I Knead You (A Bakery AU) Part 6
Title: I Knead You (A Bakery AU)
Section Title: Goodbyes, Hellos and Morning Afters
Authors: wook77 and elanorofcastile
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy with sides of Spock/Uhura, Scotty/Gaila and Chekov/Sulu. Also, a wee bit of Joanna McCoy.
Wordcount: ~5000
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Present Day AU
Summary: Joanna's week is up and it's time for a goodbye. A morning after follows a long-awaited "hello".
A/N: Betaed by djin7 who is seriously the most amazing person for putting up with wook77: The Comma Hater and elanorofcastile: The Fastest Tense-Switcher East of the Mississippi. She deserves kudos and love showered upon her.
Part 5
Leonard's quiet as they move through the Sunday traffic. It's fairly light, something that upsets him. He'd much rather it be heavier so that it'll take longer to get to the airport along with giving him something to concentrate on other than the fact that they're heading to the airport. He hasn't had enough time with his daughter, dammit. It's been three years of phone calls and webcams - neither of which offer the realness of a hug and a kiss. None of that gives him the unique scent of 'little girl' that permeates his house. Neither the phone calls nor the webcams will jump into bed with him and snuggle down in the morning while they both search for an extra few minutes of sleep. He can't exactly hold his daughter and sniff her hair as they read a story at night over a webcam.
"Dammit," he mutters, ostensibly because a giant SUV just cut him off, but mainly, because he needs to take his mind off the fact that his daughter is going to disappear from his life again.
"Daddy," Joanna says, reaching out a hand and putting it on his forearm. "I'll call you when I get home. Promise."
"I know, baby. You have a good time?" he asks as he swings into the right lane and slows down further. He doesn't mind that they're going fifteen under the speed limit over here.
"The best. You think Mommy will like the cupcakes?" Joanna holds the box containing the last two cupcakes she'd decorated with Jim on her lap.
"I think she'll love 'em. You be good and mind the flight attendant that helps you get to your plane, all right?"
"Course, don't want to get stuck in the wrong place."
"You got your bunny?"
"Duh, Daddy."
"What about your toothbrush?"
"Daddy."
"You got your toes?"
"Daddy," she says and, this time, she's giggling.
"Knees?" he asks as he looks over quickly and winks at her. "I think you're missing a pigtail. We better go back."
"You're being silly."
"Gotta make sure you have the important stuff." Because he can't resist, he reaches over and tugs at one of her pigtails. "You remember your flight information in case you lose
the flight attendant?"
"Yup." She nods emphatically and Leonard grins before cocking an eyebrow. Another giggle and then she recites the information back at him.
"Good deal, baby girl. You call if you have any issues, all right? You got the phone?"
She reaches over and digs through her bag until she pulls put the phone and waves it around triumphantly. "You're speed dial one and Mom is speed dial two. I just hold in the one and you'll be on the other line in a jiffy."
"You bet," he says as he takes the exit to the airport. All too soon, they're pulling into a parking lot and getting Joanna's bags from the trunk. Jo slings her backpack over her shoulder and carries the cupcakes while Leonard tugs Joanna's pink Disney Princesses wheelie bag.
It doesn't take nearly long enough to get through check-in and then wind their way through security. As Joanna gets ready to head past the gentleman checking identification, Leonard squats down and hugs her, pressing his nose into her hair and breathing deeply, over and over, trying to get as much of her scent into his memories as possible to get him through the next indeterminate length of time until he's allowed to see her again. For half a moment, he hopes Jocelyn's mother has a hospital stay so he can have his daughter again. Or maybe a dinosaur could crush Jocelyn and then he'd be home free.
"You ready?" he asks as he pulls back, keeping his hands on her shoulders.
"I don't really wanna go, Daddy," she confesses in a whisper. "I like it here."
"I know, baby," he whispers back, forcing out the rest. "But your mama needs you, too. Bet she's missed you so much. Bet she's waiting at the airport already." He smiles, raising a hand to brush across her cheek.
"You're being silly again."
"I'm going to miss you, Jojo."
"Miss you, more, Daddy."
"Call me if you need anything?"
"Duh."
"One more hug? Maybe a kiss? Don't want you to miss your plane." She nods and then leaps forward, hugging him again. Her lips press against his cheek and then he kisses her cheek, taking one last opportunity to breathe her in again. "Bye, Jojo."
"Bye, Daddy," she says and he can hear her crying.
"Be a good girl for everyone, show 'em us McCoys know how to act proper."
"Kay, Daddy." She pulls away and takes a deep breath. "Tell Mister Jim 'thanks again', all right?"
"Of course."
"Love you."
"Love you, too. Now go get on that plane. Your mama's waiting." He shoos at her, waving at her throughout the security process. With one last wave, she disappears with a flight attendant at her side. He ignores the emotions churning in his gut along with the sympathetic looks of the people around him as he hurries back to his car, drives out of the lot and back to his apartment. This time, he rushes through the traffic, speeding along until he gets to his house.
Now that he's here, he has no idea what to do with himself. Deciding to start small, he goes upstairs and strips the bed that Joanna had used and dumps the bedding in the laundry room. It takes him far longer than it should have to clean up from her visit. There are books to be re-read as he thinks about the past week and photos to look at.
The doorbell rings as begins to clean the kitchen. Thankful for the interruption, he hurries to the door, swinging it open without pausing to check who's on the other side.
"Hey, yo, Bones! You ready for this?" Jim says as he barrels into Leonard's house. Still numb from dropping Joanna off at the airport, Leonard simply watches his progress as he waggles a couple of bags at Leonard and then heads into the kitchen.
"Jim," he mutters.
"Yeah?" Jim says, popping his head around the corner.
"What are you doing here?"
"No offense, but you could really use some practice baking. So I thought, hey-I'm a baker. I could show you how to bake some bread. So here I am."
"You want to teach me how to bake bread?" Leonard finally gathers himself enough to follow Jim into the kitchen and watches as Jim unpacks a thousand and one instruments.
"You have a mixer, right? Everyone has to have a mixer."
"Somewhere." He gestures grandly towards the cabinets. He's certain he'd bought one ages ago or maybe the mixer is the thing he'd thrown out when he'd lost a part.
"Great! Could use a beer, mind if I grab one?"
"Jim, what are you doing here? Really?" Leonard asks after he reaches into the fridge and pulls out a couple of beers.
"You ever bake bread before?"
