ST FIC - you're just like a dream (Kirk/McCoy)
Title: you're just like a dream
Rating: NC-17
Genre: PWP
Warning: dub-con, D/s
A/N: Short fill for the prompt 'somnophilia' at jim_and_bones flash challenge from last night.
Bones is beautiful like this, on his belly, sleeping soundly in Jim’s bed, his hair a dark knotted mess on the white pillows and the bruise of Jim’s kisses painted on the side of his neck, an unmistakable mark of possession. When Bones sleeps he’s still and calm, always exhausted after Jim’s through with him, because Jim can’t ever get enough of him, feels the inescapable need to have him every second, all the time.
It keeps him up at night, just like now, has him watch the slow rise and fall of Bones’ back, spellbound at the sight of it. He’s upped the temperature in his quarters so that it’s warm enough to sleep without covers and sheets, so that he can watch Bones without anything hiding him from Jim’s greedy stare.
Jim lets his hand skate down Bones’ back slowly, a barely-there touch ghosting over that smooth skin, down over the round curve of his ass cheeks. He strokes the red marks in the shape of his own palm on Bones’ left buttock, brushes the sore skin with the back of his knuckles, touch feather-light. His eyes keep flicking back to where Bones’ asshole is still glistening and red and fucked open just as it damn well should be, because Jim’s spent hours getting it like this, gaping, wet and ready for whenever Jim wants to get inside that glorious all-enveloping heat.
He presses two fingers in carefully, looks at Bones’ face to check for any signs of discomfort, any signs of waking up. There is none, just Bones burrowing closer into the pillows, his legs spreading like it’s instinct, like getting fucked by Jim is so ingrained in him he doesn’t even have to be conscious for it. The thought is almost unbearably hot, Jim’s cock aches with the need to be inside Bones again, irrationally jealous of his own fingers.
Jim is afraid to make a sound, doesn’t want to break the silence in the room. Just Bones’ even breaths and his own heartbeat pounding restlessly in his ears. There’s a wet squelching noise when Jim moves his fingers, obscene and ridiculously loud, and it has Jim biting his lip and glancing at Bones’ face frantically. But Bones doesn’t even twitch, just sleeps, and Jim releases the breath he’d been holding and slides his fingers back in, three this time.
Jim feels a little sneaky, like he’s keeping a secret, like maybe he’s doing something naughty, but he just can’t help it. Bones looks so peaceful and relaxed and serene like this, quietly snoring. There’s something like innocence, something painfully young, in the way Bones clutches the pillow, hugging it like a teddybear, and Jim wants to mess him up, defile him or something terrible like that, even though Bones is far from innocent and Jim’s defiled him plenty of times. But Bones is all his, and he can do whatever he wants with him, and right now Jim wants him like this, all pliant and sweet.
He moves slowly, silently crouches over Bones’ prone form, sliding his arms parallel with Bones’ so he’s hugging the pillow too, but more importantly he’s hugging Bones, cuddling up close so he can press his mouth against the hicky on Bones’ neck, his chest pressed up snuggly against Bones’ broad back. He carefully bumps Bones’ thighs a little further apart with his knee so he can nestle himself between the V of Bones’ legs, intimate.
His cockhead finds Bones’ entrance immediately, already breaching before Jim makes the conscious decision to start. He fucks all the way inside with the softest little thrusts, tender and gentle, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. It’s incredible, no resistance at all, just a smooth glide, and Jim can’t help a moan at the way Bones’ hole seems to clutch at him hungrily just as it does when Bones is awake and begging for it.
“…Jim…”
Jim looks up, heart in his throat, and Bones is staring at him with his eyes heavy lidded, barely awake but awake nonetheless, and Jim’s stomach does this half-scared, half-excited little jig at being caught doing this, hand in the proverbial cookie jar. But Bones doesn’t say anything so Jim doesn’t either, just rocks his hips in a slow, shallow grind, because he doesn’t want to go too deep, doesn’t want to hit Bones’ prostate and mess up the perfect equilibrium of calm trust and lazy desire that’s right there on Bones’ face.
“Go back to sleep, baby,” Jim whispers lovingly, kissing a soothing trail from Bones’ shoulder blade to his cheek, finishes with a light peck on that pretty pink mouth. Bones’ lips part on a contented sigh, a soft murmur of agreement that ends in a grumbled doctor’s order that Jim’d better get some sleep tonight, too.
