leftwithmybones | (no subject)

(no subject)

At the time, it'd seemed like a good idea. They're in some strange fantasy that's made up of moments in his head, they're home, but not home, so why shouldn't he capitalize on the fact and pack a couple bags in the night so he can whisk Jim away to Iowa and the dry-docks. If this is his head, he'll want to make Jim happy and if that's the case, then the Enterprise ought to be in there for repairs.

What he did not prepare for was the fact that even though this is in his head, his goddamn aviophobia hasn't vanished. He's currently sitting in one of the seats in the shuttle, head between his knees and breathing so hard that he thinks he'll never breathe a deep breath again. In short form: he's going to throw up and it'll be the shuttle company's fault for not letting him do it in the bathroom. Another lurch and McCoy groans heavily, sinking even further forward, like he's attempting to melt into the floor.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"God," Jim breathes, following to bracket him against the chair, "You're hot when you want it, you know that?" Palming Bones' dick, Jim rolls it gently against his stomach. "Over the side, sure. Or maybe the back, where we can look at the stars."

"I want you all the time, I just don't want to have a relationship based purely on sex," he grunts, making the decision before Jim even gets the chance, draping his forearms over the back of Jim's chair and cocking his hip out as he juts his ass out.

"Explains why you're hot all the time," Jim says, surveying his presented view with a pleased smile. He smooths a hand down Bones' flank and over the curve of his ass, squeezing lightly when he bends and kisses his nape. The lube is still in his other hand, but Jim doesn't uncap it just yet, kissing slowly down the length of Bones' back instead.

"It's a mixture of lust for you and sheer rage at all the incredibly idiotic things you do, like date me," he murmurs, folding his arms over the chair and leaning his chin into the folded pillow they provide. "Your mouth feels good," he praises lazily.

"Good," Jim murmurs, enjoying himself, mouthing slowly over the rich swell of his ass. It's a ridiculously nice ass, far better than regulation Starfleet pants deserve, and Jim resolves to get Bones into more worn jeans when they get back to the island.

Kneeling now, Jim smooths his hands over Bones' cheek and notes, "Could feel even better, you know."

"Hmm?" he murmurs, peering over his shoulder at where Jim's kneeling and making no moves to start screwing him over the captain's chair like he's wanted to. "How's that?"

"Could show you," Jim replies, spreading Bones with his thumbs, pressing the slick, blunt tip of one right against his hole. "You'd have to trust me."

"I'm a doctor, Jim," he growls. "I know pretty much every single thing that people do when it comes to sex. Gay sex, alien sex, straight sex," he continues sharply. "And..." He hisses, back arching. "And I know what you're doing."

"I trust you. I do."

"Well then," Jim chuckles, licking a stripe that ends in a wet swirl around Bones' hole, "Congrats on your anal education, doctor. Now hold on." Spreading Bones further, Jim eases in slowly, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses that end with a bite to Bones' left cheek, his tongue soothing the mark after. He keeps his thumb firm at Bones' hole, pressing in time with each stroke of his tongue.

"Is this one of the fantasies?" he asks, wanting to watch Jim the whole time he does this. He rests his chin on his shoulder, biting his lip to keep back the lecture about hygiene because hell, he'd do anything for Jim and he'd let Jim do anything to him.

He just has to make sure Jim doesn't figure that out.

"Is now," Jim grunts around a mouthful of Bones' skin, who's still far too coherent for his liking. Moving his thumb, Jim replaces it with his tongue, licking carefully around Bones' entrance before plunging his tongue inside.

He wants to say something, but the urge to buckle forward is too great. All he can do is manage to stay standing and try and ensure that Jim doesn't give him such a good ride with his tongue that he collapses; not this early. "Holy fuck," he gets out, a choked cry.

Jim grins, rewarding Bones with a quick nip to his unmarked cheek. It's been a long time since he ate someone out, especially a male someone, but Jim remembers well enough, not shy about getting as close as he can to Bones and stabbing deep, as rhythmic as he soon intends to be with his dick.

He grips at the chair and lets out a short hiss, trying not to let himself go completely blank. He wants to last for this, wants to make sure he can give Jim some of what he's offering, but at this rate, he's going to be jelly. "Holy hell, Jim, don't ever tell me how many other people you did this for."

"Should be happy I had the practice," Jim gasps when he pulls back, out of breath and jaw aching, but he doesn't stop, easing a finger into Bones' loosening hole, soothing the sting with his tongue when he adds another.

It's tempting to let loose a string of profanity, but since Jim's doing such a nice thing for him, he figures he ought to maybe behave for the night or something. He hisses when Jim adds another finger, bucking his hips forwardly unconsciously before easing them back for more friction. "Gonna make a mess of your chair, Captain."

"You want that?" Jim asks, leaning back to watch his fingers disappear into Bones' body, face a picture of intense concentration and want. "Wanna come all over my nice, comfy Captain's chair right now, Bones? Or do you want to wait for when I bend you over and fuck you?"

He's halfway to sobbing out the words like a good shade of a pathetic man driven to the edge of abandon by his boyfriend. "Later," he manages. "Bend me over, fuck me, I want to come then. Then, want you to fill me up," he begs, rocking forward with both hands on the chair.

Bones sounds half way to fucked out already, voice rough and thick with that accent that curls Jim toes. He groans, drizzling some lube onto his hand before adding a third finger, reaching deep to crook all three against Bones' sweet spot. "When do you want me to fuck you, Bones?" he asks, stroking ruthlessly over it.

"What are you, deaf? Thick?" he lashes out, reaching back to try and speed things up, but all he accomplishes is a slow stroke of fingers over Jim's wrist. "Now, god damn it. I want you right now."

Jim would laugh, but he's too turned on, leaving his fingers in Bones when he stands up, mouths roughly at the juncture of Bones' throat. "Just like to hear you say it," he breathes, twisting his fingers once last time before he pulls them out, grabs his cock to slick it and press it to Bones' hole. "Be loud, huh? Wanna hear you."

"Trust you to get off on nearly-exhibitionist sex," he moans out the words, but the majority of them are lost to the ravages of a pleased groan, leaning into Jim's mouth and swearing softly under his breath when Jim pushes into him. "Yeah," he coaxes. "Like that. God, Jim!"

"Barely even started," Jim groans back, but he's so turned on his hands are shaking, fingers gripping Bones' sides hard and possessive to pull him back onto his dick. "Fuck, you're tight," he sighs, and Bones always is when they start, even after Jim has fingered him open. Tight and so impossibly hot, Jim can't get enough of him, probably never will.

"You built me up for this," he mutters in reply, grunting when Jim pulls him back and letting out a hissed moan at the way it opens him up to new feelings and yeah, there's some pain in there, but he can't really think too hard about that when he's focusing on all the good pleasure bits.

Jim holds steady, letting Bones' body adjust, but he can't stay still for long. Bones feels too good, and Jim bites at his nape, wraps his palm against the spot after to push Bones down, bending him over.

"So hot like this, Bones," Jim pants, hands tight over Bones' wrists to hold them against the arms of the chair, keep him steady when Jim pulls back and fucks in hard.