"Nope."
"It's an awesome thing, Bones. You mix it up, beat it up and it rises back. Then you beat it again and it rises again."
"What the hell you talking about?" Just as he asks, he gets the metaphor and feels a stupid, soppy grin spread over his face. "Oh."
"You ready?"
"Sure, I'm really good at watching."
"As if. Oh no, my friend, we are so baking. Together," Jim says as he bends over and explores the cabinets until he gives a triumphant crow. "Ha! You do have one and it isn't bad either. It's no Kitchenaid or anything but it'll do."
Jim hefts it onto the counter and then fiddles in his bag, pulling an apron out and giving it a snap. "Here you go. Can't bake without looking official."
"People do it all the time."
"I don't."
"Martha does," Leonard says before he can catch himself.
" Touché, my friend, touché. We shall be like Martha and go forth apronless. Time to explore new worlds!" Jim's grin and exuberance is infectious, melting Leonard's moroseness until he can almost forget about losing his daughter for more than a couple of minutes at a time. With the way that Jim is constantly moving around him, shifting him, touching him, guiding his hands and breathing against his neck, Leonard can't concentrate on anything more than Jim's presence.
"You want me to what now?"
"Kneeeeead the dough. Imagine you're, oh, feeling for something on a body? And you have to um...palpate it a bit? I don't know, I'm trying to explain in your world without making myself sick. Just imagine that, except this time, instead of tons of extra paperwork, there's delicious, crusty goodness waiting for you."
Leonard eyes Jim skeptically, tentatively approaching the ball of dough. Prodding it suspiciously, he settles for massaging it, giving it a good poke every once in a while for good measure. The warm presence behind him makes him pause, turning his head and cocks an eyebrow at Jim.
"Well, I guess the fact that you took my instructions makes this a banner day, but I think the poor loaf would be better treated if we did this." Jim guides Bones's hands, folding and pressing the dough over and over. He pauses to cup flour in his hands and run them over Leonard's. "The better to keep them from sticking."
As they work the dough, Jim's breath teases across Leonard's ear, body warm and firm against him. It's all he can do to not simply lean back into Jim, but he doesn't want to break the camaraderie they're having.
Jim stills their hands, reaching past Leonard to cover the dough ball with a clean cloth, not moving away. A little breathless, Jim says, "Now, we, ah, leave it to rise again."
Leonard turns in his arms, leaning back on the counter, but makes no move to push Jim away. Jim grins unsteadily, not quite sure where to put his flour-covered hands. His grin turning wicked, Jim leans into Leonard, reaching behind him.
"Jim?"
"Yes, Bones?" Batting his eyelashes, Jim leans a bit further forward, suddenly pulling back to scrub a handful of flour into Leonard's hair. Squawking indignantly, Leonard wrestles away from Jim, looking around for something to defend himself with. Jim stands guard on his arsenal of flour, but a lone squeeze bottle of olive oil catches his eye on the work counter.
Leonard has to look wild, hair disheveled and powdered white, and wielding the squeeze bottle. Jim's face splits into a grin. They circle the worktable, daring the other to mar its gleaming surface. Jim breaks first, lobbing his first handful unsuccessfully and flour fills the air. They laugh as he tries to duck the stream of oil that hits him in the face. Smearing the stuff across his face, he whoops, abandoning his post to tackle Leonard. Jim straddles his chest, stuffing the second handful down the front of Leonard's shirt. Leonard tears the top off the squeeze bottle, dumping the rest down Jim's front. After flailing at the counter for a moment, Jim grabs the nearest container and dumps confectioner's sugar on Leonard. They giggle like kids, Leonard feeling the most relaxed that he ever has in years.
As Jim sits on Leonard, he scoops the oily goop from his shirt, smearing it into Leonard's hair. Leonard flips them, leaning over and dripping on Jim as he really looks at the man below him. Jim's chest is heaving from laughing, eyes dancing beneath the crud all over his face. Leonard swipes his thumb over Jim's oil-slick lips, following its movement with his eyes.
Jim's grin shifted into something unsure, heart racing for a different reason. He looks back at Leonard, the intense look he meets a sudden shift from the mischievous grin before.
"Bones? Len...?" Jim wriggles, trying to get his attention, maybe break the tension that has filled the kitchen. Leonard places a hand on Jim's chest to still him. The fingertips of the other trace Jim's lower lip again before he leans down and licks the fragrant oil from Jim's lips. Jim reaches up to thread his hands in Leonard's hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. It's unsure and messy and gross, but the terrible taste of the flour mixture is forgotten as the kiss deepens further.
Jim brings his hands up, threading them into Leonard's short, flour-covered, hair. Neither care that they're disgusting and on the floor like a couple of teenagers. All the tension and emotions they've held back burst forward all at once. Leonard growls as Jim arches up against him, but it's not enough, not close enough. Breaking the kiss, Leonard sits up, pulling Jim up by his shirt. Tugging Jim's shirt over his head, Leonard bites down on Jim's bared collarbone, eliciting a hiss and feeling Jim's fingers tugging at his hair.
"Too many fucking clothes, old man."
"I'll show you old, you bastard." Leonard grinds down against Jim, eliciting a gasp and a sharp buck of his hips. "That's what I thought. Get your ass up, I'm not fucking you on my kitchen floor."
Leonard stands, grabbing the waistband of Jim's jeans to haul him up when he doesn't move fast enough, bringing a finger up to stop the smartass remark about to escape Jim's mouth. "And it's not because I'm old."
He tugs Jim close for a rough kiss before pushing him in the direction of the staircase. They fumble their way up the steps, pausing to kiss or strip off another piece of clothing, dropping it wherever they can. By the time they reach Leonard's bedroom, they're both shirtless.
Jim shakes his ass at Leonard, dancing out of arm's reach before dropping his jeans. He winks and blows a kiss before losing his boxers too and throwing them at Leonard's head. Leonard keeps himself from muttering any of the insults that would usually have sprung to mind. Instead, he watches Jim as he reclines on the bed and abruptly stills. He catalogs every scar and freckle, unable to turn it off, even at this moment. Scrubbing a hand through his hair and over his face, he breaks himself out of it, pushing off the doorframe to take his clothes off.
"It's the flour and oil, isn't it?" Jim asks, tone surprisingly shy and self-conscious as he runs a hand over his chest, but at Leonard's disrobing, he grins and his hand moves to his cock instead.