End
Rating: NC-17
Genre: PWP
Warning: dub-con, D/s
A/N: Short fill for the prompt 'somnophilia' at jim_and_bones flash challenge from last night.
Bones is beautiful like this, on his belly, sleeping soundly in Jim’s bed, his hair a dark knotted mess on the white pillows and the bruise of Jim’s kisses painted on the side of his neck, an unmistakable mark of possession. When Bones sleeps he’s still and calm, always exhausted after Jim’s through with him, because Jim can’t ever get enough of him, feels the inescapable need to have him every second, all the time.
It keeps him up at night, just like now, has him watch the slow rise and fall of Bones’ back, spellbound at the sight of it. He’s upped the temperature in his quarters so that it’s warm enough to sleep without covers and sheets, so that he can watch Bones without anything hiding him from Jim’s greedy stare.
Jim lets his hand skate down Bones’ back slowly, a barely-there touch ghosting over that smooth skin, down over the round curve of his ass cheeks. He strokes the red marks in the shape of his own palm on Bones’ left buttock, brushes the sore skin with the back of his knuckles, touch feather-light. His eyes keep flicking back to where Bones’ asshole is still glistening and red and fucked open just as it damn well should be, because Jim’s spent hours getting it like this, gaping, wet and ready for whenever Jim wants to get inside that glorious all-enveloping heat.
He presses two fingers in carefully, looks at Bones’ face to check for any signs of discomfort, any signs of waking up. There is none, just Bones burrowing closer into the pillows, his legs spreading like it’s instinct, like getting fucked by Jim is so ingrained in him he doesn’t even have to be conscious for it. The thought is almost unbearably hot, Jim’s cock aches with the need to be inside Bones again, irrationally jealous of his own fingers.
Jim is afraid to make a sound, doesn’t want to break the silence in the room. Just Bones’ even breaths and his own heartbeat pounding restlessly in his ears. There’s a wet squelching noise when Jim moves his fingers, obscene and ridiculously loud, and it has Jim biting his lip and glancing at Bones’ face frantically. But Bones doesn’t even twitch, just sleeps, and Jim releases the breath he’d been holding and slides his fingers back in, three this time.
Jim feels a little sneaky, like he’s keeping a secret, like maybe he’s doing something naughty, but he just can’t help it. Bones looks so peaceful and relaxed and serene like this, quietly snoring. There’s something like innocence, something painfully young, in the way Bones clutches the pillow, hugging it like a teddybear, and Jim wants to mess him up, defile him or something terrible like that, even though Bones is far from innocent and Jim’s defiled him plenty of times. But Bones is all his, and he can do whatever he wants with him, and right now Jim wants him like this, all pliant and sweet.
He moves slowly, silently crouches over Bones’ prone form, sliding his arms parallel with Bones’ so he’s hugging the pillow too, but more importantly he’s hugging Bones, cuddling up close so he can press his mouth against the hicky on Bones’ neck, his chest pressed up snuggly against Bones’ broad back. He carefully bumps Bones’ thighs a little further apart with his knee so he can nestle himself between the V of Bones’ legs, intimate.
His cockhead finds Bones’ entrance immediately, already breaching before Jim makes the conscious decision to start. He fucks all the way inside with the softest little thrusts, tender and gentle, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. It’s incredible, no resistance at all, just a smooth glide, and Jim can’t help a moan at the way Bones’ hole seems to clutch at him hungrily just as it does when Bones is awake and begging for it.
“…Jim…”
Jim looks up, heart in his throat, and Bones is staring at him with his eyes heavy lidded, barely awake but awake nonetheless, and Jim’s stomach does this half-scared, half-excited little jig at being caught doing this, hand in the proverbial cookie jar. But Bones doesn’t say anything so Jim doesn’t either, just rocks his hips in a slow, shallow grind, because he doesn’t want to go too deep, doesn’t want to hit Bones’ prostate and mess up the perfect equilibrium of calm trust and lazy desire that’s right there on Bones’ face.
“Go back to sleep, baby,” Jim whispers lovingly, kissing a soothing trail from Bones’ shoulder blade to his cheek, finishes with a light peck on that pretty pink mouth. Bones’ lips part on a contented sigh, a soft murmur of agreement that ends in a grumbled doctor’s order that Jim’d better get some sleep tonight, too.
End