Business As Usual, Part Two Point Five: Reminiscence
A/N: This isn't chapter three of Business as Usual. I wasn't going to write anything tonight because it's late and I'm sort of hungover from celebrating my freedom from exams earlier today. But doandtell pleaded with me to write some more of the fic, and it had to be Kirk/Bones, so I said I'd write a drabble and it came out as more than a drabble.
This is chapter 2.5 of Business as Usual. Chapter 3 comes out tomorrow and will be Bones/Chekov.
Fandom: Star Trek
Series: Business As Usual (tagged as 'whorefic')
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, prostitution
Summary: Jim remembers the first time they fucked, and wishes it was still as simple as that.
Part One is here.
This wasn't what he'd expected when he stumbled into the whorehouse on his 25th birthday, drunk and unhappy and wanting someone who knew what they were doing and wouldn't expect anything of him other than hard cash. He'd very nearly gone for the Russian, but the whiskey had put him in a harsh mood and the rough, unshaven man lounging in the corner had caught his eye. He looked like he could take a good fucking, would probably snarl and grunt and push back on him, give Jim a decent ride for his money.
And then he'd taken the guy upstairs, kissed him, loving the sandpaper scratch of stubble against his lips, the clash of teeth and, fuck, he actually growled when Jim slammed him up against a wall. He'd pulled him in close, ground their erections together and shoved him back against the wall just to hear him growl a second time.
Clothes had been shed, Jim had taken a second to appreciate the man's firm buttocks and the thick head of his cock, and he'd suddenly found himself being pulled down onto the bed. The whore - Leonard - seemed to know what he needed, didn't waste time on foreplay, just slicked himself up and pulled Jim onto his cock in one, hard, breath-taking thrust.
Jim had been given about five seconds to adjust, and then he was rolled over and shoved into the mattress and fucked tp within an inch of his life. His brain never got time to catch up; it was stuck on how good it felt to finally have a cock up his ass again, and how this particular cock was amazing; just the right length and thick enough to stretch Jim out real good, and when his thoughts finally did catch up with reality, it was only to note that it would be really nice if he did that again, oh God, right there.
Then there had been a hand around his cock, and the long, slender fingers that thumbed the vein on the underside of his shaft and tightened around the head, squeezing the soft tissue, were not what he'd expected. But he didn't get to dwell on this for long, because the whore twisted inside him and fuck, that was his sweet spot again, and he was coming his brains out all over this nice clean bedding. Whoever did the laundry in the whorehouse must get paid a hell of lot.
“Murrrrh,” he'd groaned as the whore, as Leonard pulled out of him and flopped onto the bed beside him, breathing heavily. It took Jim a second to catch the fact that he hadn't come, and he wasn't fucking having that because, whore or no whore, Jim Kirk always satisfied his lovers.
The man had made a noise of protest that Jim had ignored in favour of tugging at his cock with one hand and grabbing his balls with the other. Leonard had squeezed his eyes shut, grabbed the headboard and rode Jim's hand, grunted heavily as he came and then looked up at Jim with reproach and reluctant appreciation.
He knew he shouldn't have, but he hadn't been able to resist leaning down and kissing those half-pouting, half-snarling lips. It was too tender for a casual fuck; it was the first step down the slippery slope that led them to the situation they were in now, but he couldn't bring himself to regret kissing the grumpy look off of Leonard McCoy's face.
They'd dressed, Jim had ran down the stairs and flirted with the woman behind the bar, who he discovered was the owner of the place. By the time Leonard had showered and joined him downstairs, Jim had almost got himself slapped by Uhura, Gaila had already fallen in love with him and he was in the process of leaving a massive tip.
He'd pulled Leonard in for another kiss before he left, not certain that he was really allowed but hoping that he'd understand this was Jim's way of showing his gratitude. He earned himself another low growl, so he guessed he must've got his point across OK. He'd left in the best mood he'd had for a long time, smelling of sweat and whiskey and cheap body spray.
That had been six months ago. Jim stroked a hand through the hair of the man he held close to him and checked his watch; they had five minutes left. Leonard shifted in his embrace, and Jim knew that he wouldn't let their time run on a minute longer. Neither of them knew what the fuck their professional relationship had mutated into, but Jim sometimes wished he could go back to that first, hot, no-strings-attached fuck and not worry about the fact that he had, in all probability, fallen in love with a whore.