Leonard walks to his bedside table, digging in the drawer to tuck a condom and lube under one of the pillows before climbing on the bed to kneel between Jim's legs. Reaching up to Leonard, Jim pulls him down into a kiss, breathing hard at the feeling of skin on skin.
It's hard to resist thrusting as Jim moans into his mouth, arching up into Leonard's body but he does his best. It's a test of his will power and self-control not to take what he wants as Jim's hands roam all over his body, picking at the flour and scrapping at his skin. His resistance only lasts as long as it takes Jim to grip his cock through his jeans.
"You going to fuck me or just kiss me all day?"
"Both?" Leonard suggests as he thrusts into Jim's firm grip, searching for more sensation that his jeans and underwear are denying him.
"Multi-talented. I like it," Jim says, lips curling into a smirk. The pressure of Jim's grip disappears only to return in a different manner as Jim's hands unfasten his jeans and push them down. "Nice choice of underwear."
"Oh shut up, they were a gift," Leonard says, embarrassed to be caught wearing his Batman boxers.
"I could make some crack about wearing tights but I think I'd rather just get rid of these before temptation takes over." Jim's hands echo his words, working quickly to strip Leonard completely. By the time Jim's done maneuvering him, Leonard finds himself on his back with Jim's lips against his bare stomach while his cock juts up close to his chin. "Much better, now we match."
Leonard raises an eyebrow and looks down the length of Jim's body. "I sort of doubt that."
"Well, yeah, you're wider and I'm longer."
"You're an asshole."
"Your flirtations go straight to my head."
Leonard wants to say something like I prefer you go straight to my head or something equally as awful but, instead, he threads his fingers along Jim's scalp. Jim looks up, winks and then licks a stripe across his stomach, tongue dragging along, dipping into his belly button before it delves closer to where Leonard wants, desperately, for it to go.
"Going to suck your dick. You have a problem with that?"
"I'm clean."
"Well, I'd say you're filthy with flour and oil…"
"Fuck you, you know what I meant."
"Yeah, I'm clean too," Jim says. "You want me to suck it?"
"Just wrap those fucking lips around my dick already. Always the talking with you. I thought you were a man of a-a-a-aaction." Leonard's voice catches as Jim slips his lips over the head and sucks, cheeks hollowing before taking a bit more in, releasing the suction and then repeating. His tongue traces the vein running the length of Leonard's cock. Before Leonard can control himself, he bucks up into that mouth, nonsensical words falling out of his mouth. When he feels his balls tightening, he tugs Jim off his cock. "Thought you wanted me to fuck you?"
"God, yes." Jim slides up Leonard's body, trapping their cocks between them, as he licks at Leonard's lips. "You going to do that?"
"I thought I might. It'll be a trial but I've been married, I can do it on demand," Leonard says, laughter bursting forth at the way that Jim's expression turns affronted for just a moment and then he grins.
"Well, if you must, then you must. I demand it."
Leonard tries to be suave as he reaches over his head for the lube and the condom he'd stashed, but he ends up knocking the pillows around and then the lube falls to the floor. Jim winks at him once more and then slides until he's leaning most of the way off the bed to retrieve the tube. Considering that Jim's ass is right there, it's absolutely impossible not to slap it.
"Hey!" Jim cries out with a laugh as he shimmies back onto the bed. "You don't get to slap my ass until after you've fucked me."
"Look at you taking charge."
"I run a tight ship."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, you should see me in command. My employees fear the shit out of me."
Leonard figures that, if he lets Jim, Jim will continue talking and they'll never get to fucking so he does his best to shut Jim up. His hands grip Jim's ass and knead it, as if it were the bread they'd been working on downstairs. Jim moans, shutting up and arching his back, pushing into the touch.
Snatching the lube out of Jim's hands, Leonard drizzles some on his fingers and then pulls Jim's cheeks apart, running a finger across Jim's asshole and then sliding it in. "That's it. Take it in."
"Another one," Jim demands. Leonard can't quite achieve the depth he wants with lying under Jim like this.
"Want you under me," Leonard says and Jim nods his agreement before turning over obediently. Once Jim's on his stomach under Leonard, Leonard coats his fingers once more and then thrusts two fingers in, deep and hard. "Like that?"
"More," Jim demands, arching into Leonard's touch again. "Want your dick, not your fingers."
"I can do that," Leonard mutters, grabbing the condom and rolls it over himself before slicking it up. He's slow to slide into Jim. He's not taken enough time to prepare Jim like he would've preferred but, considering that it's been years since he's had someone under him and even longer since he's cared about that someone, Leonard lets himself get swept along with Jim's demands for more and faster and harder and please, Bones, fuck me now.
Sweat drips off his forehead, hitting the back of Jim's neck. Not breaking the rhythm, Leonard contorts until he can lick it off Jim. Once he's got the sweaty taste of Jim and himself on his tongue, he can't stop, sucking in Jim's skin and nipping at it before moving a hairsbreadth over and repeating his actions. He hopes it isn't enough to bruise as he'd prefer to not to think about Jim explaining the series of bruises to the rest of the bakery crew.
Jim grips his hand and slides it along his hip until he forces Leonard's hand around his dick. Oh, he'd forgotten about that part. It really has been too long. Leonard jacks Jim in time to his thrusts, speeding up as he gets closer. His orgasm comes on him quickly, sending his hips into quick snaps as he rides it out. Hand rough as he continues to jack Jim, mouth biting and nipping at Jim's neck and shoulders, he melds himself to Jim as best he can.
It's not long before Jim comes, knees collapsing under the weight of both of them. Leonard figures he should move - he has to be crushing Jim, but he can't really think right now. Perhaps Jocelyn had been right, Leonard really did only think with his dick and orgasm sent his brainpower out into the ether. That or sex turns him into a fucking moron with crazy ideas. Probably both.
When his toes stop tingling, his brain starts to work and he slowly pulls out of Jim then ties off the condom. While he's disposing of it in the bathroom, he sees how absolutely ridiculous he looks. His hair sticks out at all sorts of odd angles, he's got brushburn up one side and down the other, there are giant patches of oil soaked flour on his skin with paths traced by sweat rivulets. Dammit, he's appalling. How the hell did Jim ever find this attractive? He mutters to himself as he grabs a towel, dampens it and then washes off his chest.
Jim's hand on his stills him. He looks up to the mirror and sees Jim grinning at him, soft and indulgent, as he takes over wiping Leonard down.
