Fic: Star Trek Reboot: Contraband
Jul. 14th, 2009 09:19 pm![[personal profile]](http://s.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
garglingargoyleTitle: Contraband
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot
Pairing: McCoy/Kirk
Rating: Adult. NSFW.
Disclaimer: Characters don’t belong to me. No profit. Etc.
Summary: McCoy picks up a kitten on an away mission. Kirk thinks this is adorable. McCoy shows him just how “adorable” he can be.
Warnings: Spanking. A little bit D/s. Less than perfectly responsible topping behavior.
Word Count: 2798
Author’s Note: It’s Sheff’s fault. (When is it not?)
EDIT: to fix some wonky tenses in the beginning bit =p
It’s breaking every sort of regulation there is, but Bones scans the kitten with his tricorder before bringing it back on board and he’s sure she’s healthy. Getting her from the transporter room to his quarters is tricky—she doesn’t much like the specimen box he’s put her in, and he is sure Scotty hears when the tiny creature lets out a decidedly forbidden-transport-of-prohibited-animal
She clings to his uniform shirt when he first takes her out of the specimen box, and he lets out a yelp followed by a “Dammit, kit!” when her claws prick his skin. He manages to detach her from his uniform long enough to set her down on the spare pillow he’s put on the floor, and she sniffs at it while Bones keys a request for a bowl of tuna and a dish of milk into the replicator. He fears the food will be a little rich for the young cat, but he thinks maybe those with enough command clearance—Spock, Jim—could request replicator records and he’d just as soon “illicit-kitten food” doesn’t show up on his, should anyone be looking.
He sets the bowls on the floor and crouches to scritch the kitten behind the ears. She lets him, but after a second, she nips at his fingers. “Wretch,” he says, but there is little of his usual gruffness in his voice. She has moved off of the pillow, and he picks her up to set her back on it. She scurries off again immediately and sits with her back to it. Even on her tiny face, the look of disdain is clear. “Well, you’re not sleeping with me. I know your kind. Somehow you’d manage to take up the whole damned bed.” The kitten mews, and crawls up onto Bones’s arm, where she rubs her face against the fabric of his uniform. He detaches her again, pulls the uniform shirt over his head, and covers the pillow with it. The kitten paws at it, sniffs it, rubs her face on it, and mews. She turns once, then curls into a ball with her tail covering her nose. She’s not quite asleep—Bones can see her watching him through slitted eyes—but she’s given the pillow her approval now.
Bones removes the lid from the specimen box, lines the bottom from his supply of gauze, and sets the box in a corner. He’ll show her the box later—it won’t smell right, but hopefully she’ll get the idea. It’s an imperfect litter box solution altogether, and he’ll have to figure something better out, but it will do for now. The kitten is still pretending to sleep, so Bones settles onto his bed with a datapad to read some journal articles he’s been meaning to catch up on. Within minutes, the kitten has come to settle on his chest, and minutes after that, they are both sleeping fastly.
#
Whoever triggered the chimes on Bones’s door is halfway into his quarters before Bones even realizes he has company. He startles, but stops himself from sitting up when he realizes the kitten is still curled up on his chest. The datapad lies next to him on the bed, and Bones has just enough time to recognize that he’s really comfortable before he lifts his head and focuses on Jim Kirk, who is standing just inside Bones’s quarters, arms folded over his chest, smirking.
Bones lets his head fall back to the pillow. “Don’t you knock?”
Jim gestures at the door. “Chimes, Bones. I rang them. You didn’t answer, so I used my clearance.”
Bones scowls. “I think the sentiment remains then.”
Jim points at Bone’s chest. “Is that a cat?”
Bones tucks his chin and squints at the kitten on his chest. She squirms and rolls a bit in her sleep to show her belly. He reaches absently to pet her. “I believe it is an example of the species, yes.” He glares at Jim. “You’re not going to quote regs at me are you? Because, by god, Jim, the number of times you’ve broken some rule—”
“Relax, Bones. I trust you not to bring anything harmful onto the ship. Just, I dunno. We’ll have to hide it, and then make a notation in the log next time we visit a space station or something.” Jim moves further into the room. He’s still smirking, but there’s something else behind his eyes. Something softer. “I never had you pegged as an animal-lover, Bones.”
