Fic: Push (Kirk/McCoy)
Title: Push
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Fandom: Star Trek XI (spoilers)
Summary: Jim doesn’t know when to stop
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 3525
A/N: Response to this prompt at the Star Trek XI Anon Kink Meme. Sequel to Ride. ETA: #2 in the Two Men & a Motorbike Series.
It’s like nothing even happened.
Five days of ‘let’s be normal and forget that we almost had sex on Jessica’. Bones is in avoidance mode, using meetings and classes as weak excuses. Jim is so damn tired of it all. He likes being in control of his life, has since he was old enough to realize that other people try to control it if he doesn’t, and there’s nothing more frustrating than being stuck in this weird sort of limbo.
It isn’t even his fault! Bones is the one who started touching, starting biting and stroking cock and changing everything. Jim has wanted for years, has ached for more, but he’s always been okay with that because it’s Bones. His best friend. Having that sort of relationship is a lot more important than sex. Hell, he can get sex just about anytime he wants it from any number of willing candidates, so it’s not like he’s so desperate to be with Bones that he’d throw everything away for a quickie on his bike.
It feels like that’s what’s happened, though. Bones never avoids him like this. Even after the worst possible behavior in the past, Jim has always known that Bones would be there. It didn’t matter that no one else would be because he’s had Bones. Now, he doesn’t know what he has because everything’s messed up.
That nice little place in his brain where he had Bones stuck and labeled with ‘hands off’ is no longer there because he definitely got hands on last week. Jim tries to compartmentalize that sort of thing because he knows about boundaries and, as reckless as he is, there are some that he just doesn’t cross. Friendship lines matter more than sex, for instance. One is so rare that he has to try to appreciate it, and the other is so common that it’s not worth the effort of caring after the fact. Now that he’s actually screwed around with a friend, he isn’t sure how to not care and pretend it never happened.
Bones doesn’t seem to have that problem. Older and wiser and all that mature shit, Jim figures. Even with all the efforts to avoid him, Jim hasn’t let Bones succeed. He keeps going around, keeps trying to force some sort of acknowledgement, but nothing works. He doesn’t want to talk about it because, really, that’s for girls or those fuckers who claim to be in touch with their feelings in order to get a girl into bed. He’s never had to act all sensitive and shit to get laid, but he’s watched some masters at work in the bars before, and the girls always seem to fall for it. Bones wouldn’t, though, so there’s no point in even trying that whole talking thing.
Jim just wants some sign that it meant something to Bones. It sounds damn pathetic, even in his mind, but it changed everything, so he needs to know that it wasn’t just some random one-time thing, even if it never happens again. That’s the most frustrating fucking part. He isn’t even asking for anything much! Just a simple ‘that was fun, we’re still friends’ would even be sufficient right now. His expectations have lowered more with every passing day, and it’s driving him completely insane not to be able to go to Bones and bitch about this man who is dicking him around with emotions and shit.
To make things even worse, there still hasn’t been any word from Starfleet. He helps save the planet and they can’t even find time to let him know that he’s not expelled for cheating or breaking more rules than he can count after six glasses of whiskey. Everything is messed up right now, on hold while other people make decisions that’ll decide his future, and it makes him so angry that he can’t be good even if there’s a part of him that knows he should try.
For the last four nights, since he gave Bones an entire fucking day to deal with happened on that ride, he’s gone to the bar, got drunk, and started a fight. It’s a solid routine, one that he’s had off and on for the last ten years or so, but it’s one that he thought he might eventually leave behind. Probably not, though. Not even being Captain would replace the satisfaction of a drunken brawl when he’s pissed off and angry at the world.
“Give me another,” he snarls at the bartender, adding a little extra growl in an attempt to sound threatening. He’s already six. No, maybe it was seven. Whatever. He’s had a few, and he knows it won’t be much longer before he’s refused another. Then, he’ll have to figure out a target. Someone big who can make it a worthwhile experience even if he gets his ass kicked. Used to be, Bones would be there scolding him and distracting him from the fighting thing. Now, well, Bones is the reason he’s doing it.
There’s a redhead at the end of the bar who keeps flirting, but he’s not interested. Her tits are too big, and she’s too soft and curvy. It’s not what he wants. Not what he needs. Not that he can get what he wants since Bones has made it clear that he’s not interested in a repeat performance. Could always find another man, try it out and see what it’s like when it goes beyond sucking and stroking, but Jim’s never really been into men, overall. Except Bones, but that’s an exception, not the rule.