"Figure I should be doing that to you," Leonard says as he watches Jim's hand trace over his skin.
"You can do me again, later." Jim continues to wash him and Leonard doesn't look away from Jim's face in the mirror.
"Jim," he starts to say.
"Bet that bread's risen so far that Christ pops out of it."
"That was bad, even for you."
"I feel like I'm covered in papier mache, and not in a sexy way."
"There's a sexy way to be...wait, I don't want to know."
"There's a sexy way to be covered in anything, you just have to go for it."
"Okay, piñata man, let's get you in the shower so I don't have to find out if there's candy under your hard shell."
"You're the best, baby." Jim uses a too flirtatious tone and then smacks Leonard's ass. "Go clean up your room, though, or you won't get any bread."
"That is just too far."
"Be out in a minute," Jim says and then steps into the shower, turning the dials while Leonard shakes his head and tries to figure out what the hell has happened to his life. He's sent his daughter back to Georgia, made a mess of his kitchen and bedroom and fucked Jim Kirk. All in the space of a few hours. Who the hell is he and what the hell has happened to him?
"You're thinking too much! Go clean or get in here and wash my back," Jim yells from within the shower.
By the time Leonard's put on some clothes and finished changing the sheets, Jim's stepping into the bedroom, toweling off his head with Leonard's towel.
"Ready to see what we've done to your kitchen and if that bread is salvageable?"
"You need some clothes," Leonard says. "Naked in the kitchen is a no-no."
"I'm grabbing some of yours, then," Jim says as he shakes his jeans and oily flour drips to the floor. "And I'll clean that up. Later."
"Fine." Leonard raids his dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans, a pair of boxers (in a fit of pique, he grabs the Incredible Hulk ones) and then tosses them at Jim.
"You're too generous."
"That's me."
Leonard heads downstairs as Jim dresses, barely resisting snarling at the state of the kitchen. Oozing mess covers every surface inside and out into the hall.
Jim speaks up from behind him, "We could...ignore it for now? Clean it up in the morning?"
Leonard sighs, shaking his head. "No, it'll only become worse. I'll get it corralled while you're salvaging the bread."
"You don't want to knead my dough anymore?"
"I'll - " Jim cuts him off with a kiss, winking and stepping into the kitchen. Leonard stands there for a bit, not quite sure what to do with anything that had happened tonight, until Jim's off-key singing breaks him from his trance and he goes in search of his broom.
~*~
In what seems like a few short minutes but is actually at least an hour of baking and cleaning, they're curled up in Leonard's bed, eating bread and licking butter from one another's fingers. Leonard wants to make a comment about how it's improper to eat in bed or something but he's too distracted by the way that Jim's lips curl around his fingers, reminding him of the way that those same lips had curled around his dick.
"Stay?" he asks before he thinks twice.
"Thought you'd never ask."
~*~
Jim stands, staring aghast at the contents of Bones's pantry. One hand is frozen where it had been scratching his bare stomach, the other pointing at the offending item.
Blinking, Bones comes into the kitchen, mumbling hello to Jim. Prodding at the coffee-maker, he watches it slowly drip coffee into the carafe. The smell finally rouses him enough to realize that Jim hasn't moved.
"What's the matter, Jim?"
Indignant sputtering is the only response, Jim finally moving enough to grab the box of mix, turning to shake it at Bones in anger. "What...what monstrosity is this?"
"Muffin mix? It's really tasty...?"
"Tasty? It's from the mouth of hell, Bones! A MIX!" He shakes the box for emphasis, sleep and sex mussed hair making him look savage.
Bones slowly backs up, hands raised. "Is this going to be like the donut thing?"
"Donuts are a step up from this! You know who uses this? Chiron! He makes the poor souls eat it as they're forced to cross into the underworld! SATAN tortures bakers with it in the inner circles of HELL!"
Quickly stepping around the counter, Bones feels safer with the island between them. "Look, Jim, we can't all..."
"Silence, heathen! This isn't just a torture device, it's a generic torture device! It' a VALU torture device. Not only is it so generic it's called "value" but the demonic forces who created it couldn't even bring themselves to finish the word!" Jim chucks the box at Bones, trying to wipe his hands of some imaginary, hellish residue.
"Well, clearly, as Satan's minion, I must take it upon myself to tarnish your heavenly standards." Sarcasm drips from every word and Bones snatches the box from the counter and starts pulling mixing bowls and measuring cups from his cabinets. "Stand back, angelic chef, I'm here to corrupt you."
With a moan, Jim collapses into a stool, face in his hands, muttering about the fate of delicate palates. Bones rolls his eyes, making the goddamn muffins.
~*~
Neither Jim nor Bones speak during the baking process, Jim sitting in a pouting funk and Bones trying not to hurt himself from rolling his eyes. Occasionally the words despicable, heresy or poisonous can be heard, muffled by the hands over Jim's face. Again, Bones mentally applauds himself for not picking the man up and hurling him off the balcony out of spite. Digging in the mix powder around flecks of "strawberry" he snags a chocolate chip, flicking it at Jim's head. The answering moan of horror makes him snicker, as he sneaks another one out for himself.
Finally baked and cooled enough, Bones snatches one, tugging Jim's head up by his hair. When his mouth opens to squawk in protest, he shoves the muffin in his mouth. "Try that, you snooty bastard." Turning back to the plate, he starts picking another one apart, eating pieces and muttering to himself. "See if I offer to feed you after fucking again...gonna make you cook and do all the goddamn dishes."
Jim glares at him, not moving his jaw. If his teeth pierce the muffin it would be admitting defeat. The smell is rather appealing, but no! He can't! Finally, needing to swallow or drown in his saliva, Jim bites down on the muffin. Chewing slowly with a scowl on his face, he tries to convey he's only doing this to appease Leonard and possibly ingratiate himself enough to see him naked again before the next Coming. With a gravity that could only be compared to Socrates drinking hemlock he swallows. "There, happy?"
"Hmm, well, you did deign to bring your cultured palate down to the commoners. But you can't deny it's tasty." Jim opens his mouth to respond, stopping when Leonard brings up a finger to silence him. "And if you lie, you'll be lucky to see even the slightest hint of my bedroom before you lose the ability to hold an erection, unaided."
"Fine, the chocolate's nice. If you can even consider it chocolate instead of chocolate product."
"Good enough." Leonard tosses Jim a triumphant look and pulls another muffin apart. "Want another one?"
