Fic: All I Want For Christmas Is ... Inappropriate (NC-17, 6a/6)
Warnings for this part: Porn, and lots of it.
Back to Part 5
Part 6a
Jim started watching the driveway at a quarter to four in the afternoon. Oddly, he wasn’t nervous. But he was keyed up like nobody’s business, and couldn’t keep his mind on anything other than Bones, who would be there any second. He double-checked all his personal areas of the house, to make sure they were guest-ready. His study was messy-there was really nothing he could do about all the books, piled everywhere, that just wouldn’t fit on the shelves. But the room was clean. He fluffed up the pillows on the fold-out couch that the boys slept on when they visited. He put some books that he thought would be suitably impressive on the arm of the recliner, and then, irritated with himself, put them back.
The upstairs bathroom, which was his alone, unless Sam’s family was staying over, was sparkling from the cleaning he’d given it earlier. He’d gone back and forth about whether to put out a second towel, but thought it might be presumptuous. But hell, if Bones made it to the upstairs bathroom, things were probably going well. But … it also wouldn’t be hard to get out a second towel if it were needed.
“Aargh!” Jim groaned aloud. “Stop it, Kirk! What are you, fifteen, on your first date?”
Nonetheless, he gave his room one last inspection. He’d changed the sheets already, and had moved his pile of “already worn but not so dirty they need to go in the laundry” clothes to the floor of his closet. He’d put away some childhood items that a woman might have thought were cute, but that he’d be embarrassed to have another man see: a remote control car he still used with the boys; his favorite toy spaceship; a ragged teddy bear.
He frowned into his room.
“Ya know, screw that,” he said. He retrieved the three childhood items from the closet, and put them back where they belonged. “He wants to know me. Me. So Millennium Falcon, you go right back where I like you.”
Just as Jim finished arranging the spaceship on the dresser, he was distracted by the crunch of snow in the driveway. He thundered down the stairs, the way his mother had been trying to get him not to do since he was five, and threw open the front door.
“Bones!” he called, jumping up and down. “Just put the car by mine. And come on in!”
A minute later, Len was stomping snow off his boots on the doormat, and then he was finally, finally really there.
“Hey,” Jim said, grinning from ear to ear. “Good to see you.”
“Good to see you too,” Len replied. “Should I even take off my boots? Like, are we going straight to the barn?”
“No no, come on in first. We have to go to the barn the back way anyhow.”
“Okay,” Len said, as Jim took his coat and hung it on a hook by the front door. Len left his boots on the tray under the coat-hooks, and set the messenger bag he was carrying there as well. When he turned around, Jim was right there.
“Hi,” Jim said, leaning in and kissing Len almost chastely.
Len burst out laughing. “What the hell was that?” he asked, pulling Jim in by his waist for a proper kiss, which left them both flushed.
“I guess it was me being lame,” Jim said.
“You’re not lame,” Len said quietly, tracing Jim’s cheekbone with his thumb. “We don’t need to be nervous, okay? I like spending time with you-hell, I’ve been looking forward to going into the barn and shoveling cow shit or whatever the hell we’re gonna do, just to be around you, and to know you more.”
“Yeah,” Jim said. “Me too.”
“Good.”
“Okay.” Jim shifted in his socked feet. “So-I guess we might as well go out to the barn. You’re wearing stuff you don’t mind if it gets messed up, right? And longjohns, like I said?”
“Yep!”
“Good-we’ve got a couple spare pairs of coveralls; there’s one that’ll fit you for sure. Barn boots, too. What are you, like a twelve?”
“That’ll work,” Len said.
“C’mon-all the stuff that gets used in the barn is in a mud room in the back,” Jim said.
They traipsed through the house, and Jim showed Len to a vestibule by the back door. Jim’s and Winona’s insulated coveralls and boots were obvious. Jim rummaged through a closet, and tossed items out behind him.
“Try these,” Jim said, turning around with a pair of heavy rubber boots, and a pair of worn but warm-looking insulated brown coveralls. “And-wait. You can’t be serious.”
Len raised his eyebrows. “About what?”
“Your socks,” Jim said, pointing at Len’s feet, which were encased in a single pair of wool hiking socks.
“Um, these are my warmest socks.”
Jim shook his head. “Stay there; I’ll be right back.”
Len heard thundering on the stairs, and a pause, and then more thundering, and Jim reappeared with a very thick pair of socks. “Put these on over what you’ve got, and that should be fine.”
“Okay,” Len said. He got all dressed up, and Jim looked him up and down. Len was still wearing the hat he’d come in with, and had put his gloves back on.
“Gloves?” Jim asked.
Len held out his hands.
“No, no no no,” Jim said. He stripped the thick insulated leather gloves off his own hands, and gave them to Len, and rifled through the closet for another pair, which he then put on. “Your gloves are warm enough, but don’t have any protection to them. Can’t have you messing up your doctor hands.”
“Good point,” Len said.
“Not that we’ll be doing anything really dangerous-I just wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.
