leftwithmybones | (no subject)

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Once the speeches end, McCoy waits for the crowd to disperse and for people to move on to whatever comes next. As far as he's concerned, what comes next is waiting for Jim to come down from all the restless energy that he's probably buzzing with. Hell, the man's bad enough with a failure on his back, but a success makes him all the more dangerous. He ought to have put some kind of contingency plan into action so no one comes out of this hurt.

He's eased against a tree near the back of the stage, thinking about the productions that he's seen in his time here and how he's graduated to watching political events live. There was a time a year ago when he didn't think he'd even make it out of the house most days, let alone be present for something like this.

When the crowd's thinned out enough, he pushes away from the tree and catches up to Jim, falling into step at his side. "I'm giving you five free minutes to let your ego out," he says. "So use it wisely."

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Well, he knows that this is a very serious conversation, but Jim's gone and placed ideas in his mind about him being turned into a girl and well, McCoy has some very naughty thoughts in his mind about what he'd do with that kind of sitation. "You're on your way to doing something right now," he praises. "Running for Council, giving a speech like that. So, what're you going to be doing now, Captain Kirk?"

"I don't know," says Jim, but he's clearly warming to the topic if the slow-spreading grin on his face is any indication. "Maybe seeing how long I can get away with calling you my First Lady."

McCoy shoots Jim a wary look. "Try it. Try it once and see what happens," he drawls with a warning look in Jim's direction, a smirk on his lips as he practically dares him to do it.

Jim considers, shifting from foot to foot, then grabs Bones' face in both hands, kisses him like he's been dying to ever since he first hopped down from the stage. Then, since he's not sure he'd be allowed to kiss him if he said it first, adds, "You've got a pretty mouth, First Lady."

He laughs, just this once, and threads his fingers around to the nape of Jim's neck to haul him closer, slanting into a more aggressive kiss as soon as he gets labelled First Lady, nipping at Jim's lower lip like that's gonna teach him any kind of lesson. "If we're going by pretty mouths, yours is the prettiest," he points out breathlessly.

"If mouths were all it took," Jim agrees, sinking his fingers into Bones' hair, as much to hold himself up as to hold Bones near, "We'd be a power couple."

If someone told him that he'd be feeling like a teenager all over again, swept up in the desperate need to do nothing more than touch and grope and kiss and maul Jim in any way whatsoever, he wouldn't believe them. That, or he'd think that he'd been dosed with something. Still, this is what's happening as McCoy pushes and prods, getting Jim to the nearest tree so he can shove him up against that rough bark, manhandling Jim's shirt until he can get his hands under, splayed at his back to keep Jim close at hand while they kiss and kiss and kiss some more.

"Y'know, I ran for Council once," he says breathlessly, easing back to get a breath in. "Professional rep. I lost because I wasn't pretty enough."

"What?" Jim gasps, scrabbling at the hem of Bones' shirt like the hands against his own have given him permission, unsatisfied until his fingers are spread against the smooth, warm skin of Bones' abdomen.

"That's crazy, that's - " Tucking his face beneath Bones' ear, Jim sets his lips to his throat. "What are they, blind?"

"Straight," he breathes out, pushing his torso forward into Jim's touch, his whole body arching into it. "Besides, my girlfriend won, so I couldn't be too upset. Otherwise I wouldn't have gotten laid for months," he murmurs, breathing in past the hot spikes of heat assaulting him care of Jim's lips. "I would've been a terrible rep. I'm too preoccupied with my own damn work."

"Smart," Jim mumbles into his stubble, "Strategy, good idea, but just so you know." Sliding his hand down the back of Bones' pants, Jim helps himself to a handful of pleasantly rounded backside, "I wouldn't be jealous. And I would definitely blow you under your councilly desk."

"Jesus," he hisses out, caught somewhere between admiration and shock at Jim's daring at copping a feel like that, right in the public eye. He's going a shade of red that looks better on roses than him, but soon enough, his body's quick to respond to all that touching with an eager 'yeah, and how about a little bit more?'

"Don't think medical representatives get desks," is all he musters out. "Still, if you win, I got plans for you, James T."

"Awesome," Jim breathes, "I like meeting goals, and that sounds promising, hey Bones?" He's blushing to the roots of his hair, and Jim can hardly stand it. "Bones, can we go home now? Or find a really thick bush?"