Part 7
As Always, we'd love to hear what you thought.
Section Title: Goodbyes, Hellos and Morning Afters
Authors: wook77 and elanorofcastile
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy with sides of Spock/Uhura, Scotty/Gaila and Chekov/Sulu. Also, a wee bit of Joanna McCoy.
Wordcount: ~5000
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Present Day AU
Summary: Joanna's week is up and it's time for a goodbye. A morning after follows a long-awaited "hello".
A/N: Betaed by djin7 who is seriously the most amazing person for putting up with wook77: The Comma Hater and elanorofcastile: The Fastest Tense-Switcher East of the Mississippi. She deserves kudos and love showered upon her.
Part 5
Leonard's quiet as they move through the Sunday traffic. It's fairly light, something that upsets him. He'd much rather it be heavier so that it'll take longer to get to the airport along with giving him something to concentrate on other than the fact that they're heading to the airport. He hasn't had enough time with his daughter, dammit. It's been three years of phone calls and webcams - neither of which offer the realness of a hug and a kiss. None of that gives him the unique scent of 'little girl' that permeates his house. Neither the phone calls nor the webcams will jump into bed with him and snuggle down in the morning while they both search for an extra few minutes of sleep. He can't exactly hold his daughter and sniff her hair as they read a story at night over a webcam.
"Dammit," he mutters, ostensibly because a giant SUV just cut him off, but mainly, because he needs to take his mind off the fact that his daughter is going to disappear from his life again.
"Daddy," Joanna says, reaching out a hand and putting it on his forearm. "I'll call you when I get home. Promise."
"I know, baby. You have a good time?" he asks as he swings into the right lane and slows down further. He doesn't mind that they're going fifteen under the speed limit over here.
"The best. You think Mommy will like the cupcakes?" Joanna holds the box containing the last two cupcakes she'd decorated with Jim on her lap.
"I think she'll love 'em. You be good and mind the flight attendant that helps you get to your plane, all right?"
"Course, don't want to get stuck in the wrong place."
"You got your bunny?"
"Duh, Daddy."
"What about your toothbrush?"
"Daddy."
"You got your toes?"
"Daddy," she says and, this time, she's giggling.
"Knees?" he asks as he looks over quickly and winks at her. "I think you're missing a pigtail. We better go back."
"You're being silly."
"Gotta make sure you have the important stuff." Because he can't resist, he reaches over and tugs at one of her pigtails. "You remember your flight information in case you lose
the flight attendant?"
"Yup." She nods emphatically and Leonard grins before cocking an eyebrow. Another giggle and then she recites the information back at him.
"Good deal, baby girl. You call if you have any issues, all right? You got the phone?"
She reaches over and digs through her bag until she pulls put the phone and waves it around triumphantly. "You're speed dial one and Mom is speed dial two. I just hold in the one and you'll be on the other line in a jiffy."
"You bet," he says as he takes the exit to the airport. All too soon, they're pulling into a parking lot and getting Joanna's bags from the trunk. Jo slings her backpack over her shoulder and carries the cupcakes while Leonard tugs Joanna's pink Disney Princesses wheelie bag.
It doesn't take nearly long enough to get through check-in and then wind their way through security. As Joanna gets ready to head past the gentleman checking identification, Leonard squats down and hugs her, pressing his nose into her hair and breathing deeply, over and over, trying to get as much of her scent into his memories as possible to get him through the next indeterminate length of time until he's allowed to see her again. For half a moment, he hopes Jocelyn's mother has a hospital stay so he can have his daughter again. Or maybe a dinosaur could crush Jocelyn and then he'd be home free.
"You ready?" he asks as he pulls back, keeping his hands on her shoulders.
"I don't really wanna go, Daddy," she confesses in a whisper. "I like it here."
"I know, baby," he whispers back, forcing out the rest. "But your mama needs you, too. Bet she's missed you so much. Bet she's waiting at the airport already." He smiles, raising a hand to brush across her cheek.
"You're being silly again."
"I'm going to miss you, Jojo."
"Miss you, more, Daddy."
"Call me if you need anything?"
"Duh."
"One more hug? Maybe a kiss? Don't want you to miss your plane." She nods and then leaps forward, hugging him again. Her lips press against his cheek and then he kisses her cheek, taking one last opportunity to breathe her in again. "Bye, Jojo."
"Bye, Daddy," she says and he can hear her crying.
"Be a good girl for everyone, show 'em us McCoys know how to act proper."
"Kay, Daddy." She pulls away and takes a deep breath. "Tell Mister Jim 'thanks again', all right?"
"Of course."
"Love you."
"Love you, too. Now go get on that plane. Your mama's waiting." He shoos at her, waving at her throughout the security process. With one last wave, she disappears with a flight attendant at her side. He ignores the emotions churning in his gut along with the sympathetic looks of the people around him as he hurries back to his car, drives out of the lot and back to his apartment. This time, he rushes through the traffic, speeding along until he gets to his house.
Now that he's here, he has no idea what to do with himself. Deciding to start small, he goes upstairs and strips the bed that Joanna had used and dumps the bedding in the laundry room. It takes him far longer than it should have to clean up from her visit. There are books to be re-read as he thinks about the past week and photos to look at.
The doorbell rings as begins to clean the kitchen. Thankful for the interruption, he hurries to the door, swinging it open without pausing to check who's on the other side.
"Hey, yo, Bones! You ready for this?" Jim says as he barrels into Leonard's house. Still numb from dropping Joanna off at the airport, Leonard simply watches his progress as he waggles a couple of bags at Leonard and then heads into the kitchen.
"Jim," he mutters.
"Yeah?" Jim says, popping his head around the corner.
"What are you doing here?"
"No offense, but you could really use some practice baking. So I thought, hey-I'm a baker. I could show you how to bake some bread. So here I am."
"You want to teach me how to bake bread?" Leonard finally gathers himself enough to follow Jim into the kitchen and watches as Jim unpacks a thousand and one instruments.
"You have a mixer, right? Everyone has to have a mixer."
"Somewhere." He gestures grandly towards the cabinets. He's certain he'd bought one ages ago or maybe the mixer is the thing he'd thrown out when he'd lost a part.
"Great! Could use a beer, mind if I grab one?"
"Jim, what are you doing here? Really?" Leonard asks after he reaches into the fridge and pulls out a couple of beers.
"You ever bake bread before?"
"Nope."
