Here's my story, "White Ceiling", written according to the rule of "only the story idea matters -- writing skills have nothing to do with the worth of a story". The idea is exactly the same as White Ceiling, the plot follows the exact same pattern, everything. All I've done is rewrite it with only the idea as focus, ignoring grammar (as much as I'm able), spelling (ditto), character development, character voice, show-don't-tell (and anyone who doesn't understand the difference, pay attention to the differences between this and "White Ceiling" -- this version is pure telling, with no "showing" at all, and that's a huge part of why this is so weak), and so forth. I've got one more version, here, taking the idea to its extreme.
written May 1999
Jim came home after a two-day stakeout. He walked into the loft and noticed something was wrong. It didn't feel right. He looked around and realized that Blair's things were gone, all gone!
He walked into Blair's room, but it was the same there. All of Blair's things were gone. He lay down on the bed, and stared unhappily at the ceiling. Then he noticed the fresh paint on the ceiling, and smiled remembering the day that they painted it. Blair had gotten ink all over it from bouncing on the bed with a pen in his hand, and Jim made him paint the whole ceiling. But Blair got Jim to help, and they had a really fun day. Jim had wanted to touch Blair, to kiss him, but didn't dare. He didn't want to scare Blair off. So all they did was paint, then later watch sports wrap-up shows together and drank beer.
But now Blair was gone anyway. What had Jim done? Had he given away his secret?
Sighing, Jim left Blair's room and went to the kitchen. But there was no Blair-food there, just Jim-food. He closed the fridge.
He was really alone. He guessed it was time to look at the box Blair had obviously left for him. He walked over to the couch and sat down. Then he reached over to the box and picked up the envelope, addressed to him, that was on it. It was a letter from Blair. He started to read it.
The letter said that Blair had been hit by wanderlust, and that he wanted to leave before he wore out his welcome. It also said that he'd bought Jim a present, which was in the box. Jim was supposed to name it, but nothing stupid. Blair then wrote: "Consider yourself hugged" and signed the note.
Jim read the note a couple of times, trying to figure out why Blair had wanted to leave, but it didn't make any sense. He wished that Blair stayed around long enough to give him a real hug, because he would've hugged back and never let go. But Blair was gone.
Finally, Jim put down the note and reached into the box to find his present. It was a pudgy teddy bear. He decided to name the bear Bilbo, because Blair had mentioned Bilbo in his note.
That night Jim couldn't sleep, so he went downstairs to get the teddy bear and carried him back to bed, and slept with it in his arms.
The next day Jim woke up and panicked when he couldn't hear Blair's heartbeat. He was halfway down the stairs before he remembered. Blair was gone. He looked at Bilbo and said, "I can do this. I can be strong." Then he got ready for work, and put Bilbo on his bed before he left for hte day.
"Hi Jim, where's Sandburg?" Simon asked. "I thought he was supposed to be here today."
Jim sighed, he hoped he wouldn't have to explain so soon. "Can we go to your office Sir?" he asked. "I have to talk to you."
They walked into Simon's office and Jim explained how Blair had gone away over the weekend. He showed Simon the note.
Simon read the note, confused. Jim said the note said Blair wanted to leave, but Simon thought it said that Blair was afraid to stay because he loved Jim too much. Simon decided to let Jim figure it out for himself, with a few helpful nudges from himself.
But seeing how unhappy Jim was, Simon said, "Do you want some time off, Jim?"
"No" Jim said "I would rather work, Sir."
"Okay Jim you can work if that is what you want. How's the Pilleri case?"
"We -- I have some leads," Jim said.
"Well what are you waiting for? Get to it!" Simon said.
"Yes Sir," Jim left.
This went on like this for a few weeks, with Jim working hard during the day and then going to the gym after work so he'd be too tired at night to be lonely. Simon was worried but Jim didn't care.
A month after Blair left, Simon told him he had to take some time off, so he did, even though he didn't wnat to. He wandered around the loft thinking, and then read Blair's letter again. He thought maybe he read it wrong the first time. Simon had said some stuff about Blair, and Naomi had called him and been weird. But then Naomi was weird a lot of hte time. Still, they both seemed to think Jim had missed something important. Jim kept thinking. Finally it dawned on him -- Blair wanted him as much as he wanted Blair! He'd been so busy trying not to give himself away that he didn't notice Blair doing hte same thing. He had been so stupid, and now it was too late to fix it.
Blair didn't walk out because he didn't really care, he walked out because he was scared Jim would kick him out.
Jim went into the spare room, where he hadn't gone since Blair left. He laid down on the bed, thinking about Blair, groin throbbing until it almost hurt. He undid his jeans, hten decided to do this right, and sat up to take off his shirt. He then pulled off his jeans and boxers, and laid down again, naked. He started stroking his cock and playing wiht his nipples, thinking about Blair before he left and what would have happened if Jim had kissed him or touched him. Jim's eyes closed as he pictured it, thinking about the day they'd painted the ceiling, when Blari was on the ladder. Jim imagined touching Blair's ass, stroking it and Blair turning around and down to kiss him. He moaned and gripped his cock harder.