He picks up the glass when it’s put in front of him and drinks half of it in one gulp. Even when he tries to get drunk to stop thinking, it doesn’t work. Bones is there in his head, touching him and biting him and it just won’t fucking stop. It’s so pathetic that Jim finally gets one of the things that he’s wanted most for years only to wish that it had never happened if this is what his life is going to be like now. He’d have rather fantasized about having sex with his best friend and continued being with random women without ever knowing what Bones’ cock tastes like.
That’s not a good thing to have on his mind. Jim realizes that after the fact, of course. He can never seem to grasp the whole ‘before you leap’ thing that so many people talk about. Maybe if he could, he’d have taken Jessica out on his own and never involved Bones. They’d be the same as they were last week without all this fucking whatever between them now. He finishes his glass in another gulp that makes his eyes water then slams the glass down on the bar.
He looks around for the bartender as he leans forward slightly. The redhead at the corner is showing off her tits and trying to get free drinks, so he’s stuck waiting with nothing to drink. That’s just wrong. He glares down the bar at them before he looks down at the glasses he’s collecting. One. Two. Three. Four. Fi--
“Damn it, Jim. That’s enough.” --ve
He blinks at the fifth glass before he tilts his head slightly and looks beside him. When he sees Bones, he clenches his jaw and scowls. “Don’t you have a meeting to be at?” he asks snidely before he deliberately looks back at the glasses. Six. Seven. And the new one is eight. He’d miscounted at some point, not that he was keeping track.
“It’s nearly midnight,” Bones points out in that touchy ‘already losing patience, Jim’ tone. Normally, that’d make Jim reevaluate the situation and decide if it was worth pushing or not. Tonight, he doesn’t fucking care.
“If I wanted to know what time it is, I’d buy a watch.” He smirks and snaps his fingers at the bartender, who is still staring at the redhead’s tits. “Stop drooling on her tits and get me another drink. They’re not real anyway.”
“You stupid fuck. Can’t you even go to a bar without getting your ass kicked?” Bones mutters. “It’s always something with you. I heard that they banned you from the dive by the bridge the other day. Is that true?”
“Might be. Dunno. Don’t care. It smells like piss in there anyway.” Jim glares at Bones. “Stop acting like I’m some misbehaving child, Leonard. I don’t need a father, and I sure as hell don’t need you, so fuck off.”
It’s impossible not to feel some satisfaction when he sees a twitch in Bones’ cheek. He likes pushing, after all, and there’s no longer a need to worry about going too far because it’s all messed anyway. What’s Bones going to do, ignore him more? Not possible, so push, push, push. More fun than a brawl, at least.
“You don’t seem to know what you need, Jim.” Bones gives him that ‘I’m so smart because I’m a doctor and you’re not’ look that’s usually kind of adorable but now is just fucking annoying. “Have you looked at yourself lately? Why didn’t you come to me to take care of that eye? It’s still swollen and the cut looks like it might be infected.”
Bones reaches over and drags his thumb over the skin near Jim’s right eye. It’s like nothing even happened last week. Bones looks the same. Sounds the same. Jim is starting to wonder if maybe he just imagined it all. He knows that he didn’t, but it’s becoming surreal. Did it mean so little? If it had been some strange woman that he picked up the bar, he wouldn’t even care. In fact, he’d welcome this attitude. But this is Bones, damn it.
“I don’t need you to take care of me. Besides, you’d have been busy, I’m sure. You’re always busy, aren’t you?” He isn’t drunk, not completely, but he wishes he was because then he might not sound like such a jealous, whining asshole.
“You lying asshole. You need me.” Bones smirks even as he drops his hand. “Do you really thinking getting drunk and beaten every night is going to change that?”
“Bastard.” Jim growls the word, angry suddenly at how fucking smug Bones looks and how amused he seems at all this. He reacts without thinking, drawing his arm back and striking Bones on the chin. Damn, it feels good. “Can’t look so smug with a fist in the face, can you?”
“Damn it, you fuck. That hurt.” Bones rubs his jaw but catches Jim’s fist when he tries to hit again. “They’re going to ban you from this bar, too, if you don’t get a grip on yourself.”