"It's an awesome thing, Bones. You mix it up, beat it up and it rises back. Then you beat it again and it rises again."
"What the hell you talking about?" Just as he asks, he gets the metaphor and feels a stupid, soppy grin spread over his face. "Oh."
"You ready?"
"Sure, I'm really good at watching."
"As if. Oh no, my friend, we are so baking. Together," Jim says as he bends over and explores the cabinets until he gives a triumphant crow. "Ha! You do have one and it isn't bad either. It's no Kitchenaid or anything but it'll do."
Jim hefts it onto the counter and then fiddles in his bag, pulling an apron out and giving it a snap. "Here you go. Can't bake without looking official."
"People do it all the time."
"I don't."
"Martha does," Leonard says before he can catch himself.
" Touché, my friend, touché. We shall be like Martha and go forth apronless. Time to explore new worlds!" Jim's grin and exuberance is infectious, melting Leonard's moroseness until he can almost forget about losing his daughter for more than a couple of minutes at a time. With the way that Jim is constantly moving around him, shifting him, touching him, guiding his hands and breathing against his neck, Leonard can't concentrate on anything more than Jim's presence.
"You want me to what now?"
"Kneeeeead the dough. Imagine you're, oh, feeling for something on a body? And you have to um...palpate it a bit? I don't know, I'm trying to explain in your world without making myself sick. Just imagine that, except this time, instead of tons of extra paperwork, there's delicious, crusty goodness waiting for you."
Leonard eyes Jim skeptically, tentatively approaching the ball of dough. Prodding it suspiciously, he settles for massaging it, giving it a good poke every once in a while for good measure. The warm presence behind him makes him pause, turning his head and cocks an eyebrow at Jim.
"Well, I guess the fact that you took my instructions makes this a banner day, but I think the poor loaf would be better treated if we did this." Jim guides Bones's hands, folding and pressing the dough over and over. He pauses to cup flour in his hands and run them over Leonard's. "The better to keep them from sticking."
As they work the dough, Jim's breath teases across Leonard's ear, body warm and firm against him. It's all he can do to not simply lean back into Jim, but he doesn't want to break the camaraderie they're having.
Jim stills their hands, reaching past Leonard to cover the dough ball with a clean cloth, not moving away. A little breathless, Jim says, "Now, we, ah, leave it to rise again."
Leonard turns in his arms, leaning back on the counter, but makes no move to push Jim away. Jim grins unsteadily, not quite sure where to put his flour-covered hands. His grin turning wicked, Jim leans into Leonard, reaching behind him.
"Jim?"
"Yes, Bones?" Batting his eyelashes, Jim leans a bit further forward, suddenly pulling back to scrub a handful of flour into Leonard's hair. Squawking indignantly, Leonard wrestles away from Jim, looking around for something to defend himself with. Jim stands guard on his arsenal of flour, but a lone squeeze bottle of olive oil catches his eye on the work counter.
Leonard has to look wild, hair disheveled and powdered white, and wielding the squeeze bottle. Jim's face splits into a grin. They circle the worktable, daring the other to mar its gleaming surface. Jim breaks first, lobbing his first handful unsuccessfully and flour fills the air. They laugh as he tries to duck the stream of oil that hits him in the face. Smearing the stuff across his face, he whoops, abandoning his post to tackle Leonard. Jim straddles his chest, stuffing the second handful down the front of Leonard's shirt. Leonard tears the top off the squeeze bottle, dumping the rest down Jim's front. After flailing at the counter for a moment, Jim grabs the nearest container and dumps confectioner's sugar on Leonard. They giggle like kids, Leonard feeling the most relaxed that he ever has in years.
As Jim sits on Leonard, he scoops the oily goop from his shirt, smearing it into Leonard's hair. Leonard flips them, leaning over and dripping on Jim as he really looks at the man below him. Jim's chest is heaving from laughing, eyes dancing beneath the crud all over his face. Leonard swipes his thumb over Jim's oil-slick lips, following its movement with his eyes.
Jim's grin shifted into something unsure, heart racing for a different reason. He looks back at Leonard, the intense look he meets a sudden shift from the mischievous grin before.
"Bones? Len...?" Jim wriggles, trying to get his attention, maybe break the tension that has filled the kitchen. Leonard places a hand on Jim's chest to still him. The fingertips of the other trace Jim's lower lip again before he leans down and licks the fragrant oil from Jim's lips. Jim reaches up to thread his hands in Leonard's hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. It's unsure and messy and gross, but the terrible taste of the flour mixture is forgotten as the kiss deepens further.
Jim brings his hands up, threading them into Leonard's short, flour-covered, hair. Neither care that they're disgusting and on the floor like a couple of teenagers. All the tension and emotions they've held back burst forward all at once. Leonard growls as Jim arches up against him, but it's not enough, not close enough. Breaking the kiss, Leonard sits up, pulling Jim up by his shirt. Tugging Jim's shirt over his head, Leonard bites down on Jim's bared collarbone, eliciting a hiss and feeling Jim's fingers tugging at his hair.
"Too many fucking clothes, old man."
"I'll show you old, you bastard." Leonard grinds down against Jim, eliciting a gasp and a sharp buck of his hips. "That's what I thought. Get your ass up, I'm not fucking you on my kitchen floor."
Leonard stands, grabbing the waistband of Jim's jeans to haul him up when he doesn't move fast enough, bringing a finger up to stop the smartass remark about to escape Jim's mouth. "And it's not because I'm old."
He tugs Jim close for a rough kiss before pushing him in the direction of the staircase. They fumble their way up the steps, pausing to kiss or strip off another piece of clothing, dropping it wherever they can. By the time they reach Leonard's bedroom, they're both shirtless.
Jim shakes his ass at Leonard, dancing out of arm's reach before dropping his jeans. He winks and blows a kiss before losing his boxers too and throwing them at Leonard's head. Leonard keeps himself from muttering any of the insults that would usually have sprung to mind. Instead, he watches Jim as he reclines on the bed and abruptly stills. He catalogs every scar and freckle, unable to turn it off, even at this moment. Scrubbing a hand through his hair and over his face, he breaks himself out of it, pushing off the doorframe to take his clothes off.
"It's the flour and oil, isn't it?" Jim asks, tone surprisingly shy and self-conscious as he runs a hand over his chest, but at Leonard's disrobing, he grins and his hand moves to his cock instead.
