Disclaiming: Petfly and UPN and Danny Bilson and Paul DeMeo own them, we use them without consent and without any profit or means to offend.

Rating: NC-17, as always. This one should come with a potty mouth warning, too. <g>

Thanking: Moonpuppy, Melissa, Suze, Lum, Mousehounde, Penny, Zen. Life would suck without you guys.

Author's note: This one nancy wrote after reading a very creative challenge put out on one of the lists Zen's on, the Float Your Boat challenge.

Lyrics and song title borrowed without permission from (God help us) Poison.


Talk Dirty To Me

By Zen&nancy


Blair sat cross-legged in his bed, the covers pulled up to his waist and his laptop on his knees. He was surfing archeology sites aimlessly, bouncing around academic web rings, waiting for it to be late enough to be sure his roommate was asleep.

At first, he'd only allowed himself this guilty little pleasure on nights when Jim was out on a stakeout, or stuck working the odd graveyard shift at the station. Sometimes he accompanied his partner on these all night shifts; he liked pulling the graveyards. Somehow it always seemed more intimate to be sitting in the truck waiting for something to happen at two am, instead of in the afternoon, with business traffic and shoppers shuffling around them. He liked sitting in the truck drinking coffee from Jim's thermos and coaxing the occasional story out of his reticent Sentinel.

The time they spent on stake out was the only time Jim ever talked about the army or his time in Peru. There was something about the dark and the tense quiet that made it easier to talk. There was safety in the darkness, a freedom that made it easier to talk about old secrets and be free of embarassment, of the fear of saying too much and revealing more than either of them could handle.


That was how Blair felt about sitting in the dark in his bedroom. Here, with the soft blue glow of his laptop screen, he could pretend anything, have total anonymity, and indulge fantasies so deeply hidden his mind would never even acknowledge them in the daytime.

Now he directed his browser to the adult chat site that had become his favorite over the last two years, and logged on under his usual username. Blair leaned back against his headboard, rolling his head back and forth to ease the tension, and watching the bar at the bottom of the page. He sighed quietly in impatience, watching the browser go though its usual connecting frenzy, IP addresses and URL's flashing back and forth as his user I.D. was confirmed, and the server deposited him into the Locker Room, the chat room he'd selected to play in tonight.

As the chat room screen loaded, Blair pushed his sweatpants off his hips, leaving them bunched around his ankles under the covers for safety. Using his mouse, he checked the drop down list to see the names of the other people in the room.

Already, "hippieboy" was receiving private messages. "45 looking for younger" wanted to know if he liked anal, "Boston Butch" posted a picture of a long-haired boy bent over the hood of a car, and an older, mustached man pointing his hard cock at his ass. "Fritz" sent him a private message asking for his age and height/weight. Blair scanned his options, and decided to write back to Fritz first and see where it got him. Clicking the "private" button, he typed a reply, fibbing his height two inches taller just for fun. Fritz wrote back almost instantly, and Blair thought that the guy must be on a really fast computer. Well, you never really knew if it was a guy; the person talking dirty to you could just as easily be a horny grandmother in Cleveland. Blair laughed softly to himself, rapidly typing out a reply. "Hi, how are you tonight? Want to talk dirty to me? What do you like?"

"Hello, hippieboy, are you a good little cocksucker?" Blair's cock, already hard, began to leak thick precum as he typed a reply, feeling a flush spreading over his skin. There was something even more exciting about doing this when Jim was home. Also somewhat risky, but his research project was sound asleep in the bed directly above him, and certainly used to blocking out the sounds of Blair typing or muttering quietly to himself. As long as he didn't make any more unusual noises, he wasn't going to get caught. "Oh yeah, I'm a great cocksucker. Talk dirty to me, tell me how you'd like to shove that big tool down my throat."

"You're gonna be my whore tonight. Come on, get down on your knees and suck my cock. Make it good, boy!"