“What do you care?” Jim shifts his weight and uses his other arm to strike Bones in the ribs. “C’mon, Doctor. Fight me. What, are you scared?”
“Enough,” Bones snaps. Before Jim has a chance to do anything, he finds himself shoved against the bar with both his arms behind his back. Bones is right there, pressed against him, and he feels his body shudder even as the angry, nervous energy keeps his senses alive. “You want to fight? Fine. But not here. There are too many cadets here, and you don’t want to get your skinny ass kicked out of Starfleet for fighting, of all fucking things.”
Bones is right, which is so irritating that Jim wants to stomp around like a child. “Fine. Not here,” he agrees, slamming his shoulder against Bones’ as he walks past him deliberately. He glances back to see Bones paying for his drinks and tries not to let the familiar sight diminish his anger. He thinks about the past few days and how screwed up things have been since their late night ride, and that works even better than expected because he’s angrier now.
He doesn’t even wait for Bones to finish settling his bill. He storms out of the bar and kicks the gravel in the parking lot. Jessica is parked around the back, but he doesn’t want to go to her because it just brings back memories. No, they’ll settle this away from her, where she doesn’t have to see it. Well, if she could actually see, which she can’t, obviously. He frowns and rubs his temple. Maybe he’s more drunk than he thought?
“I really hope that the fresh air has cleared your head, Jim.” Bones is talking behind him, and Jim spins around to glare. “Or maybe not. What the hell is your problem? My jaw hurts, you asshole.”
“I don’t have any problems.” Jim frowns and shakes his head. “You’re my problem. That’s what I meant. When I’m finished with you, your jaw won’t be the only thing that hurts.”
Bones has the audacity to roll his eyes instead of looking threatening. The bastard. Kirk charges forward and yelps when he suddenly finds himself tossed over Bones’ shoulder. “I oughta spank you, you know? You’re acting like a childish brat, not that that’s anything new. Stop squirming or I’ll drop you. You’re pretty heavy, for a skinny assed kid.”
“You--you--Put me down right now!” Jim balls his hands into fists and hits Bones on the back. When that doesn’t do anything but make Bones laugh, he reaches down and pinches Bones’ ass. That earns him a hard swat on his ass, and he feels heat flood his face as he realizes that anyone entering or leaving the bar can see him being carried around like some unruly child. Men don’t get carried around by other men this way, damn it. “This is humiliating. I hate you.”
“Sure you do,” Bones says in an obviously placating tone that isn’t at all sincere.
Jim considers kicking, but he doesn’t really want to fall over six feet to the ground. Finally, Bones puts him down. Well, more like drops him, but he’s able to get back onto his feet. They’re behind the bar near the dumpster, and he can see Jessica close by.
“No audience now. I’m sure that fucks up your need for attention, but tough. I want to know what the hell your problem is, and, if you try to hit me again, I’m going to lose patience. Got it?”
“I’d rather not do this in front of her,” Jim mutters as he glances at his motorcycle.
“Her?” Bones starts to laugh. “Oh, Jim. You’re messed up tonight, aren’t you? Did you drink more than those eight glasses? I don’t think Jessica is going to care what we do, seeing as how she’s just a pile of metal.”
“She’s a lot more than that, you fucker,” Jim says loyally. “She might not be a person, but it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have feelings. Of course, you wouldn’t care. You don’t care about anyone but yourself, do you? You don’t want to care. No wonder your wife left you.”
It’s crossing a line, he knows, but he doesn’t care. Push, push, push. That’s his motto tonight, and it feels brilliant trying to make Bones snap. For good measure, he takes another swing at Bones’ face.
“I warned you,” Bones growls as he catches Jim’s fist again and moves quickly. His fist connects with Jim’s jaw and it fucking hurts.
“Damn it, Bones. You hit me!” Jim can taste blood when he drags his tongue over his lower lip, and he looks at Bones with dismay. “I can’t believe you just hit me.”
“You’ve hit me repeatedly. What, did you just think I’d be your willing punching bag or something?” Bones lets go of his fist and runs his fingers through his hair before he grips the back of his neck.
Jim recognizes the gesture from whenever Bones is tense and upset. There’s a slight nagging at the back of his mind that’s warning him to stop pushing, but he’s too far gone to stop now. He’s so angry and hurt over everything that he has to keep going. “It’s not the same as when I hit you,” he denies, not giving Bones a chance to argue that logic. He strikes again, only to find that Bones somehow expected it, the frustrating bastard.
