Fill NC-17 :Daddy Dearest 1/?
anonymous
December 16 2011, 19:41:48 UTC
Semester is over! time to celebrate, I'm filling as many of these as I can!!
It's been a hellish run of shifts for the crew, McCoy knows, he understands, really, that they can't have done better than they did. The klingons, having modified technology from Nero, were the definition of stealth. It's a miracle that Chekov and Uhura noticed the subspace anomalies and raised the red alert in time. And as much as he hates to give Spock any kind of credit whatsoever, the damn hobglobin pulled a miracle out of his ass helping Scotty modify the torpedo signatures to pierce the hulls of the ten - ten!- Klingon ships that had surrounded them.
This is what Leonard had been talking about, that first insane day when he'd thrown caution to the wind, listened to Pike and enlisted in Starfleet. The ship was half dead, worse than when they'd torn themselves from the grip of the black hole they'd consigned Nero to, and to lose so many at once. It didn't bear thinking about. Leonard was holed up in his office sipping at the bottle of medicinal whiskey Jim had given him as a "congratulations" and "I'm sorry" for becoming CMO of the flagship. His eyes burned, his back ached, and he didn't know if he could go back out into medbay to face the agonized moans of the crew. He slammed his fist on the table in anger. The first thing the Klingons had targeted had been their med-tech. If he and Chapel hadn't both held sub-specializations in field triage and pre-conventional surgery, it would be little more than a morgue out there. He took another sip of the whiskey, trying to burn away his taste buds, trying to burn away the memory of LIeutenant Matthews dead eyes and the merciless clutch of his burned hands. If it wasn't for Jim. Leonard got up on unsteady feet and commed Chapel. "Christine, goin' to quarters for a few, I expect you'll be waking M'Benga and following my lead, Nurse Chapel" "Yes, doctor. and...Thanks, Len." "Don't thank me just get some damned sleep." McCoy slouches out of his office, pointedly ignoring the fact that Sulu and Chekov are curled up in one knotted mess of limbs on the biobed, messing up Sulu's reading. He pretends not to see the way strain threatens to mar Spock's placid face as he keep vigil over Uhura's comatose form, and Scotty is quiet for once, watching and waiting for Christine to finally get done.
"I'm serious Nurse Chapel, and I think our Engineer's been kept waiting long enough" Leonard calls out over his shoulder as he finally leaves his sickbay. He doesn't know who has the con, when most of the bridge crew is holed up in the MedBay. It can't be Jim, it had better not be Jim, because Jim has been confined to quarters on Leonard's medical authority after collapsing twice out of his captains chair, the second collapse coming on the heels of finally defeating the Klingon commander. McCoy thinks seriously about using his medical override to make sure Jim's in his quarters, but he knows the importance of self care. He needs a shower and a shave at least before he's in any shape to bully Jim into taking care of himself.
When the doors to his quarters slide open, Leonard senses more than sees that he's not alone. And when he comes to the divider, he can see that it's Jim curled up on his bunk, looking small somehow, somehow altogether different from the swaggering blond powerhouse who'd gotten them through this ordeal. It hits Leonard, then, that Jim is really still just a kid, still in his twenties and still scared, but able to hide it better than anyone. But in his sleep, with his thumb in his mouth and brow still creased with worry, he's not fooling anyone, least of all Bones. Jim needs someone to take care of him, and Bones wants to be that person, needs to be that person.
Re: Fill NC-17 :Daddy Dearest 2/?
anonymous
December 17 2011, 20:29:03 UTC
He sits on the edge of the bed, taking the chance to just watch Jim, really watch him for once, the way his unnaturally long eyelashes sweep against his cheeks, the plump redness of his lips. The scars he got from the first ten hours of battle have healed, and he doesn't need medical attention, but Leonard still aches to touch him, he's always aching to touch Jim, but they don't talk about this thing between them. Jim always laughs him off when Leonard gets a little too close, and Leonard doesn't take it seriously when Jim starts pawing at him, half drunk and eyes half wild.
But it's different today. They almost lost everything today, and things Leonard didn't know mattered have swung into sharp relief. He's startled a bit out of his reverie by Jim, distracted by the unearthly bright blue of his iris, and how he's staring at Leonard. The thumb is out of his mouth, and Jim is reaching out, still sleepy but determined for Leonard's leg.