“Thanks,” Len said. “So-are we ready?”
“Yep!”
On the way out to the barn, Jim told Len about what they’d be doing.
“Almost everything is somewhat automated, but there are still plenty of things to do by hand. Like spreading the hay in the feed troughs, and disinfecting the teats, and putting the milking machines on,” Jim said. “You’ll probably be horrified by it all. And I should warn you-it doesn’t smell nice in there.”
Len laughed. “Recall our first meeting. I work in an emergency room. If it’s nasty, and it’s biological, I’ve smelled it.”
“Right,” Jim said.
They reached the cow barn-a long, low building with a rounded roof, and ventilation fans spinning lazily at either end. They entered the building, and Jim started explaining everything in sight-the automatically-cleaning manure gutter, which really looked like a long conveyor belt, the automatic water bowls, and other modern accouterments which allowed the Kirks to have such a large herd without having many, many full-time employees.
Len looked at the ceiling, where miles of pipes carried milk from the automatic milking machines to the tank room. He listened and watched as Jim showed him how to work the automatic milking device that would need to be put on each cow.
“And Dr. Bones, don’t get all carried away with cleaning the teats. It’s not a surgical scrub. The point is just getting crud off, and disinfecting a bit,” Jim said.
“Okay, Farm Boy,” Len said. “I think I’ve got it. When it’s time to do that, you watch me a few times, and make sure I’m doing everything right.”
“Good idea. Okay, so first …” Jim launched into an explanation of how they’d inspect the herd, and spread hay around in the hay racks, and everything else they’d do. “So, let’s go get a couple bales of hay.”
Jim walked Len through the inspection and the feeding. He showed Len the cow that Chris Pike had asked about, and Len could see nice pink granulation tissue filling in what looked like it used to be a nasty ulcer. When the hay spreading was done, Jim started demonstrating the automatic milking equipment.
The units were kept suspended from the ceiling, so they couldn’t fall into the muck on the floor. When Jim needed the first one, it happened to be right over his head.
“Hey Bones, grab me that unit, will you?” Jim asked, a grin stretching all the way across his face.
“What,” Len said, reaching up above Jim and putting them nose to nose, “this one here?”
“That’s the one,” Jim said, stealing a kiss as Len leaned in closer.
“You want me to get it down?” Len asked, now cheek to cheek with Jim.
“Eventually,” Jim said. He pulled off one of his gloves, to cradle Len’s cheek, and kissed him again, and again.
“We’re kissing,” Len said between kisses, “in your barn, in front of a whole herd of cows.”
“Yep,” Jim said. “They don’t mind.”
A cow mooed right behind Len, and he jumped.
“I thought you said they didn’t mind,” Len said, scowling at the cow.
“They don’t. That was an expression of appreciation,” Jim said. “Good ol’ …” Jim looked at the inside of the cow's ear. "Number 316. She’s been rooting for us for a while, now.”
“Uh huh,” Len said skeptically. “So, Farm Boy, show me your stuff. Let’s milk a cow.”
“As you wish,” Jim said, completely straight faced.
Len raised one eyebrow. “Now I never woulda thought you’d get that reference.”
“I’m full of surprises,” Jim said.
By seven, the milking was done, and the rest of the chores were done for the evening.
“You hungry?” Jim asked.
“God, yes. I could eat a whole cow.”
“How about spaghetti and meatballs?” Jim said. “And broccoli.”
“That’ll do just fine, darlin’,” Len said.
“Good. Let’s hose our boots down, then we can go in and I’ll make dinner.”
“We’ll make dinner,” Len said.
“You’re on,” Jim said.
Fifteen minutes later, they were cleaned up, changed, and in the kitchen. Jim was rolling meatballs, and Len was trimming broccoli. Neither task took long, and once Jim had cooked the meatballs, the spaghetti still had a few minutes to go until it was done.
“I’m beat,” Jim said. “Let’s go take a load off in the living room until the timer beeps.”
“Lead the way,” Len said, not really sure what could happen in three minutes, but sure it would be pleasant.
Jim led Len out to the living room they’d passed through earlier, and plopped down onto the sofa with a “flumph.” He patted the cushion next to him, and Len sat as well. Jim immediately leaned into him, and put his head on Len’s shoulder. Len automatically put his arm around Jim. They sat there for a moment, facing the dry-looking Christmas tree in the corner.
“I love that you’re here,” Jim said. “I love that you did chores with me. Thanks for coming.”
“I like being here,” Len said. “Though I have to admit I have this perpetual feeling that your mother will be home any minute.”
“What,” Jim said, “and see us doing this?” He pivoted swiftly so he was crouched over Len, knees on either side of him, and kissed him.
Len chuckled into the kiss, reaching around behind Jim and holding onto him. He slipped his hands under Jim’s sweater, leaving only the cotton of his long-sleeved t-shirt between him and the skin he fairly desperately, at this point, wanted to get his hands on.
Predictably, the timer beeped just then. Jim groaned and put his feet on the floor, still leaning over Len.