Bones shrugs. “She took to me. I couldn’t just leave her there. Living on the streets of that god-forsaken planet. What do you mean ‘we’?”
Jim shakes his head. “You look kind of adorable sleeping with your kitten. Sort of soft and snuggly.” It sounds like the kind of thing Jim would say to razz somebody, but there’s something off in his tone—it’s a little too serious, a little too surprised.
Bones snorts. “Did you want something, Captain?”
Jim sits on the edge of Bone’s bed. “I came to see your kitten.” He reaches to scritch the kitten under the chin and she eyes him, but tilts her chin so he has better access.
“How did you know?”
Jim is still petting the cat, but he’s looking at Bones, letting his gaze run from his CMO’s tousled hair to his broad chest in his black undershirt. “Scotty.”
Bones is halfway through some choice cursing of that drunken Scotsman when Jim moves his hand from the kitten to Bones’s shoulder and shifts so that he can press his lips to his friend’s. The kiss is gentle, almost tentative, and Jim pulls back after only a few seconds.
Bones narrows his eyes. “What are you doing, Jim?”
Jim straightens a little, mutters sorry, and Bones is willing to bet that is the first time Jim Kirk has ever apologized for kissing someone.
Jim says sorry again and Bones can’t decide if he’s more aroused or annoyed at Jim’s sudden shyness. Jim shifts as if to get up and Bones grabs his arm. “Where are you going?”
“I didn’t mean anything by it, Bones. Lying there, holding that cat, I just saw you a different way than I have before, you know? And you looked, I dunno. Safe.”
Bones loosens his grip on Jim’s arm. “Safe?”
Jim takes the opportunity to stand. “Like, nothing’s going to hurt that cat while she’s with you.” He shrugs. “Safe.”
Bones narrows his eyes, but he’s just thinking, not scowling. He tosses the datapad onto his night table, then sits up, cradling the kitten in his arms. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, settles the kitten on her pillow, then walks to the keypad by the door and types in the lock code.
Jim makes a move toward the door as Bones locks it. “I was just going. Try not to let the whole crew know about the cat, okay? Until we figure out how to make it look legit?”
Bones doesn’t say anything, just takes the two steps he needs to close the gap between them. Jim’s lips are forming a “what?” when Bones puts one hand on the back of Jim’s head and pulls him into a kiss. It takes a second, but Jim opens his mouth under Bones’s and lets the older man in. He tries to pull away after a moment, but Bones wraps his other hand around Jim’s waist and backs him up until they hit a wall. Jim lets out a little moan and Bones can feel his understanding of his captain and friend shifting. He’s thought of Jim as a lot of things over the years—genius, slut, commanding officer, brat—but he’s never thought of him as needy. Until now.
He deepens the kiss, pulling Jim’s head toward him a little more forcefully, letting more of his weight push Jim against the wall. Jim’s hands are everywhere now, tugging a bit at Bones’s hair, making their way under his shirt and along his back, trailing along the waist band of his uniform pants. Bones pulls Jim a few inches away from the wall then slams him back into it. He finds Jim’s hands and pins them to the wall above his head. He kisses him for a minute more, then pulls back, tugging lightly on Jim’s lower lip with his teeth as he does.
He finds Jim’s gaze with his own and holds it. “If we are doing this, these are the rules. You need to stop, you say ‘Quadrotriticale,’ and I stop. What do you say?”
Jim licks his lips, takes a quick breath. “Quadrotriticale.” He stumbles over the second syllable but keeps going, and Bones stifles a groan.
“You don’t touch; I touch. You leave your hands where I put them or I stop. If you need restraints to do that, you tell me now.”
Jim sucks in another breath, much shallower than the one a minute before. His fingers flutter above where Bones holds his wrists to the wall. “Yes. Restraints.”
Bones grins at Jim’s declining verbal skills and leans a little heavier against Jim’s wrists. “You come only when I tell you. Do you understand the rules?”
Jim nods.
