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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"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."

Jim lets himself be tugged, mouth still tingling when Bones slides a warm arm around his waist. Finding he can't bear to see the path ahead when he could be watching Bones instead, Jim shifts, walking sideways. "Worth the running right there," he says, leaning in to kiss the lobe of Bones' ear.

Well, there's those shivers going down his spine. He inhales sharply, praying out loud that the Compound's going to magically turn up in view sooner rather than later, tightening his grip on Jim. "Need to start wooing you," he mutters grumpily, like it's something he's got to put on a to-do list.

"Bones, I'll make it easy," Jim laughs, "By being easy. Only thing I need is you to be in the mood, though I wouldn't say no if you brought me home a starship. Or just stretched me out beneath the stars." He waggles his brows. "I like the view from below."

There it is again. McCoy swears that Jim is aiming to get smacked on the back of his head. "You're not fucking easy. Not anymore," he grunts, trying to get his anger under control before he does something stupid. Still, now he does have an idea and he twists his lips upwards, wondering if anyone would notice if -- "Hey, tell you what. Grab a blanket. I'll grab a blindfold."

"What?" Jim laughs again, pushing a hand back into Bones' pocket in a way that doesn't hinder their steps. He is a genius after all. "I thought we were finding a bed, now we're having a blindfold picnic?"

At this rate, they're going to end up groping each other and indulging in some heavy frottage on the Compound's steps. "Get your damn blindfold so I can get things ready without you knowing every single detail," he gripes, given that Jim has a habit of being too damn nosy. "We're still getting a bed. Trust me."

"You just told me to get the blanket." Jim musses Bones' hair before he bounds up the steps. "It's like you're not thinking with your upstairs brain or something," he adds with a cheeky smile, then disappears in the direction of the laundry room before the other man can start swinging.

"Forgive me, but someone's got me thinking with my dick. The fact that I'll still vertical is a damn..." he trails off, since Jim's gone wandering away. "...miracle," he sighs, heading for the laundry to get supplies -- lube, condoms, enough blankets and some pillows before he nudges them to the side, gesturing for the blindfold.

All Jim's managed to find is a tie, but in his own happy experience, a tie can be garment, blindfold, and binding all in one. "Found one with stars on it," he says, grinning as he holds it out. "And one with dancing penguins, but I opted for class."

McCoy shakes his head as he takes the tie and lightly turns Jim by the shoulder, brushing his thumb over Jim's earlobe as he gets the blindfold securely on. "Now, you wait here." He grabs the things he's managed to find, climbing to the top of the roof and setting up supplies, ducking back to the kitchen for wine and something and a couple candles before setting up the blankets and pillows just enough to keep them comfortable before he ambles his way to the laundry room.

"Hope you didn't think I bolted on you," he says, grabbing Jim by the hips in order to slowly march him upstairs.

"Not really," Jim lies, having experienced a few harrowing moments with other visitors to the Compound, including the presence of a little blond girl he could just see dancing about his knees around the edge of the blindfold. While well used to kink, including blindfolds, Jim's not quite so used to being left this vulnerable in public, and there's still a faint blush staining his cheeks when Bones returns. "Pretty sure I've cemented myself as resident pervert though," he says as Bones steers him upwards. "So I guess the status is still quo."

McCoy subdues his grin as he keeps his hands on Jim's hips, easing him up the stairs with guiding words every single inch of the way. "Slowly now, darling," he coaxes, heading outside and placing Jim's hands on the ladder. "Now, climb, and don't act smug since you probably know where we're going."

"The roof?" Jim asks, and heights have never bothered him, but there's something about climbing blind that makes his stomach swoop. Still, he trusts Bones beneath him, and climbs as he's been asked, swaying uncertainly on solid ground once he's reached the top. "Where are you?" he asks with a grin, hands out in front of him.

"Unless you know another place with stairs outside the Compound," he replies, feeling like he's earned the right to be a little bit of a smartass, for once. He nudges his thumb in behind the blindfold to loosen it slightly, taking the opportunity to press a kiss to the nape of Jim's neck. "M'right here."