“C’mon. Let’s eat,” Jim said.
“Don’t get too excited there,” Len said, not yet standing up. “Your enthusiasm for dinner is low enough it makes me wonder what’s wrong with it.”
Quick as a flash, Jim was back on Len.
“Dinner,” he breathed in Len’s ear, “is not what I’m excited about today.”
Len traced Jim’s lips with a single finger, then trailed his finger down Jim’s chin and neck, and back up again.
“Well, then, sweetheart, does dessert strike your fancy a little better?” Len said, nostrils flaring as he imagined what dessert might entail.
“Fuck, yes, Bones,” Jim said throatily.
The kitchen timer beeped again insistently, announcing that its call had not yet been heeded.
“Then I suggest,” Len said in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, “that we get the hell on with dinner, and save some room for dessert.”
Keeping his eyes locked on Len’s, Jim stood up, and held a hand out. Len took his hand, and Jim helped him off the deep couch.
Predictably, dinner didn’t take long. They sat at the round table on one end of the kitchen, twining their socked feet together under the table, and occasionally feeding each other a bite of food. Jim made sure to eat enough that he wouldn’t be hungry in two hours, but not enough to weigh him down. He was pretty sure Len was doing the same, since after his declaration that he could eat one of the herd, he only ate what looked like a modest portion to Jim. Jim also had to admit to himself that the butterflies in his stomach played a role in his own modest consumption.
Just as they were finishing, Jim got quiet and contemplative, which Len saw as the exact opposite of how he’d seemed just a few minutes earlier.
“What’s going on, Jim?” Len asked, frowning slightly. “You look worried. Or somethin’.”
“Well,” Jim said, “something just kind of occurred to me, that I kind of need to ask you.”
“All right,” Len said. “Ask away.”
“So, you were married, right, and you said you had this one … uh, fling, with a guy. But … shoot, how do I even ask this?”
“Just ask. You won’t embarrass me,” Len said, taking Jim’s hand in both of his own. “And I won’t laugh. I promise.”
“Okay.” Jim blew out a breath. “You’ve, like, done it, with guys, right?”
Len smiled, since he’d promised not to laugh. “Sure have, darlin’. There was plenty of time before I got married to have sex with men. And women. With my preferences leaning towards men, but … it was Georgia, and I met who I thought was the right woman, so …” Len stopped short. “That’s not what you’re asking though. My final answer is that yes, I certainly have. So there’s no need to worry about me being some blushing bride.”
“That’s about what I thought,” Jim said. “Pretty much sums me up too. Except the married part. And the Georgia part.”
“Good.” Len’s lips quirked up in a small smile.
“So here’s some more news,” Jim said. “I have a hard and fast agreement with my mother that I don’t leave dirty dishes lying around.”
“Bet that’s not the only thing you have that’s hard and fast,” Len said. “But hey, let’s do some dishes.”
Jim grinned. “You’re a dirty old man, you know that?”
“Oh, I do, darlin’. I sure do.”
Jim put the leftovers away, while Len got started with a sink full of hot, soapy water. He quickly washed the glasses, plates, pots, and pans, while Jim rinsed. When Len drained the sink, Jim tossed him another dish towel, and they dried the rest of the dishes together.
When the last pot was set on the stove to air-dry, Jim started spinning his towel in an ages-old motion that would turn a humble houseware into a tool of war.
“Oh, is that what’s happening now?” Len said, twirling his own towel, and backing away to keep his rear outside of what he judged to be the distance equal to the length of Jim’s arm plus the length of a dishtowel. “Give it your best shot, Farm Boy.” He kept his distance, but turned to the side and slapped his own butt with his palm.
“As you wish,” Jim said, lunging forwards and planting a well-aimed snap of the towel right on Len’s butt check.
Len laughed and jumped away.
“Some might say I should turn the other cheek, but …”
He feinted going straight at Jim, but took an end run around the kitchen island, catching Jim off guard,. Before Jim could get out of the way, he landed the end of his own dishtowel on Jim’s posterior.
Jim’s ass stung from the snapping Len had just given it. The wicked grin on Len’s face was a pleasure to see, and Jim found himself wanting to kiss that grin.
So he did. He used his own linen dishtowel to encircle Len’s waist, and pull their bodies together. He dropped the towel, in favor of jamming his hands in Len’s back pockets. Bones’s ass felt just as good as Jim thought it would-maybe even better.
Jim found himself attacking Len’s neck with vampire-like voraciousness, and felt more than heard Bones humming his approval. He felt Len’s hands slide up his body, leaving trails of heat even through Jim’s clothing. Those hands cupped Jim’s face, and brought it up for a kiss-a real kiss, deep and long, not at all like the playful ones they’d stolen in the barn or the kitchen. This was a seriously intense kiss; the gateway from one part of their evening to another.
Jim pulled away just enough to whisper against Bones’s lips. “Come upstairs. Couch. My study.”
“You bet,” Len said. “Lead on.”
