Star Trek Fic: Wasted Mornings
Title: Wasted Mornings
Fandom: ST: AOS
Rating: M
Warnings: None
Summary: A little affectionate morning sex (AKA a way to spend one of my afternoons in post-surgical recovery 0_~)
This morning wasn’t special. It wasn’t an anniversary or a birthday, they weren’t recovering from a difficult mission, Jim hadn’t been under Leonard’s hands in Sickbay, fighting for his life. Leonard woke first and Jim curled into Leonard’s covers as he always did, snuffling into Leonard’s pillow before resettling into a comfortable sprawl across the covers - Jim could be luxuriant and selfish when he was alone in bed. The only thing that set this morning apart from any other was their schedule. Most days, Jim and Leonard worked Alpha shift. They were both morning people anyway, and working Alpha afforded a convenient opportunity to keep right on going into Beta when there was more work to do than one shift could handle. That tended to be more days than not, dragging on until one of the other realized they’d been off shift for several hours and went to fetch his partner from his office.
On those rare mornings when they were scheduled to start the day on Beta shift Jim would sleep in, but Leonard’s body woke him promptly at 0530. Leonard’s body and mind were too accustomed to long, hard shifts and lives in his hands to allow him to waste a day. Though Jim would wake in an instant when his ship needed him, Leonard could slide carefully out of bed and into their small attached bath without waking him. Leonard felt the familiar jolt of warmth in his chest at the implicit trust implied by Jim’s sprawled, soft limbs.
Leonard took a quick sonic as he usually did, brushed his teeth, walked back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped low on his hips. He considered making coffee or ordering breakfast in, but something about that loose sprawl across their standard-issue sheets, about Jim, made him stop, and watch, counting Jim’s slow breaths with his own. Without really thinking about it, Leonard crossed to the small bedside table, quietly opened it, and slid out the little jar within. He slipped into the bathroom again.
Several minutes later he emerged, dropping the towel to the side of the bed as he slid back in and wrapped his arms around his sleeping captain. “Jim,” he murmured his voice still a bit rough with sleep. Jim responded immediately, stretching in his arms, body long and hard against Leonard’s as Leonard kissed along Jim’s jaw, nuzzled against his neck. “Wake up now, darlin’.”
Jim let out a sleepy chuckle, eyes barely fluttering open as his arms wrapped instinctively around Leonard’s shoulders. “Good morning,” he whispered, his body still sleep-soft as Leonard tugged his hips closer and moved against him. Jim slept in briefs, having spent one too many emergencies commando since taking over as captain of the Enterprise. The cloth slid soft against Leonard’s firming erection, and tightened as Jim hummed approval against Leonard’s mouth.
Jim loved kissing. His lips parted immediately, tongue stroking into Leonard’s mouth to remap familiar territory. His body began to move, meeting Leonard’s, stroking and hardening in rhythm to lazy morning caresses. “Bones?” he asked against Leonard’s mouth, and Leonard smiled, kissing the top lip, the bottom.
“You just gotta wake up a little more, Jim,” he teased, leaning back enough to watch him. That warmth from earlier spread through his belly, his chest, his heart; vibrant, shining Jim Kirk trusting and relaxed in his arms. Sometimes it scared him, loving Jim this way. Sometimes it made him feel an awed joy that ached in the best ways. This morning it made him groan low in his throat and kiss Jim hard, trailing more across his jaw, down the arc of his neck. Jim’s hands tightened on his shoulders, his cock hardening by delicious degrees against Leonard’s. “There you are, then.” Jim started to say something but Leonard shushed him, kissed him with slow deliberation, hooked thumbs in Jim’s briefs and pushed them down, caught them with his feet until they slid over Jim’s ankles and Jim kicked them off. Then Leonard rolled over in Jim’s arms and lifted his leg, hand sliding behind him to search and grip Jim’s cock. Jim moaned then, Leonard’s hand unexpected and slick around him, stroking.