Bones continues to hold Jim’s wrists with one hand, and runs the thumb of the other across Jim’s lips. Then he leans in for a softer, slower kiss. “Good. I’m going to let go. You will undress, fold each item of clothing, and lay them neatly on my chair. Then lie down on the bed on your stomach. Stretch your arms above your head. Don’t move.”
Bones watches Jim for a moment, then strips out of his own clothes, and leaves them in a pile on the floor. He opens the closet and pulls out the tie from his one civilian suit, then turns to the bed. Jim’s lying exactly as Bones told him to—on his stomach, arms stretched above him. In that pose, he’s too long for the bed, and Bones notes with a grin that Jim still had enough of his wits about him to position himself so that most of his body is on the bed—just his feet and his hands hang off the edges. Bones lays a hand lightly on Jim’s back, then reaches up to tie Jim’s wrists together with the necktie. There’s no way then to immobilize the wrists—Fleet-issue beds don’t come with good headboards—and he hopes Jim will be able to resist touching with just this reminder, because Bones doesn’t think he’ll have the heart to stop if Jim breaks the rules.
Bones runs his fingers lightly down the length of Jim’s spine, then lets them drift around to his sides. Jim hisses; his skin quivers. Bones does it again. Jim makes a small keening noise and turns to stifle it in his shoulder. Bones moves his hand to the small of Jim’s back and lets it rest there—maintaining contact but not really touching. “Don’t hold back. I want to hear you.”
Jim squeezes his eyes shut, but moves his head so that he’s no longer pressing his mouth into his shoulder. He lets out a slow breath that turns into a moan.
Bones leans over Jim then, and begins to mouth his way down Jim’s back. He alternates between kissing and biting and licking, and Jim is arching off of the bed. When Bones reaches Jim’s crease, he runs his tongue along it slowly, then parts Jim’s cheeks gently and laps at his entrance.
“God!” Jim pulls his hips forward away from Bones’s mouth, then pushes back again immediately. “Bones,” he says. “Please.”
Bones lifts his head, runs his hands along the plane of Jim’s shoulders and shushes him. He eyes Jim’s ass; it’s perfect really, and Bones wants nothing more than to smack it until it turns pink. There are scars on Jim’s back—just a few, here and there, and one runs halfway down Jim’s right cheek. Nothing about Jim suggests to Bones that he has ever been abused, that those scars are from anything but bar fights and over-enthusiastic combat training, but if this night has taught him anything, it’s that he doesn’t know all there is to know about Jim Kirk.
He leans in to lay a kiss at the small of Jim’s back, and uses Jim’s stutter and moan to help him zero in on Jim’s breathing before he pinches lightly at the top of the scar and draws his fingernails along the length of it. There’s nothing alarming about Jim’s breathing then—he’s not holding his breath or breathing much faster—and Bones curses himself for getting involved in this sort of thing without knowing more about his partner, but hopes he’s not wrong and that Jim will use the safeword if he needs it.
The first blow to Jim’s ass is light; it can hardly sting. Jim does stop breathing then, and if Bones had realized it a fraction of a second earlier, he might not have hit again. But he does, maybe just a little harder, and Jim groans. “Yes. Bones, yes.”
Bones goes faster then, hitting first one cheek then the other, first lightly, then harder, then lightly again. The skin is coming up pink and Jim is letting out these lovely soft moans every other stroke or so, and clutching at the edge of the bed. When Jim starts to thrust erratically into the mattress, Bones hauls on Jim’s hips and pulls him onto his hands and knees. Bones lands a few more blows to Jim’s ass, then grinds his cock against Jim while he reaches around Jim’s waist. He brushes Jim’s cock gently with his fingers, then grasps it firmly and begins to stroke in time with the way his hips thrust his own cock against Jim’s ass.
Jim lifts his head and whispers, “Close, Bones. Please.”
Bones had almost forgotten that he would have to give Jim permission to come and a strange pride in Jim’s ability to remember it sends him over the edge as he says, “Come with me, Jim.”
Jim half-screams as he comes, and Bones thinks that something’s still holding him back. But he collapses onto the bed on his side, and pulls Jim down with him. He plants light kisses on the back of Jim’s neck as he pulls at the knot in the tie at Jim’s wrists, then he spoons up behind Jim, throws an arm over him, and hopes Jim is content to lie there for a few minutes because he’s not sure he can move.