"Uhura?" He mumbles, voice roughened with exhaustion and sleep. Leonard's quiet for a moment, because he doesn't want to have to tell Jim that his communications officer is still in a coma, and will likely stay that way for at least a week while they wait for a neural regenerator. But Jim has always been able to read McCoy like an open book, he sees the answer to his question in the downward turn of McCoy's mouth, and the way he won't quite look Jim in the eye.
"I'm sorry Jim, but she's not out of the woods yet."
"My fault." Jim says, sitting up fully, his sleep warmed body flush against McCoy but his head slung low, and shoulders slumped. "I'm the captain, I'm responsible, it should be me-"
The pain is making Jim's voice crack, and Leonard can feel his sorrow pouring out of him like it's a tangible living thing trying to drag them both under. And Leonard supposes, this must be what it's like, to have the weight of that responsibility relentless and heavy on your shoulders. Jim's eyes, when he finally turns to look Leonard in the face, are red rimmed and wet, and Bones doesn't care if he's breaking all of their invisible rules, he just herds Jim in close to him, wraps him up tight, running broad strokes along his back and arms and anywhere he can reach to let him know that he's here for him.
"Shh, darlin' that's all right, it's all right, nobody blames you baby boy, nobody blames you it's ok."
Jim's face is hot in the crook of his neck, and it seems impossible but he's squirmed even closer to Bones, clutching at his shirt and whispering about how he was scared, how he wished it didn't have to be him making the decisions all the time, how he just wants to let go.
Leonard's half listening, half mesmerized by the downy soft texture of JIm's skin under his fingertips. It clicks for him, somewhere in between Jim's tormented mutterings of regret, and his own soothing nonsense sounds. He understands what he needs to do to help Jim. So he takes a risk.
"Tell daddy about baby, boy, daddy gon' make it go 'way ya hear?"
He can actually feel Jim's face get hotter when he says it, and he knows the goosebumps on Jim's skin aren't from the ambient temperature. They're from the fact that Leonard's hit on it, on THE thing Jim needs to get out of his own head right now.
Re: Fill NC-17 :Daddy Dearest 3a/?
anonymous
December 19 2011, 15:31:42 UTC
Jim is still shivering in Leonard's arms, and making a half hearted attempt to stand up and get away. Bones won't let him, can't let him. "Bones, don't, that's not- you don't have-" Jim tries harder to twist out of Bones' grip, but there are things he doesn't know about Bones, like the fact that he got to Ole Miss on a wrestling scholarship, and that he was reigning champion for four years running. The more Jim tries to twist away from him, the more tangled he gets until they're both on the bunk, Jim folded tight against Leonard, with Leonard's arms and legs tight and strong around him, rocking him slow and sweet to some invisible rhythm.
"Bones ain't here baby, just your daddy now, just your daddy."
Jim finally looks up at him then, searching, for something, and Bones holds his gaze, steady, unflinching. Jim nods at what he sees there, and clings to Bones tighter, nodding a silent yes into the crook of Bones' neck, and pushing closer, turning into Bones' caresses.
"There's my good boy," Bones says, and he's almost breathless with it, with the trust that Jim has just given him with hardly a second thought.
"Now," Bones lifts Jim's chin so he can look him in the eyes. "We're gonna go in the fresher, give you a bath and git you ready for bed. That sound good, Jimmy?"
Jim's eyes are wide, and Bones can see the disbelief that mirrors his own, that this is happening, that it's going to keep happening until Jim stops wanting it or needing it. But his want is so deep it almost robs Jim of his voice when he answers, "Yes, daddy."
It shouldn't, god it shouldn't -they've already gone so far beyond the pale he doesn't know if they'll ever get back- but the sweet open way Jim calls him Daddy makes his cock twitch in something more than interest and not much less than lust. He knows Jim feels it, the way he is in Bones' lap, he must, and for a second there is nothing childlike about the way he smirks at Leonard, it's sybaritic the way he shifts in Bones' lap and asks earnestly, so damn earnestly. "Will you carry me there daddy?" McCoy doesn't even recognize his own voice when he answers yes. It creaks like something prehistoric, something primal that makes Jim's own breath hitch.