Bones shoves Jim against the side of the dumpster hard enough that Jim catches his breath. “You just can’t stop, can you? It’s always something with you. I’ve about lost my patience, Jim. I’m not a masochist, so there’s no reason for me to put up with your shit all the time.”
“Then why do you?” Jim glares at him, breathing heavily as he licks his lower lip. “I don’t need you! Fuck off and stay out of my life if that’s what you want. I don’t need you. I don’t. I don’t.”
“Yes, you do,” Bones mutters harshly as he pins Jim against the dumpster. “And, God help me, I fucking need you, too.”
Their first kiss is rough and hard and so unexpected that it takes Jim a few seconds to realize that Bones is kissing him. After he does, he becomes an active participant. He grips the back of Bones’ head and parts his lips, fighting to gain control of the kiss. Bones refuses to give it up, though. The bastard. Jim moves his free hand behind Bones, pulling at his shirt, needing to touch bare skin. Finally, he does, and it’s warm and soft and damn it.
Bones moves his leg between Jim’s and pushes up until his thigh is against Jim’s cock. “Fighting makes you hard, doesn’t it?” Bones presses his thigh closer, rubbing against Jim’s erection.
“Just you,” he whispers honestly. He likes fighting, but not because it turns him on really. Fighting Bones is different, though. Everything with Bones is different. It’s so fucking confusing that it makes his head hurt.
“God, Jim.” Bones kisses him again, harder than before, like he’s trying to possess him. Doesn’t he know that he already has? Jim’s been his forever, it sometimes feels like.
It feels good, riding Bones’ thigh, and Jim shifts so that he gets better friction. Bones starts biting at his neck, sucking the skin and nibbling at it. It’s brilliant, and Jim tries to tell him so, but he ends up just moaning something nonsensical instead because it’s too difficult to get words together right now. He looks up at the sky, stares at the stars, as he’s fucked up against the dumpster.
“That’s it, kid. Come for me,” Bones murmurs in between licks and bites. When he bites down hard enough to make a mark, Jim shudders. He comes in his pants like some silly teenager but doesn’t really give a fuck because, damn, this is good. Bones is good.
“Bones, I want…” He can’t finish talking because Bones kisses him. Jim’s never been much for kissing before, has actually screwed more women without having to kiss them than he’s had to, but this is kissing unlike anything he’s ever experienced. He can feel Bones’ unshaven skin against his, can feel tongue and teeth and lips and he just can’t get enough of it. He keeps riding Bones’ thigh as they kiss, until his underwear and jeans start to chafe.
When Bones steps back, Jim blinks at him. Jim can’t imagine what he must look like right now. His lips feel swollen, his face is warm, and he’s panting like he’s just run two miles. He’s also having trouble standing up, so he’s leaning against the dumpster, which he now realizes stinks. The front of his jeans are damp, darker in spots from his come. Bones, of course, looks perfect. The asshole.
“I’m…I need.” Bones growls in frustration and moves his hand over the crotch of his pants. Jim licks his lips when he sees the bulge and doesn’t hesitate as he drops to his knees on the dirty asphalt. This is something he can do, something he’s good at if Bones’ reaction last time is anything to go by. Bones doesn’t stop him as he unfastens his pants and withdraws his hard cock.
“You need me.” Jim remembers the admission as he looks up through half-lidded eyes and licks his lips. It’s an interesting revelation, one that he’ll think about later when he’s sober and calm.
“No talking,” Bones whispers hoarsely. “Not yet.”
Not yet. Jim remembers why he’s so angry, thinks about being avoided for days, and he tightens his grip on Bones’ cock as he says, “We’re best friends. This doesn’t change that. No running this time, yeah?”
Bones closes his eyes and tilts his head back. For a moment, Jim thinks he’s finally pushed too far. He’s scared and leans forward to lick in an effort to make it better. Bones groans before he says, “I’ll try, Jim. It’s all I can do right now.”
Maybe that’s enough. Maybe it’s not. Jim isn’t entirely sure because all this is new to him. He might not know as much as he sometimes like to think, but he knows one thing for certain. He can’t lose Bones. Whatever this is, whatever happens or doesn’t happen, he needs Bones.
