fic; "In The Event That This Ride Stops, PLEASE REMAIN SEATED."
So, someone posted the following prompt at buckleup_meme:
Jim takes Bones to an amusement park after hours (maybe they're trespassing, or maybe Jim knows the owner) and fucks Bones on the roller coaster. Powerbottom!Jim, is preferred but not necessary. I'm not really sure where this came from, but I doubt I'll get the image out of my head until its filled.
Bonus:
Dirty/quick, with clothes mostly still on
Since Jim can't top and be buckled in at the same time, Bones has to hold him down so he doesn't fall.
...you can kind of guess what my reaction was, right?
In The Event That This Ride Stops, PLEASE REMAIN SEATED. Our Staff Are Aware And Are Dealing With The Problem
“...this really isn’t working out how I’d imagined.”
“Well how in hell did you think it was gonna work? That all you’d have to do would be to press a button, and the whole damn thing would start working?”
“I was hopeful,” Jim says forlornly, and stares at the control panel in front of him that’s covered in buttons and misspelled labels. There are three screens on the wall, and a large board with symbols and zones and alarms, and two large red emergency stop buttons.
There is also a switch that requires a key, and the whole cabin is determinedly dark and switched off.
“Can we go home now that your plan has failed so spectacularly?” McCoy asks, but Jim has pulled a hair grip from his pocket and is busy bending it out of shape and trying to force it into the switch, the headlamp strapped to his skull bobbing merrily and casting strange shadows around the small room.
“Dude, we climbed up the station to get here, I’m not giving up that easily,” Jim says vehemently, swinging his head around to glare at him, and McCoy swears and reels back as he gets the full force of five LEDs burning into his corneas. “Just let me work my magic.”
McCoy flails an arm in his direction and steps back out of the room and away from the light and control panel. The station is partially undercover but the moon is bright, and the rollercoaster trains are clearly visible, and clearly stationary and offline. He climbs over the gate to get a closer and pointedly ignores the thump from the operating cabin that implies Jim’s kicked something.
“Is there a reason why we broke into a theme park at night instead of just coming during the day like normal people?” he raises his voice, peering at the shoulder-restraints, and the sudden light show that explodes behind him signals Jim’s exit from the cabin. “I mean seriously, even if you had the key to the damned ride, you would have no idea how to operate it.”
“I’m a fast learner,” Jim protests, coming to stand alongside him. “I bet it wouldn’t be too hard either.”
“Have you given up?”
“The hair grip snapped inside the switch.”
“Ah.”
The theme park is eerily silent and dark and empty around them, and Jim’s original plan is blatantly not going to happen, but McCoy feels reluctant to leave just yet. There was far too much effort involved in getting to the ride than he’s willing to ignore.
“I’m guessing you were wanting to have sex on the rollercoaster. We can just pretend that it’s going around and do it anyway?”
Jim looks at him with a grin that says I knew there was a reason why I chose you to annoy and pester and infuriate with endless energy on a regular basis, and then switches off his headlamp and looks down at the train. Then frowns.
“Man, that looks really fucking uncomfortable,” he says, but a quick glance down shows that he’s still very interested by the idea. His face is contorting between several different expressions and he looks on the brink of making his first sensible decision of the month, so McCoy grabs him by his arms and pushes him down into one of the seats. He shouts out in pain as he lands awkwardly, but his jaw snaps shut as McCoy straddles him. It really is uncomfortable, and his knees are banging against the side of the seats, but he goes straight for Jim’s fly as he crushes their lips together in the sort of kiss that he feels is appropriate for having sex on a (non-functional) rollercoaster.
Jim gets into the swing of things fairly quickly and cooperates remarkably well, pulling McCoy’s jeans down over his hips and sliding down in the seat so that they can position themselves slightly better. It’s one of the quickest preparations that McCoy’s ever encountered but Jim seems to have caught onto the atmosphere of the experience, and has whipped out lube and a condom from one of his many and ever-equipped pockets, and McCoy’s cock answers correctly at the insistent slip-slide of fingers inside him, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as he rolls the condom down Jim’s cock.
And it’s quick and dirty and just how they sometimes like it, and Jim pushes inside probably a little sooner than he should and it’s a burn and sting and fuck yes, and his hands are tight on McCoy’s hips as he slams up into him. It’s still an extremely uncomfortable position and McCoy’s jeans are bunched and slightly in the way, but he grabs Jim and kisses him anyway, his hips rolling and lifting and there, Jim’s never had a problem finding just that spot before and just because the situation is slightly bizarre doesn’t mean that he’s any less competent in making McCoy moan.