Jim’s hands splayed across Leonard’s stomach as Leonard urged him forward. He moaned against the warmth of Leonard’s neck. “I need to get you-”
“No you don’t,” Leonard’s voice rumbled in his chest, under Jim’s hands, and Jim breathed fuck as he slid inside Leonard’s body, slick and hot and prepared for him. Leonard moaned, right hand sliding to Jim’s hip, feeling the muscles flex as Jim pressed close. “Jim.”
Jim didn’t rush. For a long moment he lay there, chest flush to Leonard’s back, before his hips moved back and forward in a languid thrust. His mouth traced a smattering of freckles across Leonard’s shoulder, his neck, breath warm and steady as he moved. Clever fingers scratched over a nipple, traced Leonard’s sternum, teased his navel and the faint line of hair leading down. Minutes slid by as Leonard’s world narrowed to the languid slide of Jim’s cock, arteries and veins and warm solidity, and Jim’s hand, muscle and tendon and bone wrapping around him and stroking with the same lassitude. “Bones,” he said, and there was so much affection in that voice that Leonard’s hands - one on Jim’s hips, one gripping the sheets, faltered and clenched like kneading. “Mmmm…god, I love you.”
Most people would be surprised to know that Jim Kirk wasn’t afraid of saying I love you, not to Leonard McCoy, but it was a kick in the gut every time anyway. Leonard arched against him, head falling back enough for Jim to press kisses to his cheek, his temple. “Don’t slide out,” he ordered, and Jim huffed a laugh against his neck as Leonard grabbed his pillows, pressed them to his groin, rolled on his stomach. His hand steady on Jim’s hip brought the other man along and then -there. There. Jim on top of him, the movement pushing him deep as Leonard’s legs spread. Jim everywhere, his chest against Leonard’s back, thighs aligned, and he could feel Jim’s heart beating faster against his shoulder, feel the uneven catch in his diaphragm as he caught his breath. Leonard let go, buried his face in Jim’s pillow, tangled his hands in the sheets, and moaned.
Jim breathed his name - Bones, reformed and recreated and born that day on the shuttle. His right hand covered Leonard’s, his left curved beside Bones’ face to bury in his hair. Then he moved. He moved, his heart beating, muscles clenching, mouth pressing hot, open kisses to the back of Leonard’s neck. His hips moved too, his cock, and it couldn’t be called thrusts because he wouldn’t pull away, but grinding, short and firm movements that never gave a break from full and deep. At first, he moved in the same slow rhythm, but gradually he sped up, shifted enough that Leonard jerked and cursed when Jim hit his prostate and then just kept thrusting right there, right there, hot and hard and breathing against Leonard’s back, all warm skin and muscle and Jim.
Words bubbled in Leonard’s chest, words he never said out loud. Fuck and fuck me, Jim not harder but deeper, deeper, god, so deep inside me fuck me Jim don’t stop don’t move don’t stop.
Jim didn’t always talk in bed, but this morning his voice was low and rough with sleep, mouth moving against Leonard’s neck, his shoulders, his ear. “Yeah . . . yeah, Bones, your body, do you have any idea? That voice-” And Leonard wondered if he had spoken aloud after all.
“Jim,” and then, “Yes!” and Leonard’s weight shifted to his elbows and knees enough that he could lift his own hips, meet the thrusts as Jim started to pull out more, drive in harder. Leonard grunted each time Jim’s hips met the swell of his ass, the head stroking firmly past his prostate with a wave of oh fuck yes Jim.
“Bones,” Jim groaned, the hand in Leonard’s hair sliding down his temple, his jaw, the arm sliding beneath his neck and Leonard buried his eyes in the corded muscle. “Leonard,” he breathed, and Leonard’s whole body jerked, rose to meet him. It was his own name, a name he’d heard every day of his life but he didn’t, not anymore, now he was McCoy, Doctor, or Lieutenant Commander or the doc, but not Leonard, and his cock jumped and ground into the soft surface of the pillow from his name on Jim’s lips. The hand not under Jim’s slid down, wrapped around his own dick and stroked, still just slick enough that it didn’t hurt. “Leonard,” Jim said again, “you are the most fucking gorgeous thing I’ve seen in my entire life.”