Re: Fill NC-17 :Daddy Dearest 3b/?
anonymous
December 19 2011, 15:32:56 UTC
-Sorry re: the awkward break, character limits
And yeah, McCoy's cock is really more interested in the proceedings than it has any right to be, but Leonard knows that this is Jim's show. So he sets Jim upright again, has him stand between his legs while Leonard sits on the bed, and carefully peels away Jim's uniform top, and undershirts. Jim leans on his shoulders as Leonard peels off his boots, pants and underwear. Then Leonard does what Jim wants, picks him up like he weighs nothing, and carries him to the bathroom even though Bones has no idea where the strength comes from.
" Baby,you know daddy'll do anything for you, right? Do you understand Jimmy?"
Jim nods once, averting his eyes, and that's not good enough for Leonard, he really needs his boy to understand, to know. He sits Jim on the counter but makes sure to keep close, to let his boy know he's there.
"Look at daddy, baby." Leonard is as gentle as he knows how to be, and it works, Jim is red all over and hot, but he looks, with lowered lashes and his bottom lip fretfully tucked in his teeth, he looks. Bones holds his face, patient thumbs sweeping over his cheekbones, and taking the time to free Jim's plush lip from his teeth with his finger tip. Jim sighs at the contact, opens his eyes and turns his face up to Bones like a flower in warm Georgia sunshine.
"Daddy loves you Jimmy, daddy loves you so much, and he's so proud of you. Can I show you baby? How proud you make me?'
Jim nods, "Please daddy, please sho-"
It's all the permission Leonard needs before he's filling Jim's mouth with his tongue, holding his head in place so Jim can just take it all, take everything Daddy has to give, whimpering sweetly and sliding his own tongue against Leonard's, his hips underneath Leonard's hands are rolling, making aborted attempts to hump the air.
It feels like forever, but logically Leonard knows it can't have been more than a second before he's pulling away, swiping his tongue along Jim's bottom lip like a stamp or seal, a promise. Jim is breathless and red, holding on to McCoy, who is ignoring the fact that they are both half erect, ignoring the fact that he just wants to kiss Jim again, that he needs to do more than kiss him, that he needs to show him.
"Daddy? I love you too. A lot." Jim says I love you like he's facing a firing squad, even though Leonard already told him.
"I know baby." Leonard didn't know, didn't know how deeply he loved Jim, didn't know that Jim felt it just as hard, the way they filled the empty spaces in each other, but he knew the second part was true the moment he gave Jim his name, and Jim gave him his.
Re: Fill NC-17 :Daddy Dearest 4/?
anonymous
January 6 2012, 17:42:30 UTC
He doesn't have to worry about water rations, it's the Captain's prerogative, after all, to use as much or as little of the water as he wants, and Bones is taking full advantage, adjusting the temperature and the flow on the keypad with one hand, while the other hand stays wrapped around his boy's waist, gently stroking the skin there and pulling him in closer. He needs Jim to understand that he is dependable, he wants Jim to lean on him. Jim is so tired, he must be or he'd never give in this sweetly to Leonard, nuzzling at his face and neck and filling Leonard's hands with miles of smooth warm skin, and Leonard wants to soothe away the hurt from every inch of it.
"Stick your toe in Jimmy, is it too warm?" Jim doesn't even answer, just shakes his head no and presses into Leonard, turning his face up for another kiss, which Leonard obliges so willingly. It's chaste this time, just a soft press of lips to let his boy know that Daddy's not going anywhere.
He lowers himself into the water with Jim, bracketing him between his legs and making him lean back against his chest. The water is warm and perfect, and Jim lets Bones wash him clean, rubbing him into pink freshness with the wash cloth while Jim pillows his head on Bones' shoulder, arching into Bones' touch. He isn't paying any attention to Jim's erection, flushed and standing proud with little pearly drops of fluid gathering at the tip.
"Feels good to be so clean doesn't it baby?" Bones whispers softly into Jim's ear, with a little kiss on the shell to punctuate.
"Yeah, Yes Daddy it - ungh - Daddy it feels good" Jim pants as the rocking of his hips makes the water slosh over the edge of the tub
"What's wrong baby? You hurting somewhere?"