There must be a very well-hidden exhibitionist lurking somewhere inside McCoy because he can feel the coil and clench sooner than he’d expected, and Jim’s mouthing at his collarbones and grunting, fucking him with a single-minded determination. McCoy starts to tug on his own cock as Jim’s rhythm suddenly stutters and falters and stalls, and his grip tightens almost painfully as he comes, and his face is dark in the station but McCoy can still see his eyes squeezed shut as he rides it out. And then he releases one hip, now-free hand grabbing at McCoy’s cock and overlapping his own hand as he helps bring him off.
McCoy lets him take over, allows the practiced hand to do its job and Jim strikes up a quick motion, a flick and a twist and a thumb and there, and McCoy can feel his muscles all spasm and his jaw drops open in a silent shout, and yes, and he reaches up to hold onto something for leverage as he empties himself, and -
The shoulder restraints lurch downwards with a CRANK-CRANK-CRANK and they both freeze in panic, and McCoy’s eyes widen as he finds his forehead pressed quite suddenly, and quite painfully, against the headlamp still attached to Jim’s with the restraints still tightly gripped in his hands and pressed down firmly on the back of his neck.
Jim manages to keep a straight face for about ten seconds, then cracks up and bursts out laughing, and doesn’t help as McCoy tries in vain to push back against the restraints. They’re locked down in position and are holding McCoy doggedly with no apparently intention of letting him move away, and the whole position is incredibly awkward because not only are they on possibly the most uncomfortable rollercoaster in the whole country, but Jim’s cock is still twitching weakly inside him and there’s come all over their shirts.
“Well I’m glad that you think this is hilarious,” he snaps, but Jim is too busy crying to say anything useful. To be fair, McCoy will probably find it equally amusing in a few day’s time, but right now he’s more bothered about extricating himself from the whole mess. Jim releases his hip as he performs an awkward and ungraceful maneuver to separate the two of them, then shimmies his body down and under the restraints without falling backwards over the front of the train.
“I didn’t even get to enjoy that,” he grouches, climbing off the train and glaring at Jim, who’s still boneless and giggling. “I’m pretty sure all of the pleasure normally associated with an orgasm just leaked straight out into the come. That’s my happy feeling, all over your chest. I hope you’re satisfied.”
“Oh man, this way the best idea ever,” Jim gasps, and McCoy kicks his foot half-heartedly as he cleans himself off and zips his jeans back up.
“This was a terrible idea. Come on, you miscreant. And careful not to pull it down any further or you’ll never get out.”
Jim takes a deep breath then removes the condom and flings it wildly over his shoulder into the bushes by the side of the station, and cheerfully ignores McCoy’s glare as he accepts the proffered tissue and sorts himself out. McCoy is tempted to push the restraint down himself. It’ll be just their luck that someone finds the condom and does a DNA test on it.
“We ought to do that again sometimes,” Jim says mildly as he clambers from the train. “But next time, I’ll steal the key. Might as well do it properly. Oh god, can we come back tomorrow? I want to see the attendant’s face when they find this mess in the morning,” Jim cackles, and McCoy casts him a reproving glance and dutifully wipes down the seat.
“You’re a nightmare. I bet they have security cameras.”
“Hey, I was all set to go, you were the one who pushed me down and had his way with me!” Jim protests, somewhat gleefully, and flicks his headlamp on. McCoy finds himself rubbing at his own forehead, where the imprint of the headlamp is no doubt stamped for the next few hours.
“Put it down to a horrific lapse in judgment,” he retorts, and follows Jim as he climbs down the station opening and drops down to the floor below. “I’m never going to be able to bring Joanna here now. I certainly can’t take her on that ride.”
“Just sit in a different car.”
“I’ll probably get a hard-on regardless.”
“I’ll sort it out for you. This is your first step to public sex, Bones. There’s no middle stages. We’re going all out next time. We can get an on-ride photo! We can frame it. Or better yet, make holiday cards out of it.”
“I hate you.”
***
(pee ess - OTS restraints.)
...
...I took a leaf out of canis_takahari's book and stuck The Lonely Island on whilst writing. I think that it shows.
THIS IS WHY I NEVER WRITE PORN. I CAN'T WRITE PORN. IT JUST DOESN'T HAPPEN.