Leonard’s breath hitched on a laugh, a huff of air that came out as Jim’s name all wrapped up in joy and love and sex. He felt the break in Jim’s rhythm, the stutter of his breath and the moan that meant he was close to coming. But Jim stilled, fully buried, and breathed hard against the back of his neck while he forced his body to bay. Leonard tried to help him, tried to stay still, but Jim had stopped right there, and when he undulated his hips Jim scraped Leonard’s prostate.
“Stop that!” Jim protested, but his voice held laughter instead of anger. “I’ll come right now.”
“Pretty sure,” Leonard managed, “that’s the point of what we’re doing here.”
“Always a smartass.” Jim’s knee nudged behind Leonard’s, pushing it up just a little, his left hand sliding along Leonard’s side, gripping at his waist. Leonard felt Jim shift, his chest pulling away from Leonard’s back as he rested his forehead against Leonard’s neck. The captain moaned. “Love looking at me inside you,” he whispered, and there was something like awe in his voice.
Leonard bucked a little, twisted, met Jim’s mouth in a messy, awkward kiss. Jim gentled it, tilted Leonard’s head, kissed him with that same single-minded focus that he did so many things. Then he shifted away, lifted Leonard’s hips enough for Leonard to have more room to stroke himself as Jim started to thrust longer, faster, chasing down his orgasm. Leonard rocked with it, his free arm bracing against the bed now as his body pulled and pushed to Jim’s movements. Desire coiled in his stomach, fired under his fingers and Jim’s onslaught, and caught in the steady grunts in Jim’s chest at each inward thrust.
All too soon - but not really, not really, sweat at his hairline and pooling along his spine, his thighs aching - Leonard felt again the loss of rhythm, the stuttering of hips. Jim’s hand left his so both could wrap around Leonard’s waist, torn between holding Leonard still and pulling him into those last few wild thrusts as he climaxed with Leonard’s name falling from his mouth - Bones, Bones, Leonard, Bones.
Leonard stroked harder, wanting to come as much with Jim as he could, feeling the muscles in his abdomen clench and fire just as Jim started to fall forward onto his back. The shift pushed Jim’s cock one last time against his prostate, a last flair of pleasure sparking inside as his hand stroked pleasure outside. He came, hand slick with come, breaths shuddering in tempo to the movement of his hands, his hips.
“Mmmm.” Jim’s thoroughly satisfied little noise against his shoulder blade made Leonard chuckle, a low sound more felt than heard. A little nip against his neck and Jim’s hand stroked gently along his sides and ass as he pulled free of Leonard’s body. Leonard stretched out beneath him, sprawling flat on his belly and feeling utterly relaxed. Jim settled on his side, hand tracing the arc of Leonard’s spine until the doctor rolled so they were facing each other.
Jim shifted closer, hand curled loosely on Leonard’s waist, knee sliding between Leonard’s. He tucked his other elbow under his head. “Morning, Bones.”
Leonard felt his mouth quirk into a smile. “Mornin, Jim.”
Jim kissed him, taking his time, tracing his bottom lip before sliding his tongue inside. Jaws and chins brushed, both in need of a shave. “You’re hogging the pillows, Doctor,” he murmured, nibbling at Leonard’s bottom lip before pulling away. He stayed so close their noses almost touched, and Leonard’s eyes couldn’t quite bring him into focus. It didn’t matter. He would know Jim’s features in inky darkness.
“Mm,” Leonard hummed shameless agreement. The hand on his hip trailed up his arm, along his neck, over the curve of his ear. Leonard’s eyes slid closed.
As Jim’s fingers slid into the hair at his temple, scratching gently, the captain mused, “There was a time no one stole my pillows and sheets. I had a whole bed to myself and could sleep as late as I wanted.” He waited until Leonard’s eyes half-opened, one eyebrow lifting interrogatively. Jim smiled, a soft little rare thing, and his voice came out as a whisper. “Those were wasted days, Bones.”
Leonard smiled at him and touched his jaw. His body ached. He’d need another sonic, it was pretty imperative that Jim brush his teeth in the near future, and Jim could use a few more hours of sleep. “I love you too, Jim,” he said, and Jim’s smile spread before he tucked closer, hand sliding to Leonard’s back, head tucking comfortably against Leonard’s shoulder.