“Oh, I’m not leading you on,” Jim said, nuzzling Bones’s ear. “We’re gonna start on the couch, and see what happens. The bedroom’s open for business, too, if we feel like it.”
“I’m pretty sure we’ll feel like it,” Len said. “But here’s the thing. I’ll say this now, so I don’t have to wreck the mood later. Safe sex. No fluid exchange, in any orifice, except for spit. Period.”
Jim nodded. “I’m cool with that.”
“So I’m gonna take a little trip to my bag, and then you’re gonna show me this couch. Be right back.”
Jim didn’t let Leonard go to the coat hooks by himself. He kept his hand in a back pocket, and followed Len as he retrieved his drug-store purchases from the messenger bag he’d left on the floor by the coats. He led Len up the stairs to the study, and sat him on the couch, kneeling on the floor in front of his parted knees so their faces were at the same level. They locked eyes for just a moment, Len’s hand on the back of Jim’s neck, before crashing together, mouths hungry, lips insatiable, hands everywhere.
They made out like teenagers for a few minutes, fully clothed, until Len reached down to the hem of Jim’s long-sleeved t-shirt, and pulled it up over his head. Jim cooperated, raising his arms and helping to fling the shirt away, and then, getting half up on the sofa so he could reach, yanked Len’s shirt off and tossed it aside. Their hands and lips were greedy for the new expanses of skin made available. Len groaned and carded his hand through Jim’s hair as Jim’s mouth latched on to a nipple, swirling, leaving hot trails that cooled swiftly when he switched to the other side. He kissed, nipped, and licked his way down to Len’s navel, and then back up again.
“Yeah, darlin’, bring that hot mouth of yours back up here,” Len said, voice half an octave lower than usual. He shifted his weight as Jim moved upwards, so this time he could press Jim into the couch, hands working in tandem with lips and tongue to explore every inch that had been revealed to him so far. He continued shifting his weight, sliding Jim from a low slouch to a fully supine position.
So far, all the action had been strictly above the waist, but Len tested the deeper waters, planting a knee firmly between Jim’s, and maneuvering a thigh between Jim’s legs. Jim responded by clutching Len’s ass and pulling him in closer, at the same time grinding upwards, so Len concluded the water was fine. He kissed Jim deeply, their tongues sliding across and past each other, and echoed the movement of his tongue with his lower body, sliding his pelvis across Jim’s. The flies of their jeans rustled across each other, and the metal buttons slid across each other with a metallic hiss, but both sounds were drowned out by the noises Jim made as Len let his mouth stray.
Len made sure his chest or belly stayed in firm contact with Jim’s erection, which was boldly declaring itself even through the thick denim of his jeans. His lips worked their way down Jim’s neck, stopping to taste the hollow where his collarbones met, and planting themselves on a nipple.
“Fuck, Bones!” Jim gasped.
“Mm,” Len said around his current treat, laving it and flicking it with his tongue before moving to the other side. He let go briefly, and grinned wolfishly up at Jim, who was starting to look stoned. He scooted up briefly to kiss Jim’s plumped, reddened lips, and licked a strip down to the waistband of his jeans. He palmed Jim’s erection, and was rewarded with a gasp as Jim bucked upwards into his touch.
Len continued to rub the palm of his hand across Jim’s package, letting his other hand roam where it wished.
“Off!” Jim said suddenly, and Len jerked backwards and froze, taking his hands completely off Jim, wondering what he’d done. The blood drained from his face as he instantly imagined himself in the hospital administrator’s office, trying to explain away the complaint from the former patient in front of him. Or, more accurately, under him.
“No no no, not you,” Jim panted, grabbing for Len’s hands and putting them back where they had been. “My pants. Off!”
Len breathed in and out twice, to recover from his momentary shock, and then let out a low chuckle. “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.” He unfastened the button, dragged the zipper open, and pulled on the sides of the jeans as Jim lifted his ass and shimmied his hips to help him with his task.
Len didn’t waste any time; he put his open lips right over the damp spot on the front of Jim’s boxer briefs, and blew out a hot breath. Jim whimpered, and his blunt fingernails made a scraping sound as he clutched at the threadbare couch cushions. Len let out one more steamy breath onto the head of Jim’s erection, and worked his way back up Jim’s body.
Jim sat up, using Len’s body as a counterweight, and maneuvered himself so he could get his hands on Len. He traced his fingers up and down the long, broad ridge under the fly of Len’s jeans, and then rubbed Len’s cock up and down a few times through the black denim, before going for the button. Their position was impossible for stripping Bones, which he desperately needed to do, so he took Len’s hand and pulled him to standing. He fumbled with the button and zipper, but once they were open, Len’s black jeans slid straight to the floor, joining Jim’s own pants in a puddle on the hardwood.
They clutched each other for balance as they each did the awkward dance of stepping out of the legs of their pants, and the even more awkward move of peeling their socks off. Len laughed as he had to catch Jim, who nearly toppled over removing his stubborn left sock. They grinned at each other, standing face to face in their underwear, and Jim reversed the potential awkwardness of the moment by pulling Len in towards him, then dragging his open lips down the center of Len’s body, until he too could breath hot, moist air onto Len’s cock through his dark gray boxers.