He hauls in a deep breath, trying to get himself right, but all that his brain's doing is sending his body signals that go along the lines of 'want more, want it now' and yeah, he's been keeping Jim at arm's length, not giving into the sex he wants just yet, but if Jim keeps it up, it's going to happen. "I'd offer to race you home, but I can barely walk right now," he says, all-too-casual given the fact that he's getting pretty goddamn hard.

Jim groans outloud, would reach to feel the truth of that right here and now, except, "We can't get me disqualified for indecent exposure before the vote even starts." Jim sighs, pressing his forehead to Bones' shoulder in an attempt to get ahold of himself. "Fuck, really want you, Bones."

"Shouldn't have jumped me in bed the week before elections, then," he says, even if he's lightheaded, even if wants this as much as Jim does, even if his hips are rocking forward, seeking out whatever friction he can steal away. He clamps his hand down on Jim's shoulder, yanking his hand out of the back of his pants. "C'mon, Captain, march. There's a perfectly good Compound not far away."

"Really?" Jim asks, letting Bones turn him towards the path. "We're really gonna - this is awesome." He sets off with gusto, one hand still fisted in Bones' shirt as if the man needs more motivation to get there. "Bathrooms? Broom closet?"

McCoy staggers to a stop because if they're going to do this, then one thing better be goddamn clear to Jim -- this isn't a quickie that they're going to sneak in between speeches and dinner. "Have you never been romanced in your whole damn life?"

"What?" Jim asks, slowing likewise to a bewildered stop. There's sex to be had, and a place to have it in, why on earth would they be stopping? "Bones," he says with an uncertain smile, "I'm not really the kind of guy you romance."

"You damn well are now," he replies, something like indignant fury burning in his eyes to hear that Jim thinks so little of himself. He crowds in on Jim's space, easing a hand to his cheek and backing him up to the nearest tree for a kiss that's all parts sweet and considerate and slow, a promise of what's to come. "We do this, we do this in a bed the first time."

"Oh," exhales Jim, understanding spreading over his face, along with an uncharacteristic blush. "So." His eyes soften with an innocence most would believe he no longer has any claim to, hands seeking an anchor against the solid weight of Bones' chest in front of him. First time implies so many things, and all of them good, even if Jim can't help the flutter in his stomach. "Not a quickie, then."

McCoy can't help leaning in to kiss that look right off his face, sliding his lips up to the blush on his cheeks with a fondness that he hopes speaks of how much he wants this to be good for Jim beyond a wham-bam-and-see-you-never. "Jim, it's never gonna be a quickie with me. I don't do 'em."

Jim slides his hands down Bones' chest, grips his sides to hide their sudden shake. "Then I guess I don't either," he says, eyes closed when Bones' lips find the crinkles of his eyes. Around him lately, Jim can't seem to stop grinning. It's a problem. "Not anymore."

McCoy takes the time to slide his fingers through Jim's hair, gently tugging his neck to the side so he can slide his lips in and so that the stubble of his cheek brushes against Jim's. "That doesn't mean that I'm not going to do incredibly filthy things to you on occasion," he points out, voice a low mumble. "Take you apart until you scream. Could be standing up. Could be in a broom closet, could be my hand under a tablecloth while you're surrounded by your goddamn friends, but it's never, not ever, never gonna be a quickie."

He eases back, smiling like he's talking to one of his patients. "Are we clear?"

Jim's quicksilver mind readily provides a steady stream of images as Bones murmurs in his ear, paints pictures so vivid he can practically feel the phantom hand slip into his jeans, words spreading like a touch over his skin and each one filthier than the last.

"Jesus," says Jim, eyes clouded when Bones draws back, smiles at him like he hasn't just come close to making Jim come in his pants in front of god and everyone. "You're gonna kill me," he pants, "I thought I'd be the one to - but no, it's you, that - that mouth should come with a warning label, Bones."

Hell, he's got himself going and he's only been trying to rile Jim up as best as he can, given that the man's done it his fair share of times. "Don't worry, Jim, you can take me apart plenty. Hell, you already have more times than you know."

And they're definitely not moving fast enough. He hooks his fingers into Jim's pants, tugging him along (but not before he steals one last searing kiss), sliding his arm around Jim's waist. "You don't even know how proud of you I am, though."