No infringement of the following characters and situations is intended.
Warning: Rated [MA] Mature Adults only. Contains strong m/m sexual scenes, violence, coarse language and adult themes.
All rights belong to Pet Fly.
No infringement of the following characters and situations is intended.
Warning: (MA) Mature Adults only. Contains m/m sexual scenes.
"BlairBlairBlairBlair!" Tristan squealed as he toddled across the university creche floor to his big brother. Blair scooped him up in his arms, swinging him about, earning himself more squeals.
"He certainly loves you," Carrie observed.
"Yeah, well, I get to play good cop and spoil him rotten." He followed Carrie into the second room, carrying his bundle.
Carrie had the clipboards and stop watch ready.
Blair sought his brother's attention.
"Okay, Tris, find the clock. Go on, find the clock for me."
He set Tristan on the ground and began timing him.
Tristan wandered about for a moment, then went straight to it, in the cupboard, tightly wrapped in a box, as soundproofed as he could make it.
"Whoa,man, under a minute, Tris, you are the man!" He swung up his baby brother excitedly.
Carrie wasn't sharing in his excitement looking instead behind Blair.
"What the hell is going on here?" demanded Jim behind him as he snatched up a clip board. "What the hell is this, Sandburg?"
"Whoa, Jim, easy now. Carrie's doing a doctorate in early childhood development. We're just testing Tris for possible early signs of any sentinel abilities."
Jim grabbed Tris from Blair's arms.
"My son is not a lab rat for your research projects."
"I know that, Jim. We're just observing. Nothing more, I swear. As far as Tris is concerned, we're playing games." Wide blue eyes drew him in with their sincerity. "Don't you want to know? I mean, we can't be sure until puberty, because of stuff like a child's field of vision isn't fully online until they're about ten or so, but so far Tris has been showing above average results, with the rest of the creche as a control population."
"You think he is a sentinel?"
"Maybe. I don't know. It's inherited, but it's recessive. It's too soon to tell. Can we continue this, please, Jim?"
"You should have asked first."
Blair held up his hands. "I know. I'm sorry. I got carried away by enthusiasm."
Jim chewed on this for a few moments.
"All right." he relented. "Just no needles or anything, okay?"
"Scout's honour," Blair promised.
Jim ran his hand lightly over his son's light brown hair.
"Teach him, okay?" he asked of Blair.
"You know I will." Blair promised.
Blair strapped Tristan into the baby seat in the back seat of Jim's truck.
Man, what it must look like, chasing down crooks all over Cascade with a
baby seat in the back.
"I'm really sorry, Jim," she offered.
"It's okay, Darwin. He's yours, too. I know you'd never do anything, you know. This is a guide thing, right?" He reached across the cabin to kiss Blair lightly on the lips.
"Yeah," Blair sighed.
Later that night...Blair clutched at the pillow, biting down on it as Jim
rose and thrust behind him.
"Uh, harder," he begged as Jim bit down his spine, making him twist underneath him.
He stopped,suddenly, making Jim stop.
"What?" Jim asked, breathlessly, ready to stop, if Blair wanted, but hoping he didn't.
Blair just tilted his head and Jim followed his gaze to the big blue eyes in the tiny little face watching him.
"Shit," muttered Jim, sliding free of Blair reluctantly.
"Tris," he tried to sound calm and even. "You know you're not supposed to be up here. What's wrong?"
"Sleep with you," came the reply. The little body clambered up on the bed and curled up beside them, happy.
"That is so cute," breathed Blair.
Jim just gave him a look.
"What?" Blair asked, affronted.
"He might be part sentinel, but he's all Sandburg. Does whatever he damn well pleases, looks cute and gets away with it."
Blair's throaty chuckle earned another filthy look.
"Well, are you going to build a door, let him sleep here, or what?"
"No. He has to learn." Ellison steeled himself. "No time like the present," he decided, scooping up his young son into his arms.
"Daddy..." wailed Tristan as he was carried back down the steps, his little body not match for six feet of solid muscle.
"No. Don't start. You know you can't sleep in Daddy's bed. Only Blair can sleep in Daddy's bed."
"Why?"
"Because."
"Why?"
"Because we're married, that's why."
"Why?"
Blair grinned to himself, snuggling down against the mattress, still painfully aroused, listening to Tris and an increasingly frustrated Jim.
Blair gave up and rolled out of the bed. Better go and help out Jim or he'd be too cranky for hanky panky when he got back.
Jim was firmly tucking Tristan into his bed, snapping B1 and B2 into firm army tucks, as good as a straight jacket. The kid would stay there til morning.
"Because I love your brother very, very much," he heard Jim declare proudly, stooping to bestow a fond kiss on the little forehead. He jumped at Blair's caress, focused forwards, not backwards, looking up with a smile to receive a sweet kiss.
"Because I love him so very, very much," he repeated softly, before kissing Blair again.