Jim stayed where he was for a few breaths, running his hand up the inside of Len’s thigh and through the leg opening of his shorts, where he briefly teased at Len’s balls with the edge of his hand, before pulling back again, and returning to a standing position.
“Long as we’re up, how ‘bout that bedroom of yours?” Len murmured, as he kissed around Jim’s ear, and to the pounding pulse point on his neck.
“Yeah, I think so, Bones.” Jim took Len’s hand to lead him across the hall to his bedroom, but stopped in the hallway.
“Wait a sec,” Jim said, and scurried back into the study, returning with Len’s paper bag of supplies. “Don’t wanna hafta look for these in the heat of the moment.” He pulled Len into his bedroom, and closed the door behind them. He sat on the edge of the bed and dumped the contents of the bag onto a nightstand, and counted four varieties of condoms, and two of lube. “You don’t mess around, do you?”
“I never mess around when I’m messing around,” Len said. “Now come back here.”
“No,” Jim said from the bed, “you come here.” He stretched out on the bed on his back, hands laced together behind his head. His expression was half smirk, half grin, and designed to be irresistible.
Len didn’t have to be told twice. He practically pounced onto Jim, straddling him at the hips and looking down at him.
“Hi,” Jim said, grinning up at him.
“Hi yourself,” Len said, unable to suppress an answering grin. He looked down at Jim, trying to decide where to start, but Jim solved his problem by pulling him down and kissing him, carding his hands through Len’s hair.
The kiss changed from playful nips to intense open-mouthed deep kissing, and soon they were both back in the state they’d been in on the couch in the study, panting, clutching, pressing against each other for more heat, more friction, more connection.
Jim slipped his hands under the elastic waistband of Len’s boxers, kneading his bare ass, and Len lifted his weight momentarily in an invitation for Jim to slide the shorts down. Jim took the cue, and pushed the boxers as far down as he could. Len finished the job, and then helped Jim out of his underwear. They admired each other, Jim on his back, and Len over him on all fours, with one knee on either side of Jim’s hips, and hands outside his shoulders.
“You’re too gorgeous, Bones,” Jim said. He admired Len’s body from below, running his hands up and down his sturdy thighs, first along the outsides, and then the insides, and applying the lightest of feather touches to his cock, as if he didn’t really think he was allowed to touch. He ran a lightly curled hand up and down its length, following the slight upcurve, and then cupped his balls, as if weighing them in his hand.
Len was momentarily paralyzed by the sensations washing over him. His eyes drifted slightly closed, and rolled back in his head, and he knew he moaned when Jim finally touched his cock, but he didn’t care. He overcame his paralysis, and lowered his weight onto Jim, finally letting their naked bodies touch. They groaned together, and Jim’s hands slid around to clutch Len’s ass, as Len ravished Jim’s face and neck with kisses, working his way down, down, touching everywhere as he went. He grazed one of Jim’s nipples lightly with his teeth, and Jim arched up to greet his touch.
“Ah, Bones,” he groaned, and kept his hands in Leonard’s hair as he worked his kisses farther down Jim’s body. Len kissed and nipped down the middle of Jim’s abdomen, spending what he felt wasn’t nearly adequate time on Jim’s navel, until reaching the happy trail, which did indeed instill happiness in him, especially once he reached the treasure at the end of the trail.
“Fuh …” Jim uttered, as Len kissed his cock, licked it up and down, and then grasped it firmly and gave it a few strokes. “God, Bones …”
“Mm, darlin’, I do love this cock,” Len said, working his hand up and down slowly a few times. “I wonder how many different things we can do tonight, you and me?”
“A lot,” Jim panted, “’cause damn.”
“You like this?” Len said, as he continued sliding his hand up and down, adding a twist and a swipe of the thumb across the head at the end of each stroke. Jim mewled in response, and clutched at Len’s thighs, which were all he could reach.
Len kept going until Jim was a writhing mess. He shifted his weight and brought his own cock into the action, taking both of them in hand at once. They were perfectly matched in length, so the most sensitive parts of the undersides of their cocks met up exactly. He worked them together for a few strokes, and his free hand twined together with one of Jim’s. He pulled Jim’s hand up and kissed it before releasing it, reaching for the pile on the nightstand.
He could just reach one of the bottles of lube, so he grabbed it, and opened the package with his teeth. When it came to actually dispensing the stuff, though, he needed both hands, and Jim whimpered when he let go, but then quickly took over with his own hand. Len warmed some of the slippery fluid between his palms, and let his hands join Jim’s on their cocks, slicking them up.
Len took Jim’s hand again, and urged him to a sitting position. Their hands were so slippery that they nearly lost each other, but rather than being embarrassed at an awkward moment, they both grinned and laughed a little, and finally Jim and Len were sitting face to face, between each other’s legs, with Len again holding their cocks together between them.