Bones is kind of merciless in his teasing, tracing the musculature of Jim's thighs and the thin skin above his pubic bone, and sucking soft bruises into Jim's neck and shoulder. It's dangerous, this control he has over his boy, how easy it is to have this propriety. But it's good too, because he doesn't think he's ever been this hard in his life, but he's also never been in this much control either.
"Is it here?" Bones whispers, wrapping a loose fist around Jim and pumping just once. "You want me to take care of it?"
Jim is shuddering and straining to push his dick into Bones' fist. "Ungh, Daddy please."
"Trust me Jimmy. Do you trust me?"'
"Yes." It's all there, in Jim's eyes, a blue so blue that Leonard feels lost, so he grounds himself again in Jim's lips, holding him in place as he swallows Jim's whimpers and sighs. He maps the shape of his mouth with his tongue, as his hand releases Jim's overly sensitive dick and drifts down to press a finger against Jim's hole.
It's been a hellish run of shifts for the crew, McCoy knows, he understands, really, that they can't have done better than they did. The klingons, having modified technology from Nero, were the definition of stealth. It's a miracle that Chekov and Uhura noticed the subspace anomalies and raised the red alert in time. And as much as he hates to give Spock any kind of credit whatsoever, the damn hobglobin pulled a miracle out of his ass helping Scotty modify the torpedo signatures to pierce the hulls of the ten - ten!- Klingon ships that had surrounded them.
This is what Leonard had been talking about, that first insane day when he'd thrown caution to the wind, listened to Pike and enlisted in Starfleet. The ship was half dead, worse than when they'd torn themselves from the grip of the black hole they'd consigned Nero to, and to lose so many at once. It didn't bear thinking about. Leonard was holed up in his office sipping at the bottle of medicinal whiskey Jim had given him as a "congratulations" and "I'm sorry" for becoming CMO of the flagship. His eyes burned, his back ached, and he didn't know if he could go back out into medbay to face the agonized moans of the crew. He slammed his fist on the table in anger. The first thing the Klingons had targeted had been their med-tech. If he and Chapel hadn't both held sub-specializations in field triage and pre-conventional surgery, it would be little more than a morgue out there. He took another sip of the whiskey, trying to burn away his taste buds, trying to burn away the memory of LIeutenant Matthews dead eyes and the merciless clutch of his burned hands. If it wasn't for Jim.
Leonard got up on unsteady feet and commed Chapel.
"Christine, goin' to quarters for a few, I expect you'll be waking M'Benga and following my lead, Nurse Chapel"
"Yes, doctor. and...Thanks, Len."
"Don't thank me just get some damned sleep."
McCoy slouches out of his office, pointedly ignoring the fact that Sulu and Chekov are curled up in one knotted mess of limbs on the biobed, messing up Sulu's reading. He pretends not to see the way strain threatens to mar Spock's placid face as he keep vigil over Uhura's comatose form, and Scotty is quiet for once, watching and waiting for Christine to finally get done.
"I'm serious Nurse Chapel, and I think our Engineer's been kept waiting long enough" Leonard calls out over his shoulder as he finally leaves his sickbay.
He doesn't know who has the con, when most of the bridge crew is holed up in the MedBay. It can't be Jim, it had better not be Jim, because Jim has been confined to quarters on Leonard's medical authority after collapsing twice out of his captains chair, the second collapse coming on the heels of finally defeating the Klingon commander. McCoy thinks seriously about using his medical override to make sure Jim's in his quarters, but he knows the importance of self care. He needs a shower and a shave at least before he's in any shape to bully Jim into taking care of himself.
When the doors to his quarters slide open, Leonard senses more than sees that he's not alone. And when he comes to the divider, he can see that it's Jim curled up on his bunk, looking small somehow,
somehow altogether different from the swaggering blond powerhouse who'd gotten them through this ordeal. It hits Leonard, then, that Jim is really still just a kid, still in his twenties and still scared, but able to hide it better than anyone. But in his sleep, with his thumb in his mouth and brow still creased with worry, he's not fooling anyone, least of all Bones. Jim needs someone to take care of him, and Bones wants to be that person, needs to be that person.
