *yoga*?" He climbed to his feet and went to dig around under Blair's bed. He excavated two hair ties, a dust bunny the size of a small horse, a gnawed pen cap, and a pair of boxers stuck to themselves with sweat and semen -- Jim dropped them hastily and wiped his fingers on Blair's sheets. He stuck his head under the bed and saw a rolled-up purple mat-looking thing on the far side, under a pile of magazines. He snagged it and scooted out, backwards, and bumped against Blair as he stood up.

"It's Naomi's," Blair said. "I do a little yoga but it always seemed weird to me, like, way to co-opt someone's religion by turning it into an exercise routine."

"Like basketball's not a religion?" Jim shook dust from the mat and loomed over Blair until he got out of the doorway.

"Basketball's *basketball*," Blair said, and propped himself on the coffee table, looking down at Jim.

Jim wriggled against the soft purple mat. "Not bad," he said, and started doing crunches. Blair didn't move, just crossed his legs and lowered his eyes. Jim closed his own eyes and counted to himself (twenty, forty, sixty) feeling his muscles contract, the sweat start on his skin, the hitch and glide of his breathing, the smell of Blair's boxers still on his fingers, the scent hitting him every time he came down.

"You're making me hurt just watching you," Blair said. Jim heard him shift against the table and opened his eyes.

"Couldn't -- hurt -- you -- to do -- a few -- crunches -- chief," he said, between movements, still counting (ninety, ninety-one, ninety -two). At one hundred, he relaxed. "You're a little soft around the midsection."

"Hey, just because I'm not a roid-raging gym monkey like *some* people--"

Jim snickered. "That sounds like a B-movie villain, Sandburg. The Roid-Raging Gym Monkey."

Blair nudged him in the side with his foot. "Or the hero."

"Never juiced in my life," Jim said, and grabbed Blair's foot, pulling him down off the table onto the floor. He left his hand wrapped around Blair's ankle and closed his eyes again, letting scent wash over him: his own sweat, Blair's body, Blair's hair, the fainter older smell of Blair on his hand taken away by the fresher, newer scent of midafternoon post-lunch Blair. "Did you eat a cucumber and peanut butter sandwich?" he asked.

"Yes," said Blair, flexing his foot under Jim's hand. "Gonna let me go?"

"No," Jim said, and turned his head, rested his cheek on Blair's thigh, inhaled deeply. Some small voice in the back of his head started screaming that he was insane, but Blair's leg barely tensed, and he felt Blair's stomach quiver with something that might be laughter or anticipation.

"OK, then," Blair said, and his hand was in Jim's hair, and Jim kissed his thigh, moved his other hand to Blair's waist and pressed against his belt, asking without words. "This is insane," Blair said, but he slid his hand under Jim's and unbuckled, and Jim fumbled for the zipper and worked his hand inside, sliding it over Blair's dick, running his fingers over hot skin.

"I hear sex is good exercise," Jim said, "but we've never--"

"Because it's *insane*," Blair said, "don't stop, do that again." Jim twisted his hand, and Blair dropped his head back against the table. "Jim?"


"Come up here and kiss me."

Jim lifted his head and sat up, and Blair pulled him in with one hand, mouth open and strong and sure, his other hand gentle on Jim's stomach. Jim broke the kiss, breathed in cucumber and peanut butter, and said "You know I love you, right? Even though you're soft around the midsection."

"I'll show you who's fucking soft," Blair said, and kissed him again.

Jim could feel him smiling against his mouth.


The End!

Comments {1}


From: basingstoke
Date: Aug. 1st, 2006 06:16 pm (UTC)


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