/flail
Jim takes Bones to an amusement park after hours (maybe they're trespassing, or maybe Jim knows the owner) and fucks Bones on the roller coaster. Powerbottom!Jim, is preferred but not necessary. I'm not really sure where this came from, but I doubt I'll get the image out of my head until its filled.
Bonus:
Dirty/quick, with clothes mostly still on
Since Jim can't top and be buckled in at the same time, Bones has to hold him down so he doesn't fall.
...you can kind of guess what my reaction was, right?
In The Event That This Ride Stops, PLEASE REMAIN SEATED. Our Staff Are Aware And Are Dealing With The Problem
“...this really isn’t working out how I’d imagined.”
“Well how in hell did you think it was gonna work? That all you’d have to do would be to press a button, and the whole damn thing would start working?”
“I was hopeful,” Jim says forlornly, and stares at the control panel in front of him that’s covered in buttons and misspelled labels. There are three screens on the wall, and a large board with symbols and zones and alarms, and two large red emergency stop buttons.
There is also a switch that requires a key, and the whole cabin is determinedly dark and switched off.
“Can we go home now that your plan has failed so spectacularly?” McCoy asks, but Jim has pulled a hair grip from his pocket and is busy bending it out of shape and trying to force it into the switch, the headlamp strapped to his skull bobbing merrily and casting strange shadows around the small room.
“Dude, we climbed up the station to get here, I’m not giving up that easily,” Jim says vehemently, swinging his head around to glare at him, and McCoy swears and reels back as he gets the full force of five LEDs burning into his corneas. “Just let me work my magic.”
McCoy flails an arm in his direction and steps back out of the room and away from the light and control panel. The station is partially undercover but the moon is bright, and the rollercoaster trains are clearly visible, and clearly stationary and offline. He climbs over the gate to get a closer and pointedly ignores the thump from the operating cabin that implies Jim’s kicked something.
“Is there a reason why we broke into a theme park at night instead of just coming during the day like normal people?” he raises his voice, peering at the shoulder-restraints, and the sudden light show that explodes behind him signals Jim’s exit from the cabin. “I mean seriously, even if you had the key to the damned ride, you would have no idea how to operate it.”
“I’m a fast learner,” Jim protests, coming to stand alongside him. “I bet it wouldn’t be too hard either.”
“Have you given up?”
“The hair grip snapped inside the switch.”
“Ah.”
The theme park is eerily silent and dark and empty around them, and Jim’s original plan is blatantly not going to happen, but McCoy feels reluctant to leave just yet. There was far too much effort involved in getting to the ride than he’s willing to ignore.
“I’m guessing you were wanting to have sex on the rollercoaster. We can just pretend that it’s going around and do it anyway?”
Jim looks at him with a grin that says I knew there was a reason why I chose you to annoy and pester and infuriate with endless energy on a regular basis, and then switches off his headlamp and looks down at the train. Then frowns.
“Man, that looks really fucking uncomfortable,” he says, but a quick glance down shows that he’s still very interested by the idea. His face is contorting between several different expressions and he looks on the brink of making his first sensible decision of the month, so McCoy grabs him by his arms and pushes him down into one of the seats. He shouts out in pain as he lands awkwardly, but his jaw snaps shut as McCoy straddles him. It really is uncomfortable, and his knees are banging against the side of the seats, but he goes straight for Jim’s fly as he crushes their lips together in the sort of kiss that he feels is appropriate for having sex on a (non-functional) rollercoaster.
Jim gets into the swing of things fairly quickly and cooperates remarkably well, pulling McCoy’s jeans down over his hips and sliding down in the seat so that they can position themselves slightly better. It’s one of the quickest preparations that McCoy’s ever encountered but Jim seems to have caught onto the atmosphere of the experience, and has whipped out lube and a condom from one of his many and ever-equipped pockets, and McCoy’s cock answers correctly at the insistent slip-slide of fingers inside him, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as he rolls the condom down Jim’s cock.
And it’s quick and dirty and just how they sometimes like it, and Jim pushes inside probably a little sooner than he should and it’s a burn and sting and fuck yes, and his hands are tight on McCoy’s hips as he slams up into him. It’s still an extremely uncomfortable position and McCoy’s jeans are bunched and slightly in the way, but he grabs Jim and kisses him anyway, his hips rolling and lifting and there, Jim’s never had a problem finding just that spot before and just because the situation is slightly bizarre doesn’t mean that he’s any less competent in making McCoy moan.
There must be a very well-hidden exhibitionist lurking somewhere inside McCoy because he can feel the coil and clench sooner than he’d expected, and Jim’s mouthing at his collarbones and grunting, fucking him with a single-minded determination. McCoy starts to tug on his own cock as Jim’s rhythm suddenly stutters and falters and stalls, and his grip tightens almost painfully as he comes, and his face is dark in the station but McCoy can still see his eyes squeezed shut as he rides it out. And then he releases one hip, now-free hand grabbing at McCoy’s cock and overlapping his own hand as he helps bring him off.
McCoy lets him take over, allows the practiced hand to do its job and Jim strikes up a quick motion, a flick and a twist and a thumb and there, and McCoy can feel his muscles all spasm and his jaw drops open in a silent shout, and yes, and he reaches up to hold onto something for leverage as he empties himself, and -
The shoulder restraints lurch downwards with a CRANK-CRANK-CRANK and they both freeze in panic, and McCoy’s eyes widen as he finds his forehead pressed quite suddenly, and quite painfully, against the headlamp still attached to Jim’s with the restraints still tightly gripped in his hands and pressed down firmly on the back of his neck.
Jim manages to keep a straight face for about ten seconds, then cracks up and bursts out laughing, and doesn’t help as McCoy tries in vain to push back against the restraints. They’re locked down in position and are holding McCoy doggedly with no apparently intention of letting him move away, and the whole position is incredibly awkward because not only are they on possibly the most uncomfortable rollercoaster in the whole country, but Jim’s cock is still twitching weakly inside him and there’s come all over their shirts.
“Well I’m glad that you think this is hilarious,” he snaps, but Jim is too busy crying to say anything useful. To be fair, McCoy will probably find it equally amusing in a few day’s time, but right now he’s more bothered about extricating himself from the whole mess. Jim releases his hip as he performs an awkward and ungraceful maneuver to separate the two of them, then shimmies his body down and under the restraints without falling backwards over the front of the train.
“I didn’t even get to enjoy that,” he grouches, climbing off the train and glaring at Jim, who’s still boneless and giggling. “I’m pretty sure all of the pleasure normally associated with an orgasm just leaked straight out into the come. That’s my happy feeling, all over your chest. I hope you’re satisfied.”
“Oh man, this way the best idea ever,” Jim gasps, and McCoy kicks his foot half-heartedly as he cleans himself off and zips his jeans back up.
“This was a terrible idea. Come on, you miscreant. And careful not to pull it down any further or you’ll never get out.”
Jim takes a deep breath then removes the condom and flings it wildly over his shoulder into the bushes by the side of the station, and cheerfully ignores McCoy’s glare as he accepts the proffered tissue and sorts himself out. McCoy is tempted to push the restraint down himself. It’ll be just their luck that someone finds the condom and does a DNA test on it.
“We ought to do that again sometimes,” Jim says mildly as he clambers from the train. “But next time, I’ll steal the key. Might as well do it properly. Oh god, can we come back tomorrow? I want to see the attendant’s face when they find this mess in the morning,” Jim cackles, and McCoy casts him a reproving glance and dutifully wipes down the seat.
“You’re a nightmare. I bet they have security cameras.”
“Hey, I was all set to go, you were the one who pushed me down and had his way with me!” Jim protests, somewhat gleefully, and flicks his headlamp on. McCoy finds himself rubbing at his own forehead, where the imprint of the headlamp is no doubt stamped for the next few hours.
“Put it down to a horrific lapse in judgment,” he retorts, and follows Jim as he climbs down the station opening and drops down to the floor below. “I’m never going to be able to bring Joanna here now. I certainly can’t take her on that ride.”
“Just sit in a different car.”
“I’ll probably get a hard-on regardless.”
“I’ll sort it out for you. This is your first step to public sex, Bones. There’s no middle stages. We’re going all out next time. We can get an on-ride photo! We can frame it. Or better yet, make holiday cards out of it.”
“I hate you.”
***
(pee ess - OTS restraints.)
...
...I took a leaf out of canis_takahari's book and stuck The Lonely Island on whilst writing. I think that it shows.
THIS IS WHY I NEVER WRITE PORN. I CAN'T WRITE PORN. IT JUST DOESN'T HAPPEN.
/flail