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But it's different today. They almost lost everything today, and things Leonard didn't know mattered have swung into sharp relief. He's startled a bit out of his reverie by Jim, distracted by the unearthly bright blue of his iris, and how he's staring at Leonard. The thumb is out of his mouth, and Jim is reaching out, still sleepy but determined for Leonard's leg.
"Uhura?" He mumbles, voice roughened with exhaustion and sleep.
Leonard's quiet for a moment, because he doesn't want to have to tell Jim that his communications officer is still in a coma, and will likely stay that way for at least a week while they wait for a neural regenerator. But Jim has always been able to read McCoy like an open book, he sees the answer to his question in the downward turn of McCoy's mouth, and the way he won't quite look Jim in the eye.
"I'm sorry Jim, but she's not out of the woods yet."
"My fault." Jim says, sitting up fully, his sleep warmed body flush against McCoy but his head slung low, and shoulders slumped. "I'm the captain, I'm responsible, it should be me-"
The pain is making Jim's voice crack, and Leonard can feel his sorrow pouring out of him like it's a tangible living thing trying to drag them both under. And Leonard supposes, this must be what it's like, to have the weight of that responsibility relentless and heavy on your shoulders. Jim's eyes, when he finally turns to look Leonard in the face, are red rimmed and wet, and Bones doesn't care if he's breaking all of their invisible rules, he just herds Jim in close to him, wraps him up tight, running broad strokes along his back and arms and anywhere he can reach to let him know that he's here for him.
"Shh, darlin' that's all right, it's all right, nobody blames you baby boy, nobody blames you it's ok."
Jim's face is hot in the crook of his neck, and it seems impossible but he's squirmed even closer to Bones, clutching at his shirt and whispering about how he was scared, how he wished it didn't have to be him making the decisions all the time, how he just wants to let go.
Leonard's half listening, half mesmerized by the downy soft texture of JIm's skin under his fingertips. It clicks for him, somewhere in between Jim's tormented mutterings of regret, and his own soothing nonsense sounds. He understands what he needs to do to help Jim. So he takes a risk.
"Tell daddy about baby, boy, daddy gon' make it go 'way ya hear?"
He can actually feel Jim's face get hotter when he says it, and he knows the goosebumps on Jim's skin aren't from the ambient temperature. They're from the fact that Leonard's hit on it, on THE thing Jim needs to get out of his own head right now.
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"Bones, don't, that's not- you don't have-" Jim tries harder to twist out of Bones' grip, but there are things he doesn't know about Bones, like the fact that he got to Ole Miss on a wrestling scholarship, and that he was reigning champion for four years running. The more Jim tries to twist away from him, the more tangled he gets until they're both on the bunk, Jim folded tight against Leonard, with Leonard's arms and legs tight and strong around him, rocking him slow and sweet to some invisible rhythm.
"Bones ain't here baby, just your daddy now, just your daddy."
Jim finally looks up at him then, searching, for something, and Bones holds his gaze, steady, unflinching.
Jim nods at what he sees there, and clings to Bones tighter, nodding a silent yes into the crook of Bones' neck, and pushing closer, turning into Bones' caresses.
"There's my good boy," Bones says, and he's almost breathless with it, with the trust that Jim has just given him with hardly a second thought.
"Now," Bones lifts Jim's chin so he can look him in the eyes. "We're gonna go in the fresher, give you a bath and git you ready for bed. That sound good, Jimmy?"
Jim's eyes are wide, and Bones can see the disbelief that mirrors his own, that this is happening, that it's going to keep happening until Jim stops wanting it or needing it. But his want is so deep it almost robs Jim of his voice when he answers, "Yes, daddy."
It shouldn't, god it shouldn't -they've already gone so far beyond the pale he doesn't know if they'll ever get back- but the sweet open way Jim calls him Daddy makes his cock twitch in something more than interest and not much less than lust. He knows Jim feels it, the way he is in Bones' lap, he must, and for a second there is nothing childlike about the way he smirks at Leonard, it's sybaritic the way he shifts in Bones' lap and asks earnestly, so damn earnestly. "Will you carry me there daddy?"
McCoy doesn't even recognize his own voice when he answers yes. It creaks like something prehistoric, something primal that makes Jim's own breath hitch.