Blair groaned very quietly, only a whisper of sound escaping as he squirmed under the covers, his left hand drifting down to stroke himself as his right hand continued to type. Fritz was good, he caught on quickly to what he wanted, and the chatting got progressively nastier. Blair worked his cock slowly; chuckling under his breath at some of the particularly creative insults "Fritz" came up with. Blair wondered if English was the guy's second language, and when he got called a "donkey abortion" decided that it probably was. It didn't hinder their communication, though; Blair was getting off of the additional thrill of getting "fucked" by someone so different from himself, and very likely on the other side of the world. Letting a stranger insult and objectify him was exciting, plain and simple. However, it wasn't "Fritz" his imagination was thinking of, as he fell into the fantasy of letting his mouth be used to bring another man to orgasm. It was Jim, sleeping the sleep of the innocent above him, probably curled up on his side; the pillow pushed up over his head and one arm clutching the blanket.

"Yes! ...Ramming my meat down your throat, fucking your whore mouth harder and harder... You'd better not cum before I do, boy!"

Blair gasped softly, squeezing the leaking head of his cock hard in his fist, pushing into his hand as he came in short, intense spurts, covering his hand and stomach with fluid.

Blair lay back against his headboard, panting as quietly as he could, wiping his hand on the corner of his blanket. Reaching for the t-shirt he'd taken off he cleaned himself up, wiping his hand again before pulling his laptop back to a good typing position. He was just about to send the post when his ears recognized the sound of Jim's steps on the stairs. Panic sent his heart palpating at dead-giveaway speed as he frantically spun the ball on his mouse to close the browser window. The chat window disappeared just as his door was pushed open, just as Jim's shadow fell over the screen.

"Exactly what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jim's voice was low, and silky smooth with quiet fury.


Jim stood resolutely in Blair's little room, feeling as if he filled up the small space with his rage.

"Huh?"

"Talking dirty and jacking off to some weirdo out there in cyberspace does count as breaking the No Sex In The Loft rule, Sandburg, and unless you want to be out on your ass I'd better not ever catch you playing your sick little chat room games in my house again, do you understand me?"

Jim watched his Guide swallow hard as he nodded, his adam's apple bobbing up and down. His face was hot, turning a dark shade of crimson, and he shifted uncomfortably under the hastily-grabbed covers. "Yeah, I understand."

"Good." Jim stood his ground in Blair's doorway, his arms crossed over his chest for maximum intimidation effect, cold eyes fixed on the picture of Blair flushed, come dumb and mortally embarrassed. Jim wasn't sure if his cock had ever gone from flaccid to rock hard quite that fast before; he was sure he'd never seen anything quite as hot as Blair squirming around like that, naked under the blanket he was holding onto for dear life, shame and fear in his huge blue eyes.

"Is that what it takes to get you off, Chief? Somebody to talk dirty to you?" Jim's voice still carried a level of threat, his frame towering over his partner when he stepped into the room, stopping when his legs hit the mattress, looking down at Blair on the bed. The part of his brain that concentrated on maintaining discipline at all times was sending off loud, insistent alarms, telling Jim to get his ass back up those stairs before he lost control, but he knew he wasn't going to obey that little voice, not this time.

"It's up there on the list." Blair's answer was shaky, a nervous, miserable little laugh following his words.

"Oh yeah, what else gets you off? What else do you do down here hiding under the covers? You're a sick little puppy, Sandburg." Jim felt a rush of excitement shoot through him, going straight to his cock, watching the shame and reluctant submission in Blair's puppy dog eyes.

"Jim... I'm sorry, okay?" Blair gulped air, pushing himself back against the headboard as Jim came closer, leaning over him menacingly. Blair shrank back as far as he could, hold his hands up in front of Jim's chest, not touching him. His knees came up to his chest, hiding his groin.

"No, it's not okay. You'll tell a complete stranger about how you're jacking off in your bedroom, you can tell me. Tell me what you were typing at mach speed down here, while I was trying to sleep, smelling you get all hot and bothered and feeling like a fucking leper. My roommate won't fuck me, but he'll fuck a complete stranger who could be some psycho down the block for all he knows." Jim experienced a moment of delayed panic as he realized that more than his roommate's desires were being revealed. He could here it in his voice, four years of bottled up sexual frustration and longing. He was giving the game away, it was all coming out, whether he liked it or not.