“Time's up,” Leonard said hoarsely, and Jim knew that he wished that too.
This is chapter 2.5 of Business as Usual. Chapter 3 comes out tomorrow and will be Bones/Chekov.
Fandom: Star Trek
Series: Business As Usual (tagged as 'whorefic')
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, prostitution
Summary: Jim remembers the first time they fucked, and wishes it was still as simple as that.
Part One is here.
This wasn't what he'd expected when he stumbled into the whorehouse on his 25th birthday, drunk and unhappy and wanting someone who knew what they were doing and wouldn't expect anything of him other than hard cash. He'd very nearly gone for the Russian, but the whiskey had put him in a harsh mood and the rough, unshaven man lounging in the corner had caught his eye. He looked like he could take a good fucking, would probably snarl and grunt and push back on him, give Jim a decent ride for his money.
And then he'd taken the guy upstairs, kissed him, loving the sandpaper scratch of stubble against his lips, the clash of teeth and, fuck, he actually growled when Jim slammed him up against a wall. He'd pulled him in close, ground their erections together and shoved him back against the wall just to hear him growl a second time.
Clothes had been shed, Jim had taken a second to appreciate the man's firm buttocks and the thick head of his cock, and he'd suddenly found himself being pulled down onto the bed. The whore - Leonard - seemed to know what he needed, didn't waste time on foreplay, just slicked himself up and pulled Jim onto his cock in one, hard, breath-taking thrust.
Jim had been given about five seconds to adjust, and then he was rolled over and shoved into the mattress and fucked tp within an inch of his life. His brain never got time to catch up; it was stuck on how good it felt to finally have a cock up his ass again, and how this particular cock was amazing; just the right length and thick enough to stretch Jim out real good, and when his thoughts finally did catch up with reality, it was only to note that it would be really nice if he did that again, oh God, right there.
Then there had been a hand around his cock, and the long, slender fingers that thumbed the vein on the underside of his shaft and tightened around the head, squeezing the soft tissue, were not what he'd expected. But he didn't get to dwell on this for long, because the whore twisted inside him and fuck, that was his sweet spot again, and he was coming his brains out all over this nice clean bedding. Whoever did the laundry in the whorehouse must get paid a hell of lot.
“Murrrrh,” he'd groaned as the whore, as Leonard pulled out of him and flopped onto the bed beside him, breathing heavily. It took Jim a second to catch the fact that he hadn't come, and he wasn't fucking having that because, whore or no whore, Jim Kirk always satisfied his lovers.
The man had made a noise of protest that Jim had ignored in favour of tugging at his cock with one hand and grabbing his balls with the other. Leonard had squeezed his eyes shut, grabbed the headboard and rode Jim's hand, grunted heavily as he came and then looked up at Jim with reproach and reluctant appreciation.
He knew he shouldn't have, but he hadn't been able to resist leaning down and kissing those half-pouting, half-snarling lips. It was too tender for a casual fuck; it was the first step down the slippery slope that led them to the situation they were in now, but he couldn't bring himself to regret kissing the grumpy look off of Leonard McCoy's face.
They'd dressed, Jim had ran down the stairs and flirted with the woman behind the bar, who he discovered was the owner of the place. By the time Leonard had showered and joined him downstairs, Jim had almost got himself slapped by Uhura, Gaila had already fallen in love with him and he was in the process of leaving a massive tip.
He'd pulled Leonard in for another kiss before he left, not certain that he was really allowed but hoping that he'd understand this was Jim's way of showing his gratitude. He earned himself another low growl, so he guessed he must've got his point across OK. He'd left in the best mood he'd had for a long time, smelling of sweat and whiskey and cheap body spray.
That had been six months ago. Jim stroked a hand through the hair of the man he held close to him and checked his watch; they had five minutes left. Leonard shifted in his embrace, and Jim knew that he wouldn't let their time run on a minute longer. Neither of them knew what the fuck their professional relationship had mutated into, but Jim sometimes wished he could go back to that first, hot, no-strings-attached fuck and not worry about the fact that he had, in all probability, fallen in love with a whore.
“Time's up,” Leonard said hoarsely, and Jim knew that he wished that too.