Fandom: ST: AOS
Rating: M
Warnings: None
Summary: A little affectionate morning sex (AKA a way to spend one of my afternoons in post-surgical recovery 0_~)
This morning wasn’t special. It wasn’t an anniversary or a birthday, they weren’t recovering from a difficult mission, Jim hadn’t been under Leonard’s hands in Sickbay, fighting for his life. Leonard woke first and Jim curled into Leonard’s covers as he always did, snuffling into Leonard’s pillow before resettling into a comfortable sprawl across the covers - Jim could be luxuriant and selfish when he was alone in bed. The only thing that set this morning apart from any other was their schedule. Most days, Jim and Leonard worked Alpha shift. They were both morning people anyway, and working Alpha afforded a convenient opportunity to keep right on going into Beta when there was more work to do than one shift could handle. That tended to be more days than not, dragging on until one of the other realized they’d been off shift for several hours and went to fetch his partner from his office.
On those rare mornings when they were scheduled to start the day on Beta shift Jim would sleep in, but Leonard’s body woke him promptly at 0530. Leonard’s body and mind were too accustomed to long, hard shifts and lives in his hands to allow him to waste a day. Though Jim would wake in an instant when his ship needed him, Leonard could slide carefully out of bed and into their small attached bath without waking him. Leonard felt the familiar jolt of warmth in his chest at the implicit trust implied by Jim’s sprawled, soft limbs.
Leonard took a quick sonic as he usually did, brushed his teeth, walked back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped low on his hips. He considered making coffee or ordering breakfast in, but something about that loose sprawl across their standard-issue sheets, about Jim, made him stop, and watch, counting Jim’s slow breaths with his own. Without really thinking about it, Leonard crossed to the small bedside table, quietly opened it, and slid out the little jar within. He slipped into the bathroom again.
Several minutes later he emerged, dropping the towel to the side of the bed as he slid back in and wrapped his arms around his sleeping captain. “Jim,” he murmured his voice still a bit rough with sleep. Jim responded immediately, stretching in his arms, body long and hard against Leonard’s as Leonard kissed along Jim’s jaw, nuzzled against his neck. “Wake up now, darlin’.”
Jim let out a sleepy chuckle, eyes barely fluttering open as his arms wrapped instinctively around Leonard’s shoulders. “Good morning,” he whispered, his body still sleep-soft as Leonard tugged his hips closer and moved against him. Jim slept in briefs, having spent one too many emergencies commando since taking over as captain of the Enterprise. The cloth slid soft against Leonard’s firming erection, and tightened as Jim hummed approval against Leonard’s mouth.
Jim loved kissing. His lips parted immediately, tongue stroking into Leonard’s mouth to remap familiar territory. His body began to move, meeting Leonard’s, stroking and hardening in rhythm to lazy morning caresses. “Bones?” he asked against Leonard’s mouth, and Leonard smiled, kissing the top lip, the bottom.
“You just gotta wake up a little more, Jim,” he teased, leaning back enough to watch him. That warmth from earlier spread through his belly, his chest, his heart; vibrant, shining Jim Kirk trusting and relaxed in his arms. Sometimes it scared him, loving Jim this way. Sometimes it made him feel an awed joy that ached in the best ways. This morning it made him groan low in his throat and kiss Jim hard, trailing more across his jaw, down the arc of his neck. Jim’s hands tightened on his shoulders, his cock hardening by delicious degrees against Leonard’s. “There you are, then.” Jim started to say something but Leonard shushed him, kissed him with slow deliberation, hooked thumbs in Jim’s briefs and pushed them down, caught them with his feet until they slid over Jim’s ankles and Jim kicked them off. Then Leonard rolled over in Jim’s arms and lifted his leg, hand sliding behind him to search and grip Jim’s cock. Jim moaned then, Leonard’s hand unexpected and slick around him, stroking.
Jim’s hands splayed across Leonard’s stomach as Leonard urged him forward. He moaned against the warmth of Leonard’s neck. “I need to get you-”
“No you don’t,” Leonard’s voice rumbled in his chest, under Jim’s hands, and Jim breathed fuck as he slid inside Leonard’s body, slick and hot and prepared for him. Leonard moaned, right hand sliding to Jim’s hip, feeling the muscles flex as Jim pressed close. “Jim.”
Jim didn’t rush. For a long moment he lay there, chest flush to Leonard’s back, before his hips moved back and forward in a languid thrust. His mouth traced a smattering of freckles across Leonard’s shoulder, his neck, breath warm and steady as he moved. Clever fingers scratched over a nipple, traced Leonard’s sternum, teased his navel and the faint line of hair leading down. Minutes slid by as Leonard’s world narrowed to the languid slide of Jim’s cock, arteries and veins and warm solidity, and Jim’s hand, muscle and tendon and bone wrapping around him and stroking with the same lassitude. “Bones,” he said, and there was so much affection in that voice that Leonard’s hands - one on Jim’s hips, one gripping the sheets, faltered and clenched like kneading. “Mmmm…god, I love you.”
Most people would be surprised to know that Jim Kirk wasn’t afraid of saying I love you, not to Leonard McCoy, but it was a kick in the gut every time anyway. Leonard arched against him, head falling back enough for Jim to press kisses to his cheek, his temple. “Don’t slide out,” he ordered, and Jim huffed a laugh against his neck as Leonard grabbed his pillows, pressed them to his groin, rolled on his stomach. His hand steady on Jim’s hip brought the other man along and then -there. There. Jim on top of him, the movement pushing him deep as Leonard’s legs spread. Jim everywhere, his chest against Leonard’s back, thighs aligned, and he could feel Jim’s heart beating faster against his shoulder, feel the uneven catch in his diaphragm as he caught his breath. Leonard let go, buried his face in Jim’s pillow, tangled his hands in the sheets, and moaned.
Jim breathed his name - Bones, reformed and recreated and born that day on the shuttle. His right hand covered Leonard’s, his left curved beside Bones’ face to bury in his hair. Then he moved. He moved, his heart beating, muscles clenching, mouth pressing hot, open kisses to the back of Leonard’s neck. His hips moved too, his cock, and it couldn’t be called thrusts because he wouldn’t pull away, but grinding, short and firm movements that never gave a break from full and deep. At first, he moved in the same slow rhythm, but gradually he sped up, shifted enough that Leonard jerked and cursed when Jim hit his prostate and then just kept thrusting right there, right there, hot and hard and breathing against Leonard’s back, all warm skin and muscle and Jim.
Words bubbled in Leonard’s chest, words he never said out loud. Fuck and fuck me, Jim not harder but deeper, deeper, god, so deep inside me fuck me Jim don’t stop don’t move don’t stop.
Jim didn’t always talk in bed, but this morning his voice was low and rough with sleep, mouth moving against Leonard’s neck, his shoulders, his ear. “Yeah . . . yeah, Bones, your body, do you have any idea? That voice-” And Leonard wondered if he had spoken aloud after all.
“Jim,” and then, “Yes!” and Leonard’s weight shifted to his elbows and knees enough that he could lift his own hips, meet the thrusts as Jim started to pull out more, drive in harder. Leonard grunted each time Jim’s hips met the swell of his ass, the head stroking firmly past his prostate with a wave of oh fuck yes Jim.
“Bones,” Jim groaned, the hand in Leonard’s hair sliding down his temple, his jaw, the arm sliding beneath his neck and Leonard buried his eyes in the corded muscle. “Leonard,” he breathed, and Leonard’s whole body jerked, rose to meet him. It was his own name, a name he’d heard every day of his life but he didn’t, not anymore, now he was McCoy, Doctor, or Lieutenant Commander or the doc, but not Leonard, and his cock jumped and ground into the soft surface of the pillow from his name on Jim’s lips. The hand not under Jim’s slid down, wrapped around his own dick and stroked, still just slick enough that it didn’t hurt. “Leonard,” Jim said again, “you are the most fucking gorgeous thing I’ve seen in my entire life.”