Leonard walks to his bedside table, digging in the drawer to tuck a condom and lube under one of the pillows before climbing on the bed to kneel between Jim's legs. Reaching up to Leonard, Jim pulls him down into a kiss, breathing hard at the feeling of skin on skin.
It's hard to resist thrusting as Jim moans into his mouth, arching up into Leonard's body but he does his best. It's a test of his will power and self-control not to take what he wants as Jim's hands roam all over his body, picking at the flour and scrapping at his skin. His resistance only lasts as long as it takes Jim to grip his cock through his jeans.
"You going to fuck me or just kiss me all day?"
"Both?" Leonard suggests as he thrusts into Jim's firm grip, searching for more sensation that his jeans and underwear are denying him.
"Multi-talented. I like it," Jim says, lips curling into a smirk. The pressure of Jim's grip disappears only to return in a different manner as Jim's hands unfasten his jeans and push them down. "Nice choice of underwear."
"Oh shut up, they were a gift," Leonard says, embarrassed to be caught wearing his Batman boxers.
"I could make some crack about wearing tights but I think I'd rather just get rid of these before temptation takes over." Jim's hands echo his words, working quickly to strip Leonard completely. By the time Jim's done maneuvering him, Leonard finds himself on his back with Jim's lips against his bare stomach while his cock juts up close to his chin. "Much better, now we match."
Leonard raises an eyebrow and looks down the length of Jim's body. "I sort of doubt that."
"Well, yeah, you're wider and I'm longer."
"You're an asshole."
"Your flirtations go straight to my head."
Leonard wants to say something like I prefer you go straight to my head or something equally as awful but, instead, he threads his fingers along Jim's scalp. Jim looks up, winks and then licks a stripe across his stomach, tongue dragging along, dipping into his belly button before it delves closer to where Leonard wants, desperately, for it to go.
"Going to suck your dick. You have a problem with that?"
"I'm clean."
"Well, I'd say you're filthy with flour and oil…"
"Fuck you, you know what I meant."
"Yeah, I'm clean too," Jim says. "You want me to suck it?"
"Just wrap those fucking lips around my dick already. Always the talking with you. I thought you were a man of a-a-a-aaction." Leonard's voice catches as Jim slips his lips over the head and sucks, cheeks hollowing before taking a bit more in, releasing the suction and then repeating. His tongue traces the vein running the length of Leonard's cock. Before Leonard can control himself, he bucks up into that mouth, nonsensical words falling out of his mouth. When he feels his balls tightening, he tugs Jim off his cock. "Thought you wanted me to fuck you?"
"God, yes." Jim slides up Leonard's body, trapping their cocks between them, as he licks at Leonard's lips. "You going to do that?"
"I thought I might. It'll be a trial but I've been married, I can do it on demand," Leonard says, laughter bursting forth at the way that Jim's expression turns affronted for just a moment and then he grins.
"Well, if you must, then you must. I demand it."
Leonard tries to be suave as he reaches over his head for the lube and the condom he'd stashed, but he ends up knocking the pillows around and then the lube falls to the floor. Jim winks at him once more and then slides until he's leaning most of the way off the bed to retrieve the tube. Considering that Jim's ass is right there, it's absolutely impossible not to slap it.
"Hey!" Jim cries out with a laugh as he shimmies back onto the bed. "You don't get to slap my ass until after you've fucked me."
"Look at you taking charge."
"I run a tight ship."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, you should see me in command. My employees fear the shit out of me."
Leonard figures that, if he lets Jim, Jim will continue talking and they'll never get to fucking so he does his best to shut Jim up. His hands grip Jim's ass and knead it, as if it were the bread they'd been working on downstairs. Jim moans, shutting up and arching his back, pushing into the touch.
Snatching the lube out of Jim's hands, Leonard drizzles some on his fingers and then pulls Jim's cheeks apart, running a finger across Jim's asshole and then sliding it in. "That's it. Take it in."
"Another one," Jim demands. Leonard can't quite achieve the depth he wants with lying under Jim like this.
"Want you under me," Leonard says and Jim nods his agreement before turning over obediently. Once Jim's on his stomach under Leonard, Leonard coats his fingers once more and then thrusts two fingers in, deep and hard. "Like that?"
"More," Jim demands, arching into Leonard's touch again. "Want your dick, not your fingers."
"I can do that," Leonard mutters, grabbing the condom and rolls it over himself before slicking it up. He's slow to slide into Jim. He's not taken enough time to prepare Jim like he would've preferred but, considering that it's been years since he's had someone under him and even longer since he's cared about that someone, Leonard lets himself get swept along with Jim's demands for more and faster and harder and please, Bones, fuck me now.
Sweat drips off his forehead, hitting the back of Jim's neck. Not breaking the rhythm, Leonard contorts until he can lick it off Jim. Once he's got the sweaty taste of Jim and himself on his tongue, he can't stop, sucking in Jim's skin and nipping at it before moving a hairsbreadth over and repeating his actions. He hopes it isn't enough to bruise as he'd prefer to not to think about Jim explaining the series of bruises to the rest of the bakery crew.
Jim grips his hand and slides it along his hip until he forces Leonard's hand around his dick. Oh, he'd forgotten about that part. It really has been too long. Leonard jacks Jim in time to his thrusts, speeding up as he gets closer. His orgasm comes on him quickly, sending his hips into quick snaps as he rides it out. Hand rough as he continues to jack Jim, mouth biting and nipping at Jim's neck and shoulders, he melds himself to Jim as best he can.
It's not long before Jim comes, knees collapsing under the weight of both of them. Leonard figures he should move - he has to be crushing Jim, but he can't really think right now. Perhaps Jocelyn had been right, Leonard really did only think with his dick and orgasm sent his brainpower out into the ether. That or sex turns him into a fucking moron with crazy ideas. Probably both.
When his toes stop tingling, his brain starts to work and he slowly pulls out of Jim then ties off the condom. While he's disposing of it in the bathroom, he sees how absolutely ridiculous he looks. His hair sticks out at all sorts of odd angles, he's got brushburn up one side and down the other, there are giant patches of oil soaked flour on his skin with paths traced by sweat rivulets. Dammit, he's appalling. How the hell did Jim ever find this attractive? He mutters to himself as he grabs a towel, dampens it and then washes off his chest.
Jim's hand on his stills him. He looks up to the mirror and sees Jim grinning at him, soft and indulgent, as he takes over wiping Leonard down.
"Figure I should be doing that to you," Leonard says as he watches Jim's hand trace over his skin.
"You can do me again, later." Jim continues to wash him and Leonard doesn't look away from Jim's face in the mirror.
"Jim," he starts to say.
"Bet that bread's risen so far that Christ pops out of it."
"That was bad, even for you."
"I feel like I'm covered in papier mache, and not in a sexy way."
"There's a sexy way to be...wait, I don't want to know."
"There's a sexy way to be covered in anything, you just have to go for it."
"Okay, piñata man, let's get you in the shower so I don't have to find out if there's candy under your hard shell."
"You're the best, baby." Jim uses a too flirtatious tone and then smacks Leonard's ass. "Go clean up your room, though, or you won't get any bread."
"That is just too far."
"Be out in a minute," Jim says and then steps into the shower, turning the dials while Leonard shakes his head and tries to figure out what the hell has happened to his life. He's sent his daughter back to Georgia, made a mess of his kitchen and bedroom and fucked Jim Kirk. All in the space of a few hours. Who the hell is he and what the hell has happened to him?
"You're thinking too much! Go clean or get in here and wash my back," Jim yells from within the shower.
By the time Leonard's put on some clothes and finished changing the sheets, Jim's stepping into the bedroom, toweling off his head with Leonard's towel.
"Ready to see what we've done to your kitchen and if that bread is salvageable?"
"You need some clothes," Leonard says. "Naked in the kitchen is a no-no."
"I'm grabbing some of yours, then," Jim says as he shakes his jeans and oily flour drips to the floor. "And I'll clean that up. Later."
"Fine." Leonard raids his dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans, a pair of boxers (in a fit of pique, he grabs the Incredible Hulk ones) and then tosses them at Jim.
"You're too generous."
"That's me."
Leonard heads downstairs as Jim dresses, barely resisting snarling at the state of the kitchen. Oozing mess covers every surface inside and out into the hall.
Jim speaks up from behind him, "We could...ignore it for now? Clean it up in the morning?"
Leonard sighs, shaking his head. "No, it'll only become worse. I'll get it corralled while you're salvaging the bread."
"You don't want to knead my dough anymore?"
"I'll - " Jim cuts him off with a kiss, winking and stepping into the kitchen. Leonard stands there for a bit, not quite sure what to do with anything that had happened tonight, until Jim's off-key singing breaks him from his trance and he goes in search of his broom.
~*~
In what seems like a few short minutes but is actually at least an hour of baking and cleaning, they're curled up in Leonard's bed, eating bread and licking butter from one another's fingers. Leonard wants to make a comment about how it's improper to eat in bed or something but he's too distracted by the way that Jim's lips curl around his fingers, reminding him of the way that those same lips had curled around his dick.
"Stay?" he asks before he thinks twice.
"Thought you'd never ask."
~*~
Jim stands, staring aghast at the contents of Bones's pantry. One hand is frozen where it had been scratching his bare stomach, the other pointing at the offending item.
Blinking, Bones comes into the kitchen, mumbling hello to Jim. Prodding at the coffee-maker, he watches it slowly drip coffee into the carafe. The smell finally rouses him enough to realize that Jim hasn't moved.
"What's the matter, Jim?"
Indignant sputtering is the only response, Jim finally moving enough to grab the box of mix, turning to shake it at Bones in anger. "What...what monstrosity is this?"
"Muffin mix? It's really tasty...?"
"Tasty? It's from the mouth of hell, Bones! A MIX!" He shakes the box for emphasis, sleep and sex mussed hair making him look savage.
Bones slowly backs up, hands raised. "Is this going to be like the donut thing?"
"Donuts are a step up from this! You know who uses this? Chiron! He makes the poor souls eat it as they're forced to cross into the underworld! SATAN tortures bakers with it in the inner circles of HELL!"
Quickly stepping around the counter, Bones feels safer with the island between them. "Look, Jim, we can't all..."
"Silence, heathen! This isn't just a torture device, it's a generic torture device! It' a VALU torture device. Not only is it so generic it's called "value" but the demonic forces who created it couldn't even bring themselves to finish the word!" Jim chucks the box at Bones, trying to wipe his hands of some imaginary, hellish residue.
"Well, clearly, as Satan's minion, I must take it upon myself to tarnish your heavenly standards." Sarcasm drips from every word and Bones snatches the box from the counter and starts pulling mixing bowls and measuring cups from his cabinets. "Stand back, angelic chef, I'm here to corrupt you."
With a moan, Jim collapses into a stool, face in his hands, muttering about the fate of delicate palates. Bones rolls his eyes, making the goddamn muffins.
~*~
Neither Jim nor Bones speak during the baking process, Jim sitting in a pouting funk and Bones trying not to hurt himself from rolling his eyes. Occasionally the words despicable, heresy or poisonous can be heard, muffled by the hands over Jim's face. Again, Bones mentally applauds himself for not picking the man up and hurling him off the balcony out of spite. Digging in the mix powder around flecks of "strawberry" he snags a chocolate chip, flicking it at Jim's head. The answering moan of horror makes him snicker, as he sneaks another one out for himself.
Finally baked and cooled enough, Bones snatches one, tugging Jim's head up by his hair. When his mouth opens to squawk in protest, he shoves the muffin in his mouth. "Try that, you snooty bastard." Turning back to the plate, he starts picking another one apart, eating pieces and muttering to himself. "See if I offer to feed you after fucking again...gonna make you cook and do all the goddamn dishes."
Jim glares at him, not moving his jaw. If his teeth pierce the muffin it would be admitting defeat. The smell is rather appealing, but no! He can't! Finally, needing to swallow or drown in his saliva, Jim bites down on the muffin. Chewing slowly with a scowl on his face, he tries to convey he's only doing this to appease Leonard and possibly ingratiate himself enough to see him naked again before the next Coming. With a gravity that could only be compared to Socrates drinking hemlock he swallows. "There, happy?"
"Hmm, well, you did deign to bring your cultured palate down to the commoners. But you can't deny it's tasty." Jim opens his mouth to respond, stopping when Leonard brings up a finger to silence him. "And if you lie, you'll be lucky to see even the slightest hint of my bedroom before you lose the ability to hold an erection, unaided."
"Fine, the chocolate's nice. If you can even consider it chocolate instead of chocolate product."
"Good enough." Leonard tosses Jim a triumphant look and pulls another muffin apart. "Want another one?"
Part 7
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