Jim leaned forward and kissed Len, scootching his body forwards so they were even closer together, as Len continued stroking their cocks between them. The movement was now deliciously slick, echoed by their tongues in each other’s mouths.
Len pulled back from the kiss, just to look at Jim, and saw that his creamy pale skin was flushed red from the chest up, advertising his desire. Seeing Jim in such a state, and hearing his nearly steady stream of sounds that were half-sigh, half moan, sent a surge of lust through Len, and he changed the pace of his hand from languid to more insistent.
“You feel so good, Jim,” Len breathed. “We feel so good together.”
“Fuck yeah, Bones,” Jim replied, his response not eloquent, but heartfelt.
“I love seein’ how hot you’re gettin’, mmm, yeah,” Bones drawled, his voice husky with desire.
“Hnnngh … keep talking to me, Bones,” Jim gasped, barely able to talk.
A wave of pleasure surged through Len at those words. He always liked talking to his partner during sex, but Jocelyn had banned the practice, and had made him feel wrong about it, so to be begged to do it was a huge turn-on.
“Yeah, sugah, I can do that. I can do that allllll night if that’s what you want.” Len kept his hand moving, and at the same time pressed kisses to everything he could reach. His murmured sweet nothings were interspersed with his own sounds of pleasure, mingled with Jim’s incoherent sounds.
When Len felt the tension in Jim’s body amp up a notch, he sped up his hand, wanting the faster pace for himself as well. He was intensely enjoying seeing the looks on Jim’s face, feeling his hands all over him, and hearing his nearly desperate sounds.
“Fuck … Bones … I’m close …”
“Let it go, darlin’. I wanna see you come,” Len said, barely able to talk anymore.
Jim grabbed Len anywhere he could, and held onto him as he arched his back, and came with a sound somewhere between a sob and a shout, striping hot jets on both of their chests, then on Len’s hand, which calmed its action to work Jim through the last of his orgasm. Jim’s chest heaved for several breaths, and then he leaned forwards again, resting his forehead on Len’s shoulder.
Len ran the fingers of his free hand up and down the ridge of Jim’s spine, continuing to murmur to him even though he was sure nobody was home to hear him. But shortly, Jim’s forehead lifted from Len’s shoulder, and Jim tilted his head up so he could kiss Len again, hand in his hair. Jim reached his other hand down between them.
“Bones, let me. Please?” Jim asked, covering Len’s sticky hand with his own.
“Mm, you bet, sweetheart,” Len said. He let Jim’s hand replace his, and fuck if it wasn’t even better than he’d imagined in the shower just a few days ago, before their first date.
Jim started up slowly at first, but it didn’t take much time for him to get Len back to where they’d been a few minutes ago, and Jim enjoyed the hell out of seeing Len start to fall apart. His hazel eyes were hooded, and his face was flushed. The sexy drawl that turned Jim on so much had been replaced by even sexier unabashed sounds of pleasure, which Jim thought he might be enjoying even more than the drawl.
“Unh … Jim … I … more …”
Jim sped up his hand, and at the same time, Len leaned back, bracing his weight on locked arms, and letting his head fall back. His body strained to thrust his hips upwards into Jim’s touch, and his arms quivered with the effort, his triceps and deltoids so tight Jim would swear he could see individual muscle fibers. The veins on his neck stood out like ropes. Jim practically drooled at the vision before him.
“Ah, Bones, look at you,” he murmured.
Len thrust up one more time, and froze. He came hard, shooting his first jet of semen nearly to Jim’s neck. Jim milked out the rest of the shots in time with Len’s sounds, until Len finally collapsed backwards onto the foot of the bed, all strength gone from his arms.
Jim wasted no time in disentangling their legs so he could join his lover, backwards on the bed. He covered Len’s body with his own, mingling their sweat and come, and kissed Len’s still panting mouth. He continued his gentle ministrations until Bones reached up and wrapped his arms around him, stroking a few times, but then patting him in a way that Jim could only think of as … pragmatic.
“Heavy,” Len squeaked.
“Oops,” Jim said, rolling off him. Len followed, and suddenly they were on their sides, forehead to forehead. Jim slung his upper leg over Len’s hip, and they nestled together comfortably, cuddling and kissing quietly, hands twined together between them.
Len spoke up first.
“I sure did like that, darlin’,” he said, kissing Jim again and squeezing his hand.
“Me too,” Jim said. “That was really something. I really, really liked that. And, uh, I really, really like you, Bones.” He blushed again, but didn’t mind.
“Well, I really, really like you, too, Jim,” Len said, smiling a rare full and complete smile at Jim, before leaning in to kiss him once more. “And right now, we’re both a reeking, sticky mess. So how ‘bout a shower?”
“You’re on,” Jim said. “’Cause damn.”
“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” Len said, groaning as he peeled himself off of Jim, and stood up. “Holy crap, it’s freezing in here!”
