Dr. Leonard McCoy (
leftwithmybones) wrote2012-07-10 05:54 pm
saturday the 14th
He's not sure what it is that convinces him, but midway through the month, McCoy wakes up with Jim at his side breathing heavily and he thinks to himself: What the hell am I doing running around like a stressed idiot? It's the thought in mind as he takes hold of a towel, a bag with food, sunscreen, and other paraphernalia, and heads down to the little stretch of beach that's only a ten minute walk from their home. Sometimes, he forgets how nice it is to enjoy the small things. It's what he's doing now, lying on his back with sunglasses blocking out the UV rays.
So maybe Jim still doesn't remember and maybe he's got a full battery of patients and amnesia cases in his friends to worry about. All that will still be there in an hour. Right now? Right now, he just wants to relax.
So maybe Jim still doesn't remember and maybe he's got a full battery of patients and amnesia cases in his friends to worry about. All that will still be there in an hour. Right now? Right now, he just wants to relax.

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Stretching himself as best he can with one, Jim adds a second finger and closes his eyes, tries to imagine it's Bones dick opening him up, and already it's twice as much as he's ever taken. "It's - " he starts, a little unsteady, "It's a lot, already it's a lot. Wow," and opens his eyes to see Bones so close. "Remind me to take more time prepping you next time."
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The third doesn't go in, not just yet. "Tell me you really want this," he says, and McCoy's not entirely sure he's only talking about the sex.
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"I do," he says, pulling back, pupils blown as he gives an experimental rock against the fingers breaching him. He feels full, too much so and not enough, there's a pleasure beyond the burn of it and Jim wants more. "I really do, Bones, all of it, give it to me."
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Everything.
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"We're okay," he says, curling the hand not sticky with lube around Bones' neck to rest their foreheads together. "We're good, we're gonna stay good, we're - Bones." Jim's brain short circuits as those fingers crook deep, brushing a spot that lights up the backs of his eyes. Fucking prostate, Jim wants to wage wars for it, write sings and poems to it, wants to keep Bones' fingers right there forever, but he knows his dick will be even better. "Jesus."
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"I really think you should fuck me now, I'm ready, I'm - " Bones pushes those three fingers into him, and Jim sees stars, could almost come, but not without all of Bones. "So ready, want you so much."
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"Hold on," he berates, when Jim's impatience runs reckless and all McCoy wants to do is lean down and nip at Jim's lower lip, indulge in a slow and perfect kiss where he gets to have this instead of denying it of himself because Jim can't remember.
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"How do you want me?" he asks, voice a hell of a lot steadier than he feels. "On my back? Or hands and knees?" Leaning in, Jim presses a kiss to the base of Bones' throat, drags his nose along his neck until he can speak right in his ear. "Dealer's choice."
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"Been a while since I've had my ankles up by my ears," he says when he can bear to pull back, smile huge and nervous, but Jim's never trusted anyone more. "Good thing our sex life keeps me limber, huh?"
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Still, there's a little pushing to be done. He shoves him down onto the bed, parting his thighs forcibly and leaning down to press slow kisses up the inside of Jim's thigh, nipping enough to leave a small mark.
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"Bones," he murmurs, face a mix of concentration and lust as he lifts his head and tries to watch, lips quirking with a tease he hardly feels, he just needs to prove he's not all the way undone, not yet. "Unless your dick's gotten longer, m'pretty sure you can't fuck me from all the way down there."
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"Whatever you want, okay?" he says, tangling their legs. "They're gonna take my sex card away, but even kissing you feels amazing right now. So go as slow as you wanna, hell." His grin widens. "It'll be another first for me."
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"Feel like a baby on a changing table," he says, leaning up to kiss him, "but I bet you're about to distract me, huh?"
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