#
Later, Bones and Jim are lying next to one another on the bed. Jim’s lying on his stomach, his head resting on his forearms, Bones’s kitten lying on his back between his shoulder blades. Bones lies next to him, propped up on one elbow, petting the cat. “I didn’t think you knew what I meant,” Jim says softly.
“It took me a minute. I had to rethink a lot of what I thought I knew about you. But I got there.” Bones chuckles. “You hide it well, Captain.”
“Not anybody’s business really, is it?”
Bones arches an eyebrow. “That’s a bit rich coming from you. You slept with half of our entering class before the end of the first semester. And everybody knew it.”
Jim shrugs. “That’s just sex, Bones. This is, well. I’m more picky about who knows this about me.”
“Probably wise. Though I’d say your doctor might be a good person to start with. If you’re letting people throw you around.”
Jim looks up at Bones. “Not people. You’re the first since before the academy. I just got into fights instead.”
“How’d that work for you?”
Jim smiles, then closes his eyes. “Not very well.”
The two men are quiet for a while then, and Bones thinks Jim’s fallen asleep when Jim asks, without opening his eyes, “Would you do it again?”
Bones starts to reach for Jim, wants to smooth his fingers through Jim’s hair. He stops when Jim speaks again. “Just once in a while?”
Bones pulls his hand back. “If that’s what you want.” He thinks he sees a frown pulling at Jim’s lips at that, but Jim nods his head against his arms. “Yes, please.”
Bones resumes his petting of the kitten. “Then, yes. Just let me know what you want.”
Jim shifts a bit against the mattress, lets out a long breath, and seems to settle. “Thanks, Bones.”
“Mmhm.” Bones puts his head down on his pillow and arranges his arm so that he’s sort of cradling the kitten and holding Jim at the same time. And he watches while Jim sleeps.
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot
Pairing: McCoy/Kirk
Rating: Adult. NSFW.
Disclaimer: Characters don’t belong to me. No profit. Etc.
Summary: McCoy picks up a kitten on an away mission. Kirk thinks this is adorable. McCoy shows him just how “adorable” he can be.
Warnings: Spanking. A little bit D/s. Less than perfectly responsible topping behavior.
Word Count: 2798
Author’s Note: It’s Sheff’s fault. (When is it not?)
EDIT: to fix some wonky tenses in the beginning bit =p
It’s breaking every sort of regulation there is, but Bones scans the kitten with his tricorder before bringing it back on board and he’s sure she’s healthy. Getting her from the transporter room to his quarters is tricky—she doesn’t much like the specimen box he’s put her in, and he is sure Scotty hears when the tiny creature lets out a decidedly forbidden-transport-of-prohibited-animal
She clings to his uniform shirt when he first takes her out of the specimen box, and he lets out a yelp followed by a “Dammit, kit!” when her claws prick his skin. He manages to detach her from his uniform long enough to set her down on the spare pillow he’s put on the floor, and she sniffs at it while Bones keys a request for a bowl of tuna and a dish of milk into the replicator. He fears the food will be a little rich for the young cat, but he thinks maybe those with enough command clearance—Spock, Jim—could request replicator records and he’d just as soon “illicit-kitten food” doesn’t show up on his, should anyone be looking.
He sets the bowls on the floor and crouches to scritch the kitten behind the ears. She lets him, but after a second, she nips at his fingers. “Wretch,” he says, but there is little of his usual gruffness in his voice. She has moved off of the pillow, and he picks her up to set her back on it. She scurries off again immediately and sits with her back to it. Even on her tiny face, the look of disdain is clear. “Well, you’re not sleeping with me. I know your kind. Somehow you’d manage to take up the whole damned bed.” The kitten mews, and crawls up onto Bones’s arm, where she rubs her face against the fabric of his uniform. He detaches her again, pulls the uniform shirt over his head, and covers the pillow with it. The kitten paws at it, sniffs it, rubs her face on it, and mews. She turns once, then curls into a ball with her tail covering her nose. She’s not quite asleep—Bones can see her watching him through slitted eyes—but she’s given the pillow her approval now.