He kept imaginging the scene, with him and Blair getting closer and his hands moving on the other man's body, hearing in his mind the sounds the anthropologist would make. He thought about lifting Blair's shirt so he could lick and kiss along his spine.
Jim licked his hand, then went back to steadily stroking his cock. His other hand was moving all over his chest and belly, searching out all his sensitive spots. When his cock began weeping, he spread the moisture over it and groaned.
Now Jim started thinking about taking Blair's shirt all the way off, kissing him all over his neck and the side of his face as Blair stood on the ladder. In his mind Blair urged him on, taking Jim's hand and putting it on the waistband of Blair's jeans so that Jim could undo them. WHich Jim did. Then took the jeans all the way off. He let his hands touch the skin as he took them off.
He imagined Blair standing there naked in front of him, and himself kissing Blair's ass and back. Blair whimpered in his mind, wanting more. The imaginary Jim smiled and stripped, then stepped closer to Blair until tehy were touching, with Blair's butt brushign the top of his pubic hair.
Jim bit his lip at the imagined feel of Blair's skin against his, and he stroked his cock faster and harder.
The Blair in his mind started chanting 'touch me' and so he did. He slid his cock between Blair's thighs, kissed his shoulder, and reached for his cock. Blair moaned as Jim started stroking, then gasped as his other hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently. As he stroked Blair, Jim started thrusting between his thighs. He kissed all over Blair's neck and shoulder, until suddenly Blair turned his head to kiss his lips passionately.
Jim was stroking his cock hard and fast now, his other hand squeezing his balls lightly, both in perfect unison with his fantasy motions on Blair. His heavy breathing echoed in the small room.
In his mind, Blair panted 'Oh God Jim I'm gonna come.' Jim tightened his hadn on Blair's shaft and replied, 'Yeah, that's it, come for me, I want you to.' Blair wailed and came, thighs clenching around Jim's cock. Jim thrust harder, still milking Blair's cock for the last drops. Spent, Blair relaxed, and Jim let go and grabbed his hips, holding him tight. He bit Blair's shoulder as he came, shooting over Blair's thighs for what felt like forever.
Jim's cry echoed through the whole apartment as he came. Barely muffled by the hand he'd thrust into his mouth. Slowly the fantasy faded, and he opened his eyes to see himself lying alone in an empty room, with semen all over his chest. He raised a hand to wipe at it, surprised at the bloody toothmarks in it - he'd bitten harder than he thought.
Almost mechanically, he got up and headed for the shower. The ache inside was sharper now that he let himself think about what might have been. As he stood under the hot spray, he decided - no more fantasizing about Sandburg. He had to move on, to get past this - Blair was not coming back to him, and that was that. He'd managed to go this long without masturbating to images of Blair naked... No! Savagely, Jim turned off the water and toweled himself dry.
He was strong. He could get through this.
Well, he had good intentions, anyway.
He'd managed to resist for almost a week, if you didn't count morning showers. But then things kept reminding him of Blair, and the next thing he knew, he was coming all over himself again eveyr time.
He even had to put poor Bilbo through the wash after humping the toy in his sleep one night because it still smelled like Blair.
After another week or so he got more under control. He still dreamed and masturbated, but not as bad any more.
Finally two months after Blair left, Jim was sitting on the couch drinking a beer and staring at Bilbo. The beer was to celebrate, kinda. He survived two months without Blair.
While he wasn't paying attention, the door opened. Jim was drinking his beer when he heard a voice say "umm, Jim?"
Jim couldn't believe it. It sounded like Blair, but it couldn't be. He looked over, and it looked like Blair, too.
Blair said, "Jim?"
It smelled like Blair -- It was Blair!
Blair started to say "Jim are you all right?" but before he could finish Jim had race across the floor and was hugging him hard saying his name over and over.
Blair said "Jim I love this but I can't breath." Jim let him go and said "you're home?"
Blair said, "Yes I'm home. Naomi told me I was stupid to leave and I agree with her but I was scared to stay, but now I'm home."
"I love you," Jim said.
Blair's eyes widened. "I love you too man."
Jim smiled and kissed him. "I was too scared to tell you before. But I'm not scared any more."
"Me either. But can we talk about this later?"
Jim first teased Blair saying he'd rather play Scrabble, but then agreed laughing, and they went upstairs to the bedroom. Bilbo was the only one who heard them laughing and moaning, and he wasn't going to tell anyone.
Later, Jim asked Blair why he'd been bouncing on the bed and getting ink on the ceiling weeks ago.
"Oh that. I always do that. I was marking my territory, you konw? Putting a spot on the ceiling that I can always look at and know it's mine, that I'm home."
Jim gasped and held him close. "I made you paint it over!" he exclaimed. "I'm so sorry!"
"No Jim its all right" Blair said. "I didn't really need a mark to know that I was home when I'm here."
Jim smiled at that. "Oh good. And what about the wanderlust?" Jim asked, feeling better.
"Well Jim the best thing about wanderlust is coming home at the end of it."
"Welcome home Chief" Jim said.
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