Pairing: Jim/Blair, Jim/m
Author on LJ:
helenishAuthor Website: Oh, the humanity!
Why this must be read: Blair is pissed when Jim blows off some important tests and exacts a bit of revenge by "outing" them at the office. It was just a joke...but word gets around, and Jim gets asked out by another cop -- a male cop. The first date is kind of an accident. The subsequent ones aren't. In the blink of an eye, Jim's in a romantic/sexual relationship with a man for the first time in his life and seems pretty happy about it. Blair isn't. He's being an asshole -- the question is why? Is he just freaked that his ultra-straight roommate, best friend and partner has suddenly and rather casually entered into a homosexual relationship? Or is he jealous?
They took Matt's car, and it was past midnight again when he dropped Jim off at the loft. They sat in the car a minute,
"The show was really good, huh?" Jim said. It had been loud and exuberant and there had been three encores. They hadn't talked much, but it was good to attend these things with another person, to have someone to nod at after a good solo, to talk to at intermission, to buy a beer in order to express the general feeling of happiness and well—being in the world that a good R&B; set could generate.
"yeah, it was," Matt nodded, "I had fun with you," he said. And then he reached one hand casually over to Jim's cheek and kissed him on the mouth before Jim could think anything but [shit he's going to kiss me.]
It had been a long time since he had been surprised by a kiss, since he hadn't been able to see it from a mile away, but this, the gentle quick pressure of someone else's mouth against his own, the taste of beer and a little gritty pretzel salt, this really surprised the hell out of him. He must have looked odd, because Matt pulled back and said,
"Hey, is this okay? I thought you said you weren't with Blair."
"I'm not," he stammered, which Matt, evidently, took to mean 'go ahead, do your thing', because he slid across the seat and cradled Jim's head in his hands and gave him a real kiss, licking easily at his lips until they opened and slipping his tongue inside as Jim took a startled breath and thought of the first girl he'd french kissed, at sixteen, and how weird it had seemed, and how he'd pressed forward anyway, believing the advertising.
It was supposed to feel good, but it mostly just felt wet, before your body got conditioned to things like that, before you had met someone who you wanted to burrow inside and never let go and spent the rest of your life trying to find someone else and Jim forgot himself, because, now, actually, kissing did feel good, and it had been a long time, so he laid a palm against Matt's shoulder and moved his mouth a little, but even he was surprised at the small sound of need that escaped his lips. Matt pulled back, stroking his hand along Jim's face.
"you okay? too fast?"
"no, it's okay, it's only. It's late," he said and tried a smile. He was at the door of the building before Matt pulled away, and he heard what he said without realizing that he had dialed up his hearing.
"Fuck. push the man—you won't be seeing him again."
But he was wrong because the next time they saw each other they made out on Matt's couch for three hours and ate a slightly charred dinner. Jim knew he should care about this sort of thing, that nodding at Matt's questioning fingers at his shirt buttons, that laughing at his teasing as he undid the buttons, raising his hands to pull him up over him to touch his face, was not something he should be spending his weekends doing. [It's wrong and sick, you're straight,] he told himself. He tried saying it out loud, alone in his truck, but this just made him laugh, since he had spent the preceding fifteen minutes contemplating whether to let Matt get into his pants next weekend.
An Unexamined Life