End
#1: Ride | #3: Shift
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Fandom: Star Trek XI (spoilers)
Summary: Jim doesn’t know when to stop
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 3525
A/N: Response to this prompt at the Star Trek XI Anon Kink Meme. Sequel to Ride. ETA: #2 in the Two Men & a Motorbike Series.
It’s like nothing even happened.
Five days of ‘let’s be normal and forget that we almost had sex on Jessica’. Bones is in avoidance mode, using meetings and classes as weak excuses. Jim is so damn tired of it all. He likes being in control of his life, has since he was old enough to realize that other people try to control it if he doesn’t, and there’s nothing more frustrating than being stuck in this weird sort of limbo.
It isn’t even his fault! Bones is the one who started touching, starting biting and stroking cock and changing everything. Jim has wanted for years, has ached for more, but he’s always been okay with that because it’s Bones. His best friend. Having that sort of relationship is a lot more important than sex. Hell, he can get sex just about anytime he wants it from any number of willing candidates, so it’s not like he’s so desperate to be with Bones that he’d throw everything away for a quickie on his bike.
It feels like that’s what’s happened, though. Bones never avoids him like this. Even after the worst possible behavior in the past, Jim has always known that Bones would be there. It didn’t matter that no one else would be because he’s had Bones. Now, he doesn’t know what he has because everything’s messed up.
That nice little place in his brain where he had Bones stuck and labeled with ‘hands off’ is no longer there because he definitely got hands on last week. Jim tries to compartmentalize that sort of thing because he knows about boundaries and, as reckless as he is, there are some that he just doesn’t cross. Friendship lines matter more than sex, for instance. One is so rare that he has to try to appreciate it, and the other is so common that it’s not worth the effort of caring after the fact. Now that he’s actually screwed around with a friend, he isn’t sure how to not care and pretend it never happened.
Bones doesn’t seem to have that problem. Older and wiser and all that mature shit, Jim figures. Even with all the efforts to avoid him, Jim hasn’t let Bones succeed. He keeps going around, keeps trying to force some sort of acknowledgement, but nothing works. He doesn’t want to talk about it because, really, that’s for girls or those fuckers who claim to be in touch with their feelings in order to get a girl into bed. He’s never had to act all sensitive and shit to get laid, but he’s watched some masters at work in the bars before, and the girls always seem to fall for it. Bones wouldn’t, though, so there’s no point in even trying that whole talking thing.
Jim just wants some sign that it meant something to Bones. It sounds damn pathetic, even in his mind, but it changed everything, so he needs to know that it wasn’t just some random one-time thing, even if it never happens again. That’s the most frustrating fucking part. He isn’t even asking for anything much! Just a simple ‘that was fun, we’re still friends’ would even be sufficient right now. His expectations have lowered more with every passing day, and it’s driving him completely insane not to be able to go to Bones and bitch about this man who is dicking him around with emotions and shit.
To make things even worse, there still hasn’t been any word from Starfleet. He helps save the planet and they can’t even find time to let him know that he’s not expelled for cheating or breaking more rules than he can count after six glasses of whiskey. Everything is messed up right now, on hold while other people make decisions that’ll decide his future, and it makes him so angry that he can’t be good even if there’s a part of him that knows he should try.
For the last four nights, since he gave Bones an entire fucking day to deal with happened on that ride, he’s gone to the bar, got drunk, and started a fight. It’s a solid routine, one that he’s had off and on for the last ten years or so, but it’s one that he thought he might eventually leave behind. Probably not, though. Not even being Captain would replace the satisfaction of a drunken brawl when he’s pissed off and angry at the world.
“Give me another,” he snarls at the bartender, adding a little extra growl in an attempt to sound threatening. He’s already six. No, maybe it was seven. Whatever. He’s had a few, and he knows it won’t be much longer before he’s refused another. Then, he’ll have to figure out a target. Someone big who can make it a worthwhile experience even if he gets his ass kicked. Used to be, Bones would be there scolding him and distracting him from the fighting thing. Now, well, Bones is the reason he’s doing it.
There’s a redhead at the end of the bar who keeps flirting, but he’s not interested. Her tits are too big, and she’s too soft and curvy. It’s not what he wants. Not what he needs. Not that he can get what he wants since Bones has made it clear that he’s not interested in a repeat performance. Could always find another man, try it out and see what it’s like when it goes beyond sucking and stroking, but Jim’s never really been into men, overall. Except Bones, but that’s an exception, not the rule.