Leonard’s breath hitched on a laugh, a huff of air that came out as Jim’s name all wrapped up in joy and love and sex. He felt the break in Jim’s rhythm, the stutter of his breath and the moan that meant he was close to coming. But Jim stilled, fully buried, and breathed hard against the back of his neck while he forced his body to bay. Leonard tried to help him, tried to stay still, but Jim had stopped right there, and when he undulated his hips Jim scraped Leonard’s prostate.
“Stop that!” Jim protested, but his voice held laughter instead of anger. “I’ll come right now.”
“Pretty sure,” Leonard managed, “that’s the point of what we’re doing here.”
“Always a smartass.” Jim’s knee nudged behind Leonard’s, pushing it up just a little, his left hand sliding along Leonard’s side, gripping at his waist. Leonard felt Jim shift, his chest pulling away from Leonard’s back as he rested his forehead against Leonard’s neck. The captain moaned. “Love looking at me inside you,” he whispered, and there was something like awe in his voice.
Leonard bucked a little, twisted, met Jim’s mouth in a messy, awkward kiss. Jim gentled it, tilted Leonard’s head, kissed him with that same single-minded focus that he did so many things. Then he shifted away, lifted Leonard’s hips enough for Leonard to have more room to stroke himself as Jim started to thrust longer, faster, chasing down his orgasm. Leonard rocked with it, his free arm bracing against the bed now as his body pulled and pushed to Jim’s movements. Desire coiled in his stomach, fired under his fingers and Jim’s onslaught, and caught in the steady grunts in Jim’s chest at each inward thrust.
All too soon - but not really, not really, sweat at his hairline and pooling along his spine, his thighs aching - Leonard felt again the loss of rhythm, the stuttering of hips. Jim’s hand left his so both could wrap around Leonard’s waist, torn between holding Leonard still and pulling him into those last few wild thrusts as he climaxed with Leonard’s name falling from his mouth - Bones, Bones, Leonard, Bones.
Leonard stroked harder, wanting to come as much with Jim as he could, feeling the muscles in his abdomen clench and fire just as Jim started to fall forward onto his back. The shift pushed Jim’s cock one last time against his prostate, a last flair of pleasure sparking inside as his hand stroked pleasure outside. He came, hand slick with come, breaths shuddering in tempo to the movement of his hands, his hips.
“Mmmm.” Jim’s thoroughly satisfied little noise against his shoulder blade made Leonard chuckle, a low sound more felt than heard. A little nip against his neck and Jim’s hand stroked gently along his sides and ass as he pulled free of Leonard’s body. Leonard stretched out beneath him, sprawling flat on his belly and feeling utterly relaxed. Jim settled on his side, hand tracing the arc of Leonard’s spine until the doctor rolled so they were facing each other.
Jim shifted closer, hand curled loosely on Leonard’s waist, knee sliding between Leonard’s. He tucked his other elbow under his head. “Morning, Bones.”
Leonard felt his mouth quirk into a smile. “Mornin, Jim.”
Jim kissed him, taking his time, tracing his bottom lip before sliding his tongue inside. Jaws and chins brushed, both in need of a shave. “You’re hogging the pillows, Doctor,” he murmured, nibbling at Leonard’s bottom lip before pulling away. He stayed so close their noses almost touched, and Leonard’s eyes couldn’t quite bring him into focus. It didn’t matter. He would know Jim’s features in inky darkness.
“Mm,” Leonard hummed shameless agreement. The hand on his hip trailed up his arm, along his neck, over the curve of his ear. Leonard’s eyes slid closed.
As Jim’s fingers slid into the hair at his temple, scratching gently, the captain mused, “There was a time no one stole my pillows and sheets. I had a whole bed to myself and could sleep as late as I wanted.” He waited until Leonard’s eyes half-opened, one eyebrow lifting interrogatively. Jim smiled, a soft little rare thing, and his voice came out as a whisper. “Those were wasted days, Bones.”
Leonard smiled at him and touched his jaw. His body ached. He’d need another sonic, it was pretty imperative that Jim brush his teeth in the near future, and Jim could use a few more hours of sleep. “I love you too, Jim,” he said, and Jim’s smile spread before he tucked closer, hand sliding to Leonard’s back, head tucking comfortably against Leonard’s shoulder.