Star Trek XI: Tender is the touch
Title: Tender is the Touch
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine. :(
Warnings: Plot? WHAT. PLOT. With a dash of H/C as a thinly veiled cover.
Summary: Quick + dirty comment pr0n for jim_and_bones (viewable here), which provided some very... inspirational prompts.
"Suck," Jim said calmly, no room for argument in the cool, almost calculating blue of his eyes. His fingernails scraped the inside of McCoy's cheek and his fingers tasted of salt and sweat, rough against his tongue.
McCoy's vision blurred and he choked on a moan as Jim slowly began to pump. Something flickered in Jim's otherwise calm face as McCoy grazed his teeth along the pads of his fingers, dragged his tongue between the knuckles.
"Fuck," Jim hissed, eyes fixed to the stretch of Leonard's mouth, and with a clench of his jaw he swiveled his hips, wrenching a grunt from McCoy and loosening his muscles til his head hit the carpet and he briefly saw stars. Couldn't imagine how he must look under the measured sweep of Jim's eyes as the man slowly rode him - unraveled on the floor with his neck bared, face flushed and lips stretched around the intrusion of fingers. Insane how Jim could do that, fuck himself on McCoy's cock and then make him feel like the one getting spread open, taken apart, owned.
Jim's hand settled like a brand over his ribs, pinning his torso down as his hips moved in another torturously slow circle. McCoy's hand clutched at the warm skin of Jim's hip, nearly biting clean through those sliding fingers as he tried not to snap his hips up and fuck Jim the way he wanted. Jim needed this, whether he was willing to ask for it or not - needed this sense of control, real and physical in the palm of his hands. The Klingon ships may have been simulated, the wounded crew part of a script, but McCoy nonetheless saw the flash of panic and shock on Jim's still face as the test powered down and the lights came back on.
So with a stuttered, muffled gasp, McCoy forced his muscles to relax, one by one, shuddered helplessly as his sweaty back molded to the carpet and Jim began to ride him in earnest.
"Shit," Jim hissed, "Bones, look at you, you're - ungh -" He cut off as a flush crept up his neck and his mouth parted on a breath, his full lips shining with saliva in the dim light. Jim's eyes widened the smallest fraction, still staring at the slide of his fingers into McCoy's yielding mouth.
"Fuck!" Jim gasped, losing his rhythm completely as he clenched around McCoy, hot as a vise, curling forward as if his orgasm was being punched out of him. His teeth found the junction of McCoy's neck and shoulder, sinking in, and the sharp flare of sensation shot straight through Leonard's cock until his back arched off the floor and he was sure something would snap. He came with his nails scraping down Jim's back and his hoarse yell muffled by fingers nearly jammed down his throat.
Jim was shuddering against him, full weight settled over his chest and squeezing the air from his lungs, when McCoy drifted back into himself. He smoothed his hands up the long line of Jim's back, gentle over the raised marks he felt there, and pressed his sore lips gently against the crown of Jim's head as arms curled at his sides, clinging.
"Shhh," Leonard said softly, "You got me."
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine. :(
Warnings: Plot? WHAT. PLOT. With a dash of H/C as a thinly veiled cover.
Summary: Quick + dirty comment pr0n for jim_and_bones (viewable here), which provided some very... inspirational prompts.
"Suck," Jim said calmly, no room for argument in the cool, almost calculating blue of his eyes. His fingernails scraped the inside of McCoy's cheek and his fingers tasted of salt and sweat, rough against his tongue.
McCoy's vision blurred and he choked on a moan as Jim slowly began to pump. Something flickered in Jim's otherwise calm face as McCoy grazed his teeth along the pads of his fingers, dragged his tongue between the knuckles.
"Fuck," Jim hissed, eyes fixed to the stretch of Leonard's mouth, and with a clench of his jaw he swiveled his hips, wrenching a grunt from McCoy and loosening his muscles til his head hit the carpet and he briefly saw stars. Couldn't imagine how he must look under the measured sweep of Jim's eyes as the man slowly rode him - unraveled on the floor with his neck bared, face flushed and lips stretched around the intrusion of fingers. Insane how Jim could do that, fuck himself on McCoy's cock and then make him feel like the one getting spread open, taken apart, owned.
Jim's hand settled like a brand over his ribs, pinning his torso down as his hips moved in another torturously slow circle. McCoy's hand clutched at the warm skin of Jim's hip, nearly biting clean through those sliding fingers as he tried not to snap his hips up and fuck Jim the way he wanted. Jim needed this, whether he was willing to ask for it or not - needed this sense of control, real and physical in the palm of his hands. The Klingon ships may have been simulated, the wounded crew part of a script, but McCoy nonetheless saw the flash of panic and shock on Jim's still face as the test powered down and the lights came back on.
So with a stuttered, muffled gasp, McCoy forced his muscles to relax, one by one, shuddered helplessly as his sweaty back molded to the carpet and Jim began to ride him in earnest.
"Shit," Jim hissed, "Bones, look at you, you're - ungh -" He cut off as a flush crept up his neck and his mouth parted on a breath, his full lips shining with saliva in the dim light. Jim's eyes widened the smallest fraction, still staring at the slide of his fingers into McCoy's yielding mouth.
"Fuck!" Jim gasped, losing his rhythm completely as he clenched around McCoy, hot as a vise, curling forward as if his orgasm was being punched out of him. His teeth found the junction of McCoy's neck and shoulder, sinking in, and the sharp flare of sensation shot straight through Leonard's cock until his back arched off the floor and he was sure something would snap. He came with his nails scraping down Jim's back and his hoarse yell muffled by fingers nearly jammed down his throat.
Jim was shuddering against him, full weight settled over his chest and squeezing the air from his lungs, when McCoy drifted back into himself. He smoothed his hands up the long line of Jim's back, gentle over the raised marks he felt there, and pressed his sore lips gently against the crown of Jim's head as arms curled at his sides, clinging.
"Shhh," Leonard said softly, "You got me."