"Fuck you? Jim, what? You-"

Jim interrupted Blair's baffled babbling with one simple gesture. He let one hand reach out and bury itself in Blair's hair, closing his fist in the rough, tangled curls. He found it to be amazingly satisfying, and was considering adding a second hand when Blair grasped his waist, trying to establish balance and keep from getting his hair pulled.

"Tell me, Sandburg. Who were you typing to? Was it a woman?" Jim's hand forced Blair's head back to look at him. There was a moment of charged silence, Jim's sharp words cutting through the haze of his own desire. He waited, half dreading the answer. If it had been a woman, Jim wasn't sure he was going to be able to stop himself from hitting him.

Blair looked like some terrified punk cumbling under the high, piercing light of interrogation, offering up the bottom line truth that came only from the deep extremity of fear. "No... a guy. German, I think." Jim felt his knees try to buckle at the powerful combination of relief and lust flowing through him.

"What were you saying, Blair? Were you sucking his cock?" Jim's low growl was still silky with control; a tone that Jim knew Blair had learned to recognize as a sure sign of being pushed to his absolute limit. He watched Blair try to process his demand, enjoying the very obvious difficulty his guide was having trying to keep his concentration on their words. He could hear the blood rushing in his veins, could see the flush spreading down to his collarbones. Jim didn't know if Blair wanted him, or if he was only horny from talking dirty to a stranger, but he told himself he didn't care.

"Yes."

"Say it!"

"I- I was sucking his cock." Blair mumbled softly, his eyes shifting away from Jim to drift around the room.

Jim tightened his fist in the thick mass of Blair's curls and forced himself to take a deep breath, regaining a measure of control. Blair's face was still flushed red, his pulse accelerated, and his blood rushing in his veins. Jim inhaled the scent of pheromones and ejaculate and sweat, his cock shuddering in response.

"That mouth was made to suck cock. Do you know that is the first fucking thought I had when I saw you? When you walked into that exam room and dumped that load of bullshit on me, I was flashing this mouth on my cock." Jim's hand moved from the back of his head to grasp Blair's jaw, exaggerating the fullness of Blair's lips as he pushed his cheeks forward.

"Oh my god, Jim..." Bair's words were half moan, half sob, and that was almost as sweet as the sight of Blair reaching for him so needfully, as he came down hard, pressing him back against the headboard.

"Oh yeah, I've been watching this mouth for two years, letting it drive me crazy. I swear to god, if I ever catch you talking dirty to anybody else, I'll toss that goddamn thing right out the window. Now talk to me, tell me all the nasty stuff you were telling a total stranger."

Blair looked up at him slackjawed, eyes wide in shock, evidently caught somewhere between lust and mortification.

"Do it! Tell me what you told him. Talk dirty to me, show me what that yaptrap is good for." Jim felt anger rise to claim control again, his hand came up, and he realized with a shock that he was going to slap Blair, hard, when his Guide began to speak, the words tumbling out in a harsh whisper. Jim's hand fell to his side, his cock shuddering and swelling to absolute hardness in his boxers.

"I- I'm a cocksucker, I'm a slut. I want to suck you like a vacuum hose. I want to deepthroat your cock 'til I can't breathe. I want to lick your balls until you scream and push my pinky finger up your ass. I wanna-"

"Oh god..." Jim groaned, the sound loud in Blair's little room. "Oh yeah, come on, oh god, yeah... You fucking little whore." Jim's whisper was harsh as his hand pushed his boxers hurriedly off his hips, kicking them off as he reached for the back of Blair's head.

"...Cock whore, wanna have you fucking my mouth like a roto rooter, like a jackhammer, want you to fuck my mouth raw, do it till I can't talk. Want you so bad, oh god, please?"

Jim had one hand in Blair's hair, the other wrapped around his leaking cock, holding Blair's mouth two inches off his cock forcefully. Blair fought in his grip, hanging off Jim's fist in his hair and straining towards the erection being pushed in his face.

"You want it?"

"Yes!"

"Beg for it."

"Oh god, Jim, pleeeease! Let me have it, I'll suck you so good, I promise. Make you come so hard, mmm, please?"