He picks up the glass when it’s put in front of him and drinks half of it in one gulp. Even when he tries to get drunk to stop thinking, it doesn’t work. Bones is there in his head, touching him and biting him and it just won’t fucking stop. It’s so pathetic that Jim finally gets one of the things that he’s wanted most for years only to wish that it had never happened if this is what his life is going to be like now. He’d have rather fantasized about having sex with his best friend and continued being with random women without ever knowing what Bones’ cock tastes like.
That’s not a good thing to have on his mind. Jim realizes that after the fact, of course. He can never seem to grasp the whole ‘before you leap’ thing that so many people talk about. Maybe if he could, he’d have taken Jessica out on his own and never involved Bones. They’d be the same as they were last week without all this fucking whatever between them now. He finishes his glass in another gulp that makes his eyes water then slams the glass down on the bar.
He looks around for the bartender as he leans forward slightly. The redhead at the corner is showing off her tits and trying to get free drinks, so he’s stuck waiting with nothing to drink. That’s just wrong. He glares down the bar at them before he looks down at the glasses he’s collecting. One. Two. Three. Four. Fi--
“Damn it, Jim. That’s enough.” --ve
He blinks at the fifth glass before he tilts his head slightly and looks beside him. When he sees Bones, he clenches his jaw and scowls. “Don’t you have a meeting to be at?” he asks snidely before he deliberately looks back at the glasses. Six. Seven. And the new one is eight. He’d miscounted at some point, not that he was keeping track.
“It’s nearly midnight,” Bones points out in that touchy ‘already losing patience, Jim’ tone. Normally, that’d make Jim reevaluate the situation and decide if it was worth pushing or not. Tonight, he doesn’t fucking care.
“If I wanted to know what time it is, I’d buy a watch.” He smirks and snaps his fingers at the bartender, who is still staring at the redhead’s tits. “Stop drooling on her tits and get me another drink. They’re not real anyway.”
“You stupid fuck. Can’t you even go to a bar without getting your ass kicked?” Bones mutters. “It’s always something with you. I heard that they banned you from the dive by the bridge the other day. Is that true?”
“Might be. Dunno. Don’t care. It smells like piss in there anyway.” Jim glares at Bones. “Stop acting like I’m some misbehaving child, Leonard. I don’t need a father, and I sure as hell don’t need you, so fuck off.”
It’s impossible not to feel some satisfaction when he sees a twitch in Bones’ cheek. He likes pushing, after all, and there’s no longer a need to worry about going too far because it’s all messed anyway. What’s Bones going to do, ignore him more? Not possible, so push, push, push. More fun than a brawl, at least.
“You don’t seem to know what you need, Jim.” Bones gives him that ‘I’m so smart because I’m a doctor and you’re not’ look that’s usually kind of adorable but now is just fucking annoying. “Have you looked at yourself lately? Why didn’t you come to me to take care of that eye? It’s still swollen and the cut looks like it might be infected.”
Bones reaches over and drags his thumb over the skin near Jim’s right eye. It’s like nothing even happened last week. Bones looks the same. Sounds the same. Jim is starting to wonder if maybe he just imagined it all. He knows that he didn’t, but it’s becoming surreal. Did it mean so little? If it had been some strange woman that he picked up the bar, he wouldn’t even care. In fact, he’d welcome this attitude. But this is Bones, damn it.
“I don’t need you to take care of me. Besides, you’d have been busy, I’m sure. You’re always busy, aren’t you?” He isn’t drunk, not completely, but he wishes he was because then he might not sound like such a jealous, whining asshole.
“You lying asshole. You need me.” Bones smirks even as he drops his hand. “Do you really thinking getting drunk and beaten every night is going to change that?”
“Bastard.” Jim growls the word, angry suddenly at how fucking smug Bones looks and how amused he seems at all this. He reacts without thinking, drawing his arm back and striking Bones on the chin. Damn, it feels good. “Can’t look so smug with a fist in the face, can you?”
“Damn it, you fuck. That hurt.” Bones rubs his jaw but catches Jim’s fist when he tries to hit again. “They’re going to ban you from this bar, too, if you don’t get a grip on yourself.”