Bones removes the lid from the specimen box, lines the bottom from his supply of gauze, and sets the box in a corner. He’ll show her the box later—it won’t smell right, but hopefully she’ll get the idea. It’s an imperfect litter box solution altogether, and he’ll have to figure something better out, but it will do for now. The kitten is still pretending to sleep, so Bones settles onto his bed with a datapad to read some journal articles he’s been meaning to catch up on. Within minutes, the kitten has come to settle on his chest, and minutes after that, they are both sleeping fastly.
#
Whoever triggered the chimes on Bones’s door is halfway into his quarters before Bones even realizes he has company. He startles, but stops himself from sitting up when he realizes the kitten is still curled up on his chest. The datapad lies next to him on the bed, and Bones has just enough time to recognize that he’s really comfortable before he lifts his head and focuses on Jim Kirk, who is standing just inside Bones’s quarters, arms folded over his chest, smirking.
Bones lets his head fall back to the pillow. “Don’t you knock?”
Jim gestures at the door. “Chimes, Bones. I rang them. You didn’t answer, so I used my clearance.”
Bones scowls. “I think the sentiment remains then.”
Jim points at Bone’s chest. “Is that a cat?”
Bones tucks his chin and squints at the kitten on his chest. She squirms and rolls a bit in her sleep to show her belly. He reaches absently to pet her. “I believe it is an example of the species, yes.” He glares at Jim. “You’re not going to quote regs at me are you? Because, by god, Jim, the number of times you’ve broken some rule—”
“Relax, Bones. I trust you not to bring anything harmful onto the ship. Just, I dunno. We’ll have to hide it, and then make a notation in the log next time we visit a space station or something.” Jim moves further into the room. He’s still smirking, but there’s something else behind his eyes. Something softer. “I never had you pegged as an animal-lover, Bones.”
Bones shrugs. “She took to me. I couldn’t just leave her there. Living on the streets of that god-forsaken planet. What do you mean ‘we’?”
Jim shakes his head. “You look kind of adorable sleeping with your kitten. Sort of soft and snuggly.” It sounds like the kind of thing Jim would say to razz somebody, but there’s something off in his tone—it’s a little too serious, a little too surprised.
Bones snorts. “Did you want something, Captain?”
Jim sits on the edge of Bone’s bed. “I came to see your kitten.” He reaches to scritch the kitten under the chin and she eyes him, but tilts her chin so he has better access.
“How did you know?”
Jim is still petting the cat, but he’s looking at Bones, letting his gaze run from his CMO’s tousled hair to his broad chest in his black undershirt. “Scotty.”
Bones is halfway through some choice cursing of that drunken Scotsman when Jim moves his hand from the kitten to Bones’s shoulder and shifts so that he can press his lips to his friend’s. The kiss is gentle, almost tentative, and Jim pulls back after only a few seconds.
Bones narrows his eyes. “What are you doing, Jim?”
Jim straightens a little, mutters sorry, and Bones is willing to bet that is the first time Jim Kirk has ever apologized for kissing someone.
Jim says sorry again and Bones can’t decide if he’s more aroused or annoyed at Jim’s sudden shyness. Jim shifts as if to get up and Bones grabs his arm. “Where are you going?”
“I didn’t mean anything by it, Bones. Lying there, holding that cat, I just saw you a different way than I have before, you know? And you looked, I dunno. Safe.”
Bones loosens his grip on Jim’s arm. “Safe?”
Jim takes the opportunity to stand. “Like, nothing’s going to hurt that cat while she’s with you.” He shrugs. “Safe.”
Bones narrows his eyes, but he’s just thinking, not scowling. He tosses the datapad onto his night table, then sits up, cradling the kitten in his arms. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, settles the kitten on her pillow, then walks to the keypad by the door and types in the lock code.
Jim makes a move toward the door as Bones locks it. “I was just going. Try not to let the whole crew know about the cat, okay? Until we figure out how to make it look legit?”