"Tell me again, Blair, tell me how bad you need it." Jim felt as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for someone to push him off. The rage was lost in the haze of lust that taken control of his body, of his common sense and his honor. If this was the only way to take Blair, to take him from a stranger, than that was exactly what he would do. He would prove to his Guide that the only cock he was ever going to suck was the one being shoved in his face.

"I'm a slut! I'm a cocksucking slut and if you don't shove that thing down my throat I'm gonna die! Please, Jim! I want you so fucking bad." Blair was almost sobbing, his cock swollen and standing straight up, bobbing against his belly as he knelt on the mattress, legs spread wide for balance, a hard grip at the back of his head holding him upright.

Jim's groan reverberated off the close walls as he pulled Blair forward hard, shoving him down onto his cock, guiding himself into Blair's soft mouth with his fist wrapped around the base. "That's it, take it, eat it up...Oh sweet jesus. Blair."

As soon as he entered Blair's mouth, Jim gentled his grip on the soft curls; his thrust into the cavern of Blair's mouth careful for all its urgency. He timed his thrusts to the long breaths Blair was taking though his nostrils, watching Blair's eyes drift shut as he pushed over unresisting muscles, feeling the smooth, wet tissue close around him, drawing him in.

"So good." Jim groaned trying desperately to hold back the orgasm he could feel coiling inside him.

Blair began to bob up and down on his cock, sucking him with amazing concentration, responding to every moan or jerk of the cock in his mouth. He discovered what Jim liked best, and held him deep in his throat moving up and down just a little, his tongue pushing up to rub back and forth over the underside, just below the head.

Jim watched as Blair's hand strayed to his own cock, and the sight of him pumping the red, swollen flesh hard into his fist made Jim buck into his mouth, one hand firm over the back of his neck, drawing Blair smoothly forward and back over his shuddering cock. When Blair moaned around him, that lithe body jerking helplessly into his own hand, Jim went with him and let himself go, shooting hot streams of come down Blair's throat.

"Holy shit." Jim sighed, his nerves fried from pleasure and his vision still hazy and tinged with unnaturally vibrant color. His hands groped for Blair's shoulders, swaying and dizzy on his feet. It was strange to come back from near zone of a mind blowing orgasm and still be here, standing in Blair's room. He'd almost convinced himself that this was dream.


Blair raised his head to look up at the man leaning over him, feeling as though he'd somehow crossed the line between fantasy and reality, and slipped into his own dreams. Jim was swaying dangerously, a lack of comprehension in his eyes that made Blair think immediately of zone outs, and shift into Guide mode.

"Don't fall." Blair's voice was scratchy and hoarse in his own ears. He raised his hands to grasp Jim's on his shoulders, pulling the larger man down onto the bed with him. "Are you okay?"

"Light years better than okay. I think you blew my brains out. Someday I'm going to make you tell me all about how you learned to suck cock like that, Sandburg." Jim's voice was warm and gravelly in his ear as he was pulled against the hard, sweaty body. Jim pulled the covers up around them and shifted them onto their sides, getting both of them as comfortable as possible in Blair's small bed.

"Mm, whatever you say." Blair mumbled, curling up tightly on his side, one hand reaching out to drag Jim's arm more closely around him.

"I say you have a filthy mouth, and that it's absolutely beautiful." Jim growled softly, lips reaching out unexpectedly to take Blair's earlobe between his teeth.

"I'm glad you think so." Blair whispered back, a wide smile spreading over his face. Jim's lips brushed his cheek softly, a silent communication of thanks and understanding, telling him that this little game would stay right here in Blair's room, in this moment in time. Then Jim pulled him closer, settled him against the warmth of his chest, and Blair felt himself being lulled slowly to sleep by the steady rhythm of Jim's breath, the rise and fall of his chest against his back.

"Sweet dreams, Chief." Jim whispered in his ear, evidently already half asleep himself.

"That was my dream, big guy." Blair mumbled back, laughing a little as he drifted off into happy oblivion.


You know I never

I never seen you look so good

You never act the way you should

But I like it And I know you like it too

The way that I want you

I gotta have you Oh yes, I do

And I know you cannot wait

Wait to see me too

And baby...

Talk dirty to me

Lyrics borrowed (and chopped to pieces) without permission from Poison.


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