“What do you care?” Jim shifts his weight and uses his other arm to strike Bones in the ribs. “C’mon, Doctor. Fight me. What, are you scared?”
“Enough,” Bones snaps. Before Jim has a chance to do anything, he finds himself shoved against the bar with both his arms behind his back. Bones is right there, pressed against him, and he feels his body shudder even as the angry, nervous energy keeps his senses alive. “You want to fight? Fine. But not here. There are too many cadets here, and you don’t want to get your skinny ass kicked out of Starfleet for fighting, of all fucking things.”
Bones is right, which is so irritating that Jim wants to stomp around like a child. “Fine. Not here,” he agrees, slamming his shoulder against Bones’ as he walks past him deliberately. He glances back to see Bones paying for his drinks and tries not to let the familiar sight diminish his anger. He thinks about the past few days and how screwed up things have been since their late night ride, and that works even better than expected because he’s angrier now.
He doesn’t even wait for Bones to finish settling his bill. He storms out of the bar and kicks the gravel in the parking lot. Jessica is parked around the back, but he doesn’t want to go to her because it just brings back memories. No, they’ll settle this away from her, where she doesn’t have to see it. Well, if she could actually see, which she can’t, obviously. He frowns and rubs his temple. Maybe he’s more drunk than he thought?
“I really hope that the fresh air has cleared your head, Jim.” Bones is talking behind him, and Jim spins around to glare. “Or maybe not. What the hell is your problem? My jaw hurts, you asshole.”
“I don’t have any problems.” Jim frowns and shakes his head. “You’re my problem. That’s what I meant. When I’m finished with you, your jaw won’t be the only thing that hurts.”
Bones has the audacity to roll his eyes instead of looking threatening. The bastard. Kirk charges forward and yelps when he suddenly finds himself tossed over Bones’ shoulder. “I oughta spank you, you know? You’re acting like a childish brat, not that that’s anything new. Stop squirming or I’ll drop you. You’re pretty heavy, for a skinny assed kid.”
“You--you--Put me down right now!” Jim balls his hands into fists and hits Bones on the back. When that doesn’t do anything but make Bones laugh, he reaches down and pinches Bones’ ass. That earns him a hard swat on his ass, and he feels heat flood his face as he realizes that anyone entering or leaving the bar can see him being carried around like some unruly child. Men don’t get carried around by other men this way, damn it. “This is humiliating. I hate you.”
“Sure you do,” Bones says in an obviously placating tone that isn’t at all sincere.
Jim considers kicking, but he doesn’t really want to fall over six feet to the ground. Finally, Bones puts him down. Well, more like drops him, but he’s able to get back onto his feet. They’re behind the bar near the dumpster, and he can see Jessica close by.
“No audience now. I’m sure that fucks up your need for attention, but tough. I want to know what the hell your problem is, and, if you try to hit me again, I’m going to lose patience. Got it?”
“I’d rather not do this in front of her,” Jim mutters as he glances at his motorcycle.
“Her?” Bones starts to laugh. “Oh, Jim. You’re messed up tonight, aren’t you? Did you drink more than those eight glasses? I don’t think Jessica is going to care what we do, seeing as how she’s just a pile of metal.”
“She’s a lot more than that, you fucker,” Jim says loyally. “She might not be a person, but it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have feelings. Of course, you wouldn’t care. You don’t care about anyone but yourself, do you? You don’t want to care. No wonder your wife left you.”
It’s crossing a line, he knows, but he doesn’t care. Push, push, push. That’s his motto tonight, and it feels brilliant trying to make Bones snap. For good measure, he takes another swing at Bones’ face.
“I warned you,” Bones growls as he catches Jim’s fist again and moves quickly. His fist connects with Jim’s jaw and it fucking hurts.
“Damn it, Bones. You hit me!” Jim can taste blood when he drags his tongue over his lower lip, and he looks at Bones with dismay. “I can’t believe you just hit me.”
“You’ve hit me repeatedly. What, did you just think I’d be your willing punching bag or something?” Bones lets go of his fist and runs his fingers through his hair before he grips the back of his neck.
Jim recognizes the gesture from whenever Bones is tense and upset. There’s a slight nagging at the back of his mind that’s warning him to stop pushing, but he’s too far gone to stop now. He’s so angry and hurt over everything that he has to keep going. “It’s not the same as when I hit you,” he denies, not giving Bones a chance to argue that logic. He strikes again, only to find that Bones somehow expected it, the frustrating bastard.
Bones shoves Jim against the side of the dumpster hard enough that Jim catches his breath. “You just can’t stop, can you? It’s always something with you. I’ve about lost my patience, Jim. I’m not a masochist, so there’s no reason for me to put up with your shit all the time.”
“Then why do you?” Jim glares at him, breathing heavily as he licks his lower lip. “I don’t need you! Fuck off and stay out of my life if that’s what you want. I don’t need you. I don’t. I don’t.”
“Yes, you do,” Bones mutters harshly as he pins Jim against the dumpster. “And, God help me, I fucking need you, too.”
Their first kiss is rough and hard and so unexpected that it takes Jim a few seconds to realize that Bones is kissing him. After he does, he becomes an active participant. He grips the back of Bones’ head and parts his lips, fighting to gain control of the kiss. Bones refuses to give it up, though. The bastard. Jim moves his free hand behind Bones, pulling at his shirt, needing to touch bare skin. Finally, he does, and it’s warm and soft and damn it.
Bones moves his leg between Jim’s and pushes up until his thigh is against Jim’s cock. “Fighting makes you hard, doesn’t it?” Bones presses his thigh closer, rubbing against Jim’s erection.
“Just you,” he whispers honestly. He likes fighting, but not because it turns him on really. Fighting Bones is different, though. Everything with Bones is different. It’s so fucking confusing that it makes his head hurt.
“God, Jim.” Bones kisses him again, harder than before, like he’s trying to possess him. Doesn’t he know that he already has? Jim’s been his forever, it sometimes feels like.
It feels good, riding Bones’ thigh, and Jim shifts so that he gets better friction. Bones starts biting at his neck, sucking the skin and nibbling at it. It’s brilliant, and Jim tries to tell him so, but he ends up just moaning something nonsensical instead because it’s too difficult to get words together right now. He looks up at the sky, stares at the stars, as he’s fucked up against the dumpster.
“That’s it, kid. Come for me,” Bones murmurs in between licks and bites. When he bites down hard enough to make a mark, Jim shudders. He comes in his pants like some silly teenager but doesn’t really give a fuck because, damn, this is good. Bones is good.
“Bones, I want…” He can’t finish talking because Bones kisses him. Jim’s never been much for kissing before, has actually screwed more women without having to kiss them than he’s had to, but this is kissing unlike anything he’s ever experienced. He can feel Bones’ unshaven skin against his, can feel tongue and teeth and lips and he just can’t get enough of it. He keeps riding Bones’ thigh as they kiss, until his underwear and jeans start to chafe.
When Bones steps back, Jim blinks at him. Jim can’t imagine what he must look like right now. His lips feel swollen, his face is warm, and he’s panting like he’s just run two miles. He’s also having trouble standing up, so he’s leaning against the dumpster, which he now realizes stinks. The front of his jeans are damp, darker in spots from his come. Bones, of course, looks perfect. The asshole.
“I’m…I need.” Bones growls in frustration and moves his hand over the crotch of his pants. Jim licks his lips when he sees the bulge and doesn’t hesitate as he drops to his knees on the dirty asphalt. This is something he can do, something he’s good at if Bones’ reaction last time is anything to go by. Bones doesn’t stop him as he unfastens his pants and withdraws his hard cock.
“You need me.” Jim remembers the admission as he looks up through half-lidded eyes and licks his lips. It’s an interesting revelation, one that he’ll think about later when he’s sober and calm.
“No talking,” Bones whispers hoarsely. “Not yet.”
Not yet. Jim remembers why he’s so angry, thinks about being avoided for days, and he tightens his grip on Bones’ cock as he says, “We’re best friends. This doesn’t change that. No running this time, yeah?”
Bones closes his eyes and tilts his head back. For a moment, Jim thinks he’s finally pushed too far. He’s scared and leans forward to lick in an effort to make it better. Bones groans before he says, “I’ll try, Jim. It’s all I can do right now.”
Maybe that’s enough. Maybe it’s not. Jim isn’t entirely sure because all this is new to him. He might not know as much as he sometimes like to think, but he knows one thing for certain. He can’t lose Bones. Whatever this is, whatever happens or doesn’t happen, he needs Bones.
End
#1: Ride | #3: Shift