leftwithmybones | [For Chase]

Entry tags:

chase

[For Chase]

McCoy's not sure what to do about the fact that he's still on an Island, so instead of doing something about it, he retires to the jazz club and decides to drink, instead. It's not the most productive plans, it's not the best, but it gives him something to do. It gets him away from the Nameless Cat and Spock and it lets him drift into some version of the past where he had no worries, could be carefree, and a normal man not bowed down in grief for six billion souls, an ex-wife who kept his daughter from him, and his father's life weighing on his conscience.

He's starting to think maybe Jim and Chekov have the right idea. Find someone and let everything be poured into that desperate act of sex or companionship or whatever passes for it these days. He knocks back the rest of his drink and orders another as he turns to look at the woman that he's been watching since she came in. She's young, but not young and undeniably beautiful. He might be tipsy, but he knows that he's not dead inside if he can still acknowledge someone so stunning.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Chase slid one hand up into his hair and pressed herself even closer. It felt... nice. She ducked her head then and kissed his neck, sliding one hand down his chest, fingers bunching in the material.

McCoy's feeling pretty heady. He hasn't had enough to drink to make him tipsy, let alone drunk, but there's something about the smell of a woman's hair, the faint miasma of her whole being, and he's been captivated by it before to his detriment. He feels like he deserves this again. "Couch?" he checks, kissing her lips lightly as he pulls away just enough to ask. "Not the bed?"

Chase smirked. "I'll let you decide," she said. "You really want to move?" She was kind of anxious to keep going, herself...

"Not at all," McCoy promises, sliding forward and pinning her down with one hand while he uses his other to get his shirt off, mussing his hair as it falls away. "You like the top or the bottom?"

Chase laughed, delighted, and slid both hands up his chest. "This seems to work," she said playfully. Though she lifted up just enough to yank her own shirt over her head, revealing a lacy red bra underneath.

McCoy's definitely pleased at that, grinning warmly and letting his hands slowly roam up her back to fiddle and play with the clasp, not quite unhooking it just yet. "That," he announces, content, "is the best surprise all day."

Chase laughed. "Well, it's not long until Valentine's Day," she pointed out. "Maybe you should consider this your early present." The merits of casual sex aside, she was having fun, which was something she hadn't been having a whole lot of lately.

"I haven't exactly celebrated in some time," McCoy breathlessly points out, licking his lower lip as he sneaks his hand away from holding her to push into his own trousers to try and coax something, damn it, as he kisses her and tries to keep her distracted.

"Neither have I," Chase admitted.

She caught his movement out of the corner of her eye and slid one of her hands down, covering his. "Let me," she purred.

He lets out a quiet noise of thanks, giving her a long look as he smiles ruefully, hating that he's apparently lost the ability to do this. "Usually, things are a little more in sync than this," he murmurs apologetically.

After a moment in which Chase did not seem to be faring better, she kissed Leonard softly, and then asked, keeping her voice a little throaty, "Is there anything in particular you... like?" She didn't want to embarrass him; she'd been a therapist long enough that she had heard about this situation from the man's perspective often enough.

"Usually, a good touch to the right areas and everything sails smoothly," he murmurs with a heavy sigh, leaning into the kiss and at least accepting that it keeps him calm and doesn't send him flying off into a panic attack. "I'll just blame it on space," he says with a smirk, lips ghosting against the corner of hers. "Much easier to blame pressurized hulls and fabricated gravity than me."

"As long as you're not blaming me," Chase said lightly, though after a moment she pulled away and slid her hands up to his face instead. "There's no hurry," she murmured. "We we don't have to do this, if you're not ready."

"You're gorgeous and intelligent and my brain wants you more than I can say," McCoy assures, letting out a long breath, closing his eyes as his posture sags. "Damn it, I've been ready," he exhales. "I really am."

"We can... we can do other things..." Chase offered, at a bit of a loss. Then she brought a hand up to his face. "I'm sorry, Leonard, I'm not entirely sure what to say here."

"Saying nothing at all would be the best," he says and collapses back against her antique fainting couch, giving her a tired look as he grasps at his balled-up shirt. "Saying that it happens to all men..." He trails off and groans heavily, leaning over to kiss her. "This is supposed to be fun and easy."

Chase offered him a small smile and then said sincerely, "Well, you're a very good kisser. And there's nothing wrong with going slow, right?" Of course, they had obviously been geared up for a one-night stand, not a date. Not that she didn't think Leonard was great.

He rubs at his eyes and opens one, just to peek at her, get a good look at just how disappointing he's being in general about this. "If we try again and I still...can't, I feel like I'm going to be disappointing you more," he admits. "You're gorgeous, you're doing all the right things, and I can't respond."

Chase sat up a little, and regarded him with an expression a little more serious. "I'm probably going to regret saying this because I know it's the shrink in me talking, but..." Her expression gentled a little. "You may want to think about why. Maybe you're just having a bad night, or... maybe you're not. It's obviously nothing to be ashamed of, but it might be something you can fix."

He gives her a long look that begs for silence, but he knows that it won't happen. "I've got psychology training too," he admits, as if it's something he'd rather hide than talk about. He gives her a pleading look, hating that he can't even appreciate a gorgeous, intelligent woman like this. "Look, I've had sex since my divorce, that shouldn't be the problem."

Chase simply nodded. She wasn't about to argue with him; it wasn't her place, not in this position. Even if he did decide to talk to someone, it wouldn't be appropriate for it to be her. It was enough that the idea was in his head.

She leaned in and kissed him softly, once more. "I hope you don't consider the evening a loss," she said. "Perhaps it is only a sign that we should be friends, for now. I'm not disappointed in the company."

McCoy leans into the kiss, possibly a shade too desperately and feeling like it's filled with things he wants and can't have. "Neither am I," he admits after a belabored moment. "Just wish I wasn't so disappointing tonight."

"Oh, Leonard," Chase sighed. "The ways that men have disappointed me in my life rarely has anything to do with sex. Trust me, you've barely scratched the surface." She thought of Bruce, and offered him a small smile, reaching for her shirt. She was reluctant to suggest they do other things, because the mood rather seemed spoiled besides. "Come on, why don't we go back to the club. I'll buy you a drink this time, and you can tell me about being a space doctor."

That gets a quiet laugh out of him and he runs a hand through already-mussed hair as he tries to get himself back into a decent state. "Promise you won't go off telling all your friends about the bad lay you had?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[For Chase]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject