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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Part of Jim isn't ready to give up Bones' mouth, but he sounds so pleased, Jim would have caved to the hopeful note in his voice long before he caved to his own curiosity. Opening his eyes, Jim looks up, blue eyes filled up in an instant with stars.

"Wow," he exhales, winding his arms around Bones' waist without looking away from them. "Must've looked up at them a hundred times since I got here, but..." But it hadn't felt like this.

It takes McCoy a second to remember he's looking upwards. He figures he's got an excuse given that Jim's eyes are like a galaxy of their own, burning away like that. "Figured we ought to get as close to space as we could for this or I'd never hear the end of your 'what if we'd done it's," he murmurs, easing comfortably into Jim's touch.

"Are you saying I'm never satisfied?" Jim asks, looking down again with a smile. "Because as I recall, you did the trick pretty well the other day." Tucking his nose beneath Bones' ear, Jim looks beyond him to the little palette he's made up and grins wider. "Better pull up the ladder."

"I'm saying you're always looking to your next mission, and don't tell me that's not untrue," he cuts Jim off before he can even get a word in edgewise, swallowing thickly when Jim stays nestles in right where he is. "You do it, I put together the goddamn show."

"And now you want a show?" Jim hums, slapping Bones' ass as he pulls away. "If you wanted me to bend over, all you had to do was ask," he says as he does just that, gripping the ladder by the top and levering it heavily upwards. Once it's up, Jim lays it carefully on the roof, ass lingering in the air far longer than is necessary.

McCoy laughs, aware that he's acting like an idiot, but Jesus, Jim's got a beautiful ass and McCoy feels like if he's looking at it for much longer, he needs to be touching it. "Darling, there's clothes in the way," McCoy says, arching a brow. "Can't appreciate it."

"I've noticed that about you doctors," says Jim as he straightens, returning to Bones and yanking him in close by his belt loops. "Especially surgeons, very hands on."

Like he's been summoned to do it, he slides his palms over Jim's ass and comfortably gets settled while pressing kisses up and down Jim's neck, closing his eyes as he tries to memorize that feel of Jim's soft skin against the tip of his nose, brushing against the hints of stubble every now and again. "Get on the ground so I can stop being so gentle, will you?"

Jim's just getting into the slow rock of their bodies together, knee inching between Bones' own and ass cradled promisingly in his hands, but at that command he shivers. "You're hot when you're ordering me around, you know that?" he asks as he pulls away, keeping Bones' hand in his for the short trip to the palette. Sinking onto his knees, Jim asks, "Anything else I can do for you, Doc?"

He lets out a sharp breath, telling himself that he had a plan in all this that didn't involve losing every last thought the minute that Jim sunk down to his knees and put thoughts in McCoy's head that won't be banished. He's hard as hell and he groans as he follows, pinning Jim on his back and straddling him in a hurry, even though it'll make stripping a hell of a lot harder.

Jim grunts for the sudden weight across his middle, but it feels good, comfortable in a way that only promises to get better. Slung over his body, Bones' ass is just brushing his rapidly swelling dick, and Jim hums as he rolls his hips beneath him. "What?" he asks, "You afraid I'm gonna go somewhere?"

"I'm always afraid you're gonna go somewhere," he says honestly, easing back enough to pull off his shirt and stare down at Jim fondly before he cups his cheek. "Run off to some other spit of land or with someone better looking. Guess old habit's hard to break."

"Run from this?" Jim asks, leaning into the touch to his cheek even as he reaches, hands spread appreciatively against the sudden shock of warm, bare skin above him. "Not gonna happen, Bones. Not possible."

"That's a promise I'm gonna hold you to, Jim," he insists, breathing into a kiss as he turns his lips to steal one away, propping himself on the weight of one knee so he can loosen Jim's pants, pushing the shirt up and letting his fingers splay over all that warm skin beneath him. "So, here's the deal," he says. "You gave a great speech and did a great job today, ergo, you're gonna screw me."

Jim squeezes his eyes closed with a groan, goes from hard to aching in an instant from that simple missive alone. Surging up on an elbow, he grabs Bones' face and kisses him like he means to eat him, panting, "Is there a romantic way to say fuck yes?"

He's close to letting out those little keening noises that are embarrassing as fuck, so he hauls off, panting raggedly as he stares up at Jim. "Seems to me, smartest thing to do would just be to romantically haul my pants down."

"Get the hell down here," Jim returns, grabbing Bones by the hips as he rolls, getting the other man firmly beneath him. He pulls his own shirt off in record time, eyes bright and hair mussed when he reemerges, and pulls back to work on Bones' pants with shaking hands. "Fuck," he mutters when his fingers miss the clasp for the third time. "Come on."

"Hey," McCoy murmurs, shushing and soothing best as he can. The last thing he needs is for Jim to get so crazed that he's shaking and he feels like they're getting worriedly close to that kind of thing. He reaches down and slides his hands into Jim's, nudging each button slowly loose, together. "I'm holding you to your word. You're not running. No matter how bad this gets."

"Would you stop trying to curse our sex life before it's even started?" Jim replies, pushing Bones' hands out of the way as soon as his fly is open and plunges his hand directly down his pants. He finds Bones' cock immediately, so hard and hot already that the kiss he means to plant on Bones' lips collapses into a groan. Stroking once, Jim breathes into his mouth, "Trust me, I'll make this good."

"Might have had a performance issue or two I didn't mention, fuck," he swears, given that he's got other things to worry about instead of talking, why the hell is he even bothering to think? "Jim," he gives a plaintively and broken cry. "God damn it."

Jim hums, licking the long column of Bones' throat as his head rolls back. "Can't think your way out of an erection if you're too turned on to make words," he murmurs in his ear, hands braced on either side of his body to crawl downwards. Eager, Jim kisses over the broad plane of Bones' chest, nips at the soft skin at his side, tugs his pants down to tongue along the sharp dip beneath his hip bone. "Don't think, Bones," he says, all the warning he gives before taking Bones' cock in hand. Normally he'd stop to tease, show some fucking finesse, but Jim deems it wisest to just get Bones right out of his mind. "Just don't think," he murmurs, and swallows him down in one go.

His world goes spotted, white, and then vanishes in one easy go, the stars all that he can see in his eyes as he tips his head back, eyes glazing over. When he comes to sense, he sees constellation after constellation and starts to see what Jim likes about these things. There's small gasps, though, of sheer pleasure as he fumbles with a hand, reaching out desperately to find Jim and anchor onto him.

"You keep that up, I'm never thinking again," he warns hoarsely.

Jim reaches for that fumbling hand, clasps it inside his own before he moves it to his hair, encouraging Bones' fingers to tangle there. Content now that Bones' erection isn't going anywhere, Jim slows, lets himself enjoy the fullness in his mouth, the drag of Bone's thick cock across the flat of his tongue when he pulls back, the tang of precum on the head when he plunges down again. Leisurely, Jim begins to bob, eyes locked upward to catch every gasp and moan that racks Bones' expression.

There's about a thousand words that've been used over the years to describe what it is that Jim's doing to him, but none of them apply, as far as he's concerned. Jim's perfect and he's better than anyone he's ever had before (not hard when Jocelyn only did this every so often and his memories are steeped in bitterness). Still, he wants to remember this for the good, wants to experience it without the past clouding in, so he closes his eyes and stops thinking.

Which is about the time he really starts enjoying, face going slack with bliss.

Jim sees the very moment Bones lets go, gives himself over, and his own dick throbs in reply. "Fuck, baby," he says, pulling off to jack him steadily, hand slick with his own spit, "You look so good like this, want to do this every day, wake you up every morning, send you to bed every night with my mouth around your dick."

Crawling up, Jim kisses him hard, hand still stroking steadily. "What do you want, huh?" he asks, turning Bones' face with his nose to mouth at his ear. "You want to come in my mouth? Or do you want to wait until I'm inside of you?"