Bones doesn’t say anything, just takes the two steps he needs to close the gap between them. Jim’s lips are forming a “what?” when Bones puts one hand on the back of Jim’s head and pulls him into a kiss. It takes a second, but Jim opens his mouth under Bones’s and lets the older man in. He tries to pull away after a moment, but Bones wraps his other hand around Jim’s waist and backs him up until they hit a wall. Jim lets out a little moan and Bones can feel his understanding of his captain and friend shifting. He’s thought of Jim as a lot of things over the years—genius, slut, commanding officer, brat—but he’s never thought of him as needy. Until now.
He deepens the kiss, pulling Jim’s head toward him a little more forcefully, letting more of his weight push Jim against the wall. Jim’s hands are everywhere now, tugging a bit at Bones’s hair, making their way under his shirt and along his back, trailing along the waist band of his uniform pants. Bones pulls Jim a few inches away from the wall then slams him back into it. He finds Jim’s hands and pins them to the wall above his head. He kisses him for a minute more, then pulls back, tugging lightly on Jim’s lower lip with his teeth as he does.
He finds Jim’s gaze with his own and holds it. “If we are doing this, these are the rules. You need to stop, you say ‘Quadrotriticale,’ and I stop. What do you say?”
Jim licks his lips, takes a quick breath. “Quadrotriticale.” He stumbles over the second syllable but keeps going, and Bones stifles a groan.
“You don’t touch; I touch. You leave your hands where I put them or I stop. If you need restraints to do that, you tell me now.”
Jim sucks in another breath, much shallower than the one a minute before. His fingers flutter above where Bones holds his wrists to the wall. “Yes. Restraints.”
Bones grins at Jim’s declining verbal skills and leans a little heavier against Jim’s wrists. “You come only when I tell you. Do you understand the rules?”
Jim nods.
Bones continues to hold Jim’s wrists with one hand, and runs the thumb of the other across Jim’s lips. Then he leans in for a softer, slower kiss. “Good. I’m going to let go. You will undress, fold each item of clothing, and lay them neatly on my chair. Then lie down on the bed on your stomach. Stretch your arms above your head. Don’t move.”
Bones watches Jim for a moment, then strips out of his own clothes, and leaves them in a pile on the floor. He opens the closet and pulls out the tie from his one civilian suit, then turns to the bed. Jim’s lying exactly as Bones told him to—on his stomach, arms stretched above him. In that pose, he’s too long for the bed, and Bones notes with a grin that Jim still had enough of his wits about him to position himself so that most of his body is on the bed—just his feet and his hands hang off the edges. Bones lays a hand lightly on Jim’s back, then reaches up to tie Jim’s wrists together with the necktie. There’s no way then to immobilize the wrists—Fleet-issue beds don’t come with good headboards—and he hopes Jim will be able to resist touching with just this reminder, because Bones doesn’t think he’ll have the heart to stop if Jim breaks the rules.
Bones runs his fingers lightly down the length of Jim’s spine, then lets them drift around to his sides. Jim hisses; his skin quivers. Bones does it again. Jim makes a small keening noise and turns to stifle it in his shoulder. Bones moves his hand to the small of Jim’s back and lets it rest there—maintaining contact but not really touching. “Don’t hold back. I want to hear you.”
Jim squeezes his eyes shut, but moves his head so that he’s no longer pressing his mouth into his shoulder. He lets out a slow breath that turns into a moan.
Bones leans over Jim then, and begins to mouth his way down Jim’s back. He alternates between kissing and biting and licking, and Jim is arching off of the bed. When Bones reaches Jim’s crease, he runs his tongue along it slowly, then parts Jim’s cheeks gently and laps at his entrance.
“God!” Jim pulls his hips forward away from Bones’s mouth, then pushes back again immediately. “Bones,” he says. “Please.”
Bones lifts his head, runs his hands along the plane of Jim’s shoulders and shushes him. He eyes Jim’s ass; it’s perfect really, and Bones wants nothing more than to smack it until it turns pink. There are scars on Jim’s back—just a few, here and there, and one runs halfway down Jim’s right cheek. Nothing about Jim suggests to Bones that he has ever been abused, that those scars are from anything but bar fights and over-enthusiastic combat training, but if this night has taught him anything, it’s that he doesn’t know all there is to know about Jim Kirk.