Jim laughed. “It’s at least sixty, Southern boy. I don’t like to be hot when I’m sleeping, so I keep the upstairs kind of cool. Plus, we’ll be in a nice, hot shower in about two minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll stop my whining. Where’s the bathroom? And, you’re positively sure your mother’s not home?”
“Across the hall, and yes, absolutely sure. Plus, she has her own bedroom and bathroom downstairs.”
“Oh,” Len said. “That’s good, then.”
“C’mon,” Jim said, as he led the way across the hall. In the bathroom, he plucked a green towel out of a cabinet, and hung it on a hook, right next to his blue one. He started the water in the shower, to let it warm up, and turned to see Bones standing there shivering, naked, on the bathmat. He wrapped himself around Len, and rubbed his back and the sides of his arms, feeling the goosebumps.
“Shit,” Jim said, “you really are cold! I’ll turn up the heat if you want.”
“Nah,” Len said, “I’ll be fine. Just not used to standing around in the altogether in winter temperatures. Because sixty is winter where I come from.”
Steam started billowing from the shower enclosure, so Jim slid the glass door. “After you, Bones. Not just because I like looking at your ass, either, though that’s a bonus.”
“Oh, just get in here and shut the fucking door, you infant,” Len crabbed, softening his words by kissing Jim as soon as he had firm footing.
Jim let Len have the first turn under the hot spray, and used both hands to smooth the water all over Len’s upper body, as if he were personally taking away the chill. Len closed his eyes and tipped his head backwards into the spray, holding on to Jim’s shoulders. Jim couldn’t resist the sight before him, and stepped closer. His lips found Len’s neck, and he kissed a trail from his prominent suprasternal notch up to his chin, which Len then lowered to greet Jim’s mouth with his own.
They exchanged watery kisses for a while, until Len pushed Jim gently, trading their positions so Jim could have a turn in the stream of hot water. While Jim still had his eyes closed against the spray, Len took the soap from its holder, and soaped up his hands, rubbing them across Jim’s chest, making foam in the coarse hair. Jim cooperated in having his upper body washed all over, turning as necessary. Len got his hands soapy again, and this time went lower with his hands, through the thatch of hair, down to Jim’s flaccid penis, washing everything carefully, and far more slowly than was truly necessary. He stepped closer, kissing Jim again as he reached behind him, sliding his slippery hands over Jim’s ass, and letting his fingers stray into the crack.
“My turn,” Jim said, when Len’s hands had lost their soapiness.
They switched places again, and this time Jim took care of Len, starting at his feet and working his way up. He watched as Len closed his eyes and tipped his head back when Jim got to the top of his inner thighs, and stepped his feet apart to give Jim the access they both wanted him to have.
From his position crouched on the shower floor, Jim sent his soapy hand all the way up the inside of Len’s thigh, and then cupped his balls, rolling them gently. He let his hand go farther backwards, stroking back and forth over his perineum a few times, and then into the cleft between Len’s buttocks, sliding back and forth, back and forth, the heel of his hand brushing Len’s balls on each stroke.
Len hummed deep in his throat, and ran his hand through Jim’s dripping hair.
“Keep that up and I’m liable to forget about that pesky little thing called the refractory period,” Len growled.
“I figure we can just keep making each other feel good until we can get it up again,” Jim said. “’Cause we’ve got all night, Bones. I mean,” he backpedaled, realizing they hadn’t discussed this, “if you wanna stay over.”
“You bet I do, sweetheart,” Len said, luxuriating in the sensations as Jim gently soaped his still-sensitive penis, and worked his way slowly up Len’s upper body, before turning him so they could both rinse.
Jim felt Len shiver as the water suddenly dropped in temperature.
“Looks like we’ve done in the water heater,” Jim said. “Water temp’s only downhill from here.”
He shut the water off, and stepped out onto the bathmat. Len followed, and Jim immediately pulled the green towel from the hook and started rubbing Len down, top to bottom, as Jim himself dripped all over the place. Once Len was dry and wrapped up in the green towel that perfectly set off the green starbursts within his hazel eyes, making them shine like emeralds, Jim rubbed his hair down and dried himself off quickly.
“Let’s go get you warm again,” Jim said.
“Like, in your bed?” Len asked, waggling his eyebrows.
“Not on the couch, that’s for sure,” Jim said, as he led Len back across the hall.
“Curious,” Len said. “Why’d you take me in there first, anyhow?”
“Uh, just ‘cause it’d be easier to stop in there than in here,” Jim said, as he patted the bed next to him and pulled the covers over once Len had slid in next to him.
Len wrapped himself around Jim before he responded. “Was I giving off the wrong vibes?”
“No. I just wanted to give you an out if you needed it,” Jim said, snuggling in closer.
Len nuzzled his face into Jim’s neck. “Didn’t even come close to needing it.”
They cuddled for a while, talking about everything and nothing, until, after twenty minutes or so, the tone of the conversation changed.
On to the last part, 6b.