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And yeah, McCoy's cock is really more interested in the proceedings than it has any right to be, but Leonard knows that this is Jim's show. So he sets Jim upright again, has him stand between his legs while Leonard sits on the bed, and carefully peels away Jim's uniform top, and undershirts. Jim leans on his shoulders as Leonard peels off his boots, pants and underwear. Then Leonard does what Jim wants, picks him up like he weighs nothing, and carries him to the bathroom even though Bones has no idea where the strength comes from.
" Baby,you know daddy'll do anything for you, right? Do you understand Jimmy?"
Jim nods once, averting his eyes, and that's not good enough for Leonard, he really needs his boy to understand, to know. He sits Jim on the counter but makes sure to keep close, to let his boy know he's there.
"Look at daddy, baby." Leonard is as gentle as he knows how to be, and it works, Jim is red all over and hot, but he looks, with lowered lashes and his bottom lip fretfully tucked in his teeth, he looks. Bones holds his face, patient thumbs sweeping over his cheekbones, and taking the time to free Jim's plush lip from his teeth with his finger tip. Jim sighs at the contact, opens his eyes and turns his face up to Bones like a flower in warm Georgia sunshine.
"Daddy loves you Jimmy, daddy loves you so much, and he's so proud of you. Can I show you baby? How proud you make me?'
Jim nods, "Please daddy, please sho-"
It's all the permission Leonard needs before he's filling Jim's mouth with his tongue, holding his head in place so Jim can just take it all, take everything Daddy has to give, whimpering sweetly and sliding his own tongue against Leonard's, his hips underneath Leonard's hands are rolling, making aborted attempts to hump the air.
It feels like forever, but logically Leonard knows it can't have been more than a second before he's pulling away, swiping his tongue along Jim's bottom lip like a stamp or seal, a promise. Jim is breathless and red, holding on to McCoy, who is ignoring the fact that they are both half erect, ignoring the fact that he just wants to kiss Jim again, that he needs to do more than kiss him, that he needs to show him.
"Daddy? I love you too. A lot." Jim says I love you like he's facing a firing squad, even though Leonard already told him.
"I know baby." Leonard didn't know, didn't know how deeply he loved Jim, didn't know that Jim felt it just as hard, the way they filled the empty spaces in each other, but he knew the second part was true the moment he gave Jim his name, and Jim gave him his.
"Let's go take a bath, Jimmy."
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"Stick your toe in Jimmy, is it too warm?" Jim doesn't even answer, just shakes his head no and presses into Leonard, turning his face up for another kiss, which Leonard obliges so willingly. It's chaste this time, just a soft press of lips to let his boy know that Daddy's not going anywhere.
He lowers himself into the water with Jim, bracketing him between his legs and making him lean back against his chest. The water is warm and perfect, and Jim lets Bones wash him clean, rubbing him into pink freshness with the wash cloth while Jim pillows his head on Bones' shoulder, arching into Bones' touch. He isn't paying any attention to Jim's erection, flushed and standing proud with little pearly drops of fluid gathering at the tip.
"Feels good to be so clean doesn't it baby?" Bones whispers softly into Jim's ear, with a little kiss on the shell to punctuate.
"Yeah, Yes Daddy it - ungh - Daddy it feels good" Jim pants as the rocking of his hips makes the water slosh over the edge of the tub
"What's wrong baby? You hurting somewhere?"
Bones is kind of merciless in his teasing, tracing the musculature of Jim's thighs and the thin skin above his pubic bone, and sucking soft bruises into Jim's neck and shoulder. It's dangerous, this control he has over his boy, how easy it is to have this propriety. But it's good too, because he doesn't think he's ever been this hard in his life, but he's also never been in this much control either.
"Is it here?" Bones whispers, wrapping a loose fist around Jim and pumping just once. "You want me to take care of it?"
Jim is shuddering and straining to push his dick into Bones' fist. "Ungh, Daddy please."
"Trust me Jimmy. Do you trust me?"'
"Yes." It's all there, in Jim's eyes, a blue so blue that Leonard feels lost, so he grounds himself again in Jim's lips, holding him in place as he swallows Jim's whimpers and sighs. He maps the shape of his mouth with his tongue, as his hand releases Jim's overly sensitive dick and drifts down to press a finger against Jim's hole.
"Let me clean here first Jimmy. Okay?"
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