He leans in to lay a kiss at the small of Jim’s back, and uses Jim’s stutter and moan to help him zero in on Jim’s breathing before he pinches lightly at the top of the scar and draws his fingernails along the length of it. There’s nothing alarming about Jim’s breathing then—he’s not holding his breath or breathing much faster—and Bones curses himself for getting involved in this sort of thing without knowing more about his partner, but hopes he’s not wrong and that Jim will use the safeword if he needs it.
The first blow to Jim’s ass is light; it can hardly sting. Jim does stop breathing then, and if Bones had realized it a fraction of a second earlier, he might not have hit again. But he does, maybe just a little harder, and Jim groans. “Yes. Bones, yes.”
Bones goes faster then, hitting first one cheek then the other, first lightly, then harder, then lightly again. The skin is coming up pink and Jim is letting out these lovely soft moans every other stroke or so, and clutching at the edge of the bed. When Jim starts to thrust erratically into the mattress, Bones hauls on Jim’s hips and pulls him onto his hands and knees. Bones lands a few more blows to Jim’s ass, then grinds his cock against Jim while he reaches around Jim’s waist. He brushes Jim’s cock gently with his fingers, then grasps it firmly and begins to stroke in time with the way his hips thrust his own cock against Jim’s ass.
Jim lifts his head and whispers, “Close, Bones. Please.”
Bones had almost forgotten that he would have to give Jim permission to come and a strange pride in Jim’s ability to remember it sends him over the edge as he says, “Come with me, Jim.”
Jim half-screams as he comes, and Bones thinks that something’s still holding him back. But he collapses onto the bed on his side, and pulls Jim down with him. He plants light kisses on the back of Jim’s neck as he pulls at the knot in the tie at Jim’s wrists, then he spoons up behind Jim, throws an arm over him, and hopes Jim is content to lie there for a few minutes because he’s not sure he can move.
#
Later, Bones and Jim are lying next to one another on the bed. Jim’s lying on his stomach, his head resting on his forearms, Bones’s kitten lying on his back between his shoulder blades. Bones lies next to him, propped up on one elbow, petting the cat. “I didn’t think you knew what I meant,” Jim says softly.
“It took me a minute. I had to rethink a lot of what I thought I knew about you. But I got there.” Bones chuckles. “You hide it well, Captain.”
“Not anybody’s business really, is it?”
Bones arches an eyebrow. “That’s a bit rich coming from you. You slept with half of our entering class before the end of the first semester. And everybody knew it.”
Jim shrugs. “That’s just sex, Bones. This is, well. I’m more picky about who knows this about me.”
“Probably wise. Though I’d say your doctor might be a good person to start with. If you’re letting people throw you around.”
Jim looks up at Bones. “Not people. You’re the first since before the academy. I just got into fights instead.”
“How’d that work for you?”
Jim smiles, then closes his eyes. “Not very well.”
The two men are quiet for a while then, and Bones thinks Jim’s fallen asleep when Jim asks, without opening his eyes, “Would you do it again?”
Bones starts to reach for Jim, wants to smooth his fingers through Jim’s hair. He stops when Jim speaks again. “Just once in a while?”
Bones pulls his hand back. “If that’s what you want.” He thinks he sees a frown pulling at Jim’s lips at that, but Jim nods his head against his arms. “Yes, please.”
Bones resumes his petting of the kitten. “Then, yes. Just let me know what you want.”
Jim shifts a bit against the mattress, lets out a long breath, and seems to settle. “Thanks, Bones.”
“Mmhm.” Bones puts his head down on his pillow and arranges his arm so that he’s sort of cradling the kitten and holding Jim at the same time. And he watches while Jim sleeps.
And it is about time that someone give Jim Kirk a spanking. Honestly.
You's my hero. *luffs*
Thank you for committing this to writing. ♥♥♥
<3
Glad you enjoyed.
That image is utterly devastatingly gorgeous. What a beautiful story this is, for all its hotosity.
How are you doing?
Bones arches an eyebrow. “That’s a bit rich coming from you. You slept with half of our entering class before the end of the first semester. And everybody knew it.”
Jim shrugs. “That’s just sex, Bones. This is, well. I’m more picky about who knows this about me.”
Great and believable - YES! :)
Thanks for reading!