Back to Part 5
Part 6a
Jim started watching the driveway at a quarter to four in the afternoon. Oddly, he wasn’t nervous. But he was keyed up like nobody’s business, and couldn’t keep his mind on anything other than Bones, who would be there any second. He double-checked all his personal areas of the house, to make sure they were guest-ready. His study was messy-there was really nothing he could do about all the books, piled everywhere, that just wouldn’t fit on the shelves. But the room was clean. He fluffed up the pillows on the fold-out couch that the boys slept on when they visited. He put some books that he thought would be suitably impressive on the arm of the recliner, and then, irritated with himself, put them back.
The upstairs bathroom, which was his alone, unless Sam’s family was staying over, was sparkling from the cleaning he’d given it earlier. He’d gone back and forth about whether to put out a second towel, but thought it might be presumptuous. But hell, if Bones made it to the upstairs bathroom, things were probably going well. But … it also wouldn’t be hard to get out a second towel if it were needed.
“Aargh!” Jim groaned aloud. “Stop it, Kirk! What are you, fifteen, on your first date?”
Nonetheless, he gave his room one last inspection. He’d changed the sheets already, and had moved his pile of “already worn but not so dirty they need to go in the laundry” clothes to the floor of his closet. He’d put away some childhood items that a woman might have thought were cute, but that he’d be embarrassed to have another man see: a remote control car he still used with the boys; his favorite toy spaceship; a ragged teddy bear.
He frowned into his room.
“Ya know, screw that,” he said. He retrieved the three childhood items from the closet, and put them back where they belonged. “He wants to know me. Me. So Millennium Falcon, you go right back where I like you.”
Just as Jim finished arranging the spaceship on the dresser, he was distracted by the crunch of snow in the driveway. He thundered down the stairs, the way his mother had been trying to get him not to do since he was five, and threw open the front door.
“Bones!” he called, jumping up and down. “Just put the car by mine. And come on in!”
A minute later, Len was stomping snow off his boots on the doormat, and then he was finally, finally really there.
“Hey,” Jim said, grinning from ear to ear. “Good to see you.”
“Good to see you too,” Len replied. “Should I even take off my boots? Like, are we going straight to the barn?”
“No no, come on in first. We have to go to the barn the back way anyhow.”
“Okay,” Len said, as Jim took his coat and hung it on a hook by the front door. Len left his boots on the tray under the coat-hooks, and set the messenger bag he was carrying there as well. When he turned around, Jim was right there.
“Hi,” Jim said, leaning in and kissing Len almost chastely.
Len burst out laughing. “What the hell was that?” he asked, pulling Jim in by his waist for a proper kiss, which left them both flushed.
“I guess it was me being lame,” Jim said.
“You’re not lame,” Len said quietly, tracing Jim’s cheekbone with his thumb. “We don’t need to be nervous, okay? I like spending time with you-hell, I’ve been looking forward to going into the barn and shoveling cow shit or whatever the hell we’re gonna do, just to be around you, and to know you more.”
“Yeah,” Jim said. “Me too.”
“Good.”
“Okay.” Jim shifted in his socked feet. “So-I guess we might as well go out to the barn. You’re wearing stuff you don’t mind if it gets messed up, right? And longjohns, like I said?”
“Yep!”
“Good-we’ve got a couple spare pairs of coveralls; there’s one that’ll fit you for sure. Barn boots, too. What are you, like a twelve?”
“That’ll work,” Len said.
“C’mon-all the stuff that gets used in the barn is in a mud room in the back,” Jim said.
They traipsed through the house, and Jim showed Len to a vestibule by the back door. Jim’s and Winona’s insulated coveralls and boots were obvious. Jim rummaged through a closet, and tossed items out behind him.
“Try these,” Jim said, turning around with a pair of heavy rubber boots, and a pair of worn but warm-looking insulated brown coveralls. “And-wait. You can’t be serious.”
Len raised his eyebrows. “About what?”
“Your socks,” Jim said, pointing at Len’s feet, which were encased in a single pair of wool hiking socks.
“Um, these are my warmest socks.”
Jim shook his head. “Stay there; I’ll be right back.”
Len heard thundering on the stairs, and a pause, and then more thundering, and Jim reappeared with a very thick pair of socks. “Put these on over what you’ve got, and that should be fine.”
“Okay,” Len said. He got all dressed up, and Jim looked him up and down. Len was still wearing the hat he’d come in with, and had put his gloves back on.
“Gloves?” Jim asked.
Len held out his hands.
“No, no no no,” Jim said. He stripped the thick insulated leather gloves off his own hands, and gave them to Len, and rifled through the closet for another pair, which he then put on. “Your gloves are warm enough, but don’t have any protection to them. Can’t have you messing up your doctor hands.”
“Good point,” Len said.
“Not that we’ll be doing anything really dangerous-I just wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.
“Thanks,” Len said. “So-are we ready?”
“Yep!”
On the way out to the barn, Jim told Len about what they’d be doing.
“Almost everything is somewhat automated, but there are still plenty of things to do by hand. Like spreading the hay in the feed troughs, and disinfecting the teats, and putting the milking machines on,” Jim said. “You’ll probