leftwithmybones | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's strange to have a reminder on the island of what there used to be. He's happy with his current life, happy as hell. He's got Jim, he's got a good thing going, but then there's Madelyne walking around and while he's got no intention of wooing her, it's hard to see her. It's a picture-perfect (nearly) reminder of Jean and every once in a while, it catches him off guard. Sometimes, when he calls Jim 'darling', it sticks on the tip of his tongue and he remembers doing the same with Jean.

Hell. He still remembers that the first time he and Jean had sex was right after Jim vanished the first time. Today's one of those days -- nostalgia days, as he's starting to call them -- and though he's at the Winchester to pick up Jim from after his shift, he's wound up staring at Madelyne (who's at a distance), and trying not to let himself get overwhelmed with history.

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Jim grabs Bones' hand and pulls it down again, tangling their fingers together over his head. "You look damn intense just doing paperwork," he says, leaning up to kiss both his eyebrows. "It's the way you arch these things."

"You're the one who gives them a workout," he says, but his words are swallowed up by the kisses he's busy giving Jim, tightening his grasp on the fingers entwined with his own. There's something like a happy sigh in his breath as he curls in tighter than before. "I hate paperwork. I didn't become a doctor so I could drown in triplicate."

"Don't have to tell me," says Jim, swinging a leg over Bones' hips. "I thought being captain would mean non-stop adventure, but it's at least sixty percent reports and logs. You know what, when we get back, let's make the ready room makeout stop number one, I need some better memories of that place."

"That's only because you turned into a responsible and hard-working captain who's realized how much paperwork running a ship filled with departments is," he murmurs. "Plus, you don't delegate near enough," he points out, while snaking his fingers over Jim's neck slowly to pull him in. "A yeoman could help with half of that work." Not that he uses any help, but he only worries about one department.

"Can't," Jim murmurs, eyes closing as he leans up for a particularly deep kiss, breathless when he breaks away again. "Secret perfectionist. But being relentlessly awesome at everything has its benefits."

"You can, you choose not to," McCoy feels compelled to point out, but his words are breathy as hell, his hair standing up on end, and there's a flush in his cheeks. It's too damn warm in the house, suddenly, and he shifts to yank the blue regulation shirt off, leaving him in the black undershirt, shooting Jim a warning look. "It's hot, not your doing."

"Besides, you've got flaws too, darlin'."

Edited 2012-09-11 14:18 (UTC)

"Sure, but even my flaws are awesome," Jim replies, and he can't see Bones with his hair on end without kissing him, has to roll up and then climb on top of him and kiss him again. "If getting a boner every time you call me darlin' can even be considered a flaw."

"That's not my fault, that's just good breeding kicking in," McCoy says as he slides both hands up Jim's cheeks to clasp him tight. "Be a sweetheart for me and unzip my boots, Captain. With your teeth, if you'd be so kind." Why they're practically to his knee, he'll never know because he doesn't want the migraine of asking Starfleet.

Jim exhales a laugh and nips Bones' bottom lip. "Think I won't?" he asks, sliding down Bones' body to take an ankle in hand, pulling Bones' legs with him over the side of the bed. Dropping onto his knees, Jim smirks up at Bones from the floor before he bends his neck, nudging the head of the zipper with his nose to make it stand upright and gripping it between his teeth.

He inhales so sharply that he worries he might just choke on the damn breath, but Jim's actually doing what he'd only been teasing about and hell, but he's not sure his dick is ready to withstand this. "Jesus," he groans. "Jim, you're gonna kill me, I swear to god."

Focused on his task, Jim hums in reply, tugging down and down, dropped onto hands and knees before he reaches the heel. "One down," he says, lifting just high enough to ease Bones' boot off and away. Discarding it, he keeps a hand wrapped loose around his ankle, rubbing with his thumb. "Same treatment for your pants?"

Edited 2012-09-12 03:30 (UTC)

He's a little hazy, but he's aware that his boot's off and Jim's asking about something else -- his pants, he thinks. "I ever mention you're possibly the best boyfriend I've ever had," he offers, a bit strangled, but overly fond. "Shit," he murmurs. "Love you for that alone."

McCoy does manage to sit up slightly, reaching out with both hands to grab hold of Jim's shoulders, hauling him back up. "Know what I want to do in the ready room? Get behind that desk of yours and see if I couldn't make you lose your top while you took meetings."

"On these knees?" Jim asks, grinning and tickling the tops of them with his fingertips. "You know, that sounded like capitulation to me. You relaxing your 'no sex in public' rule?"

He winces, a knee-jerk (yeah, he's aware how punny that is) reaction in the making as he twitches away from Jim. "If you made a single sound, you wouldn't have gotten laid in weeks, so I'm failing to see what's so public about you doing paperwork while getting real pleasurable attention."

"I see," says Jim, gripping his knee more firmly this time, fingers trailing up a strong length of thigh. "And I think I can abide that definition. And furthermore, I think we need to test it in one of our offices without delay."

He doesn't fidget this time because he doesn't want to get away. Instead, he shifts and slots their bodies together, making the best pouting face he can to somewhat tease Jim. "You're always full of good ideas," he murmurs. "Your genius mind's running a million miles an hour and you overlook the simple things."

"To be fair," Jim replies with a gasp, hitching their hips together closer still, "When it comes to my big ideas where you're concerned, my blood is usually far, far away from my brain."

"Not always," he argues, since he's still in denial about the first three years and change of their friendship. Then, Jim's bright ideas during the Academy had been far, far from it. He slips his fingers between their bodies, grabbing hold of Jim's hip to give him leverage as he rocks his hips forward. "Hell, Jim, if we were doing this on a ship, Starfleet would try and get me kicked off your bridge ASAP."

"Wouldn't dare," Jim manages, eyes closed as Bones' body slides against his just right, pleasure sparking along his every nerve. "I'd tell Pike, Bones, we gotta get - we need to get substantially more naked."

"I'd pay to see the look on his face when you said that," he quips, but he's instantly arching his back in a graceful arc, wrapping his legs around Jim's waist to lock on there as he takes the black undershirt off, throwing it across the room, scrabbling with clumsy fingers to make Jim's shirt do the same.

Jim helps, or tries to, halfway to tearing it before he gets the damn thing over his head. "Pants, too," he urges, rolling Bones onto his back and ducking down before he can be stopped, slowing only when he has Bones' zipper in his mouth and on its way down.

Dizzy with the sight of it, McCoy shifts until he's got his hand up to grab at the headboard, hips arching upwards now that he's in nothing more than a pair of black socks and the tight black boxer-briefs that're definitely not Starfleet issued. "Goddamn overly attractive sex fiend," he bitches, but he's grinning like an idiot as he does.

"You love it," Jim replies, coming back up with a grin that breaks apart with a groan when he sees Bones. "Fuck, that's hot, keep gripping the headboard," he exhales, palming Bones through his briefs. "Make you a deal," he says and squeezes, "You don't let go of the headboard, I don't stop blowing you."

"Sounds like a great deal to me," he admits breathlessly, shifting his other hand. He crosses his arms at the wrists, fingers splayed as he grabs hold of the headboard and refuses to let go of it. From here, it's easy because he wants that blowjob more than he wants nearly anything else. "Shit," he gasps. "Hurry it up, will you?"

"Patience," Jim breathes, even though he feels damn impatient himself, staring down at Bones' every muscle stretched taut with wanting. Crawling up his body, Jim presses a kiss to the tip of his nose and reiterates, "Don't let go," both hands around Bones' ribcage when he ducks his head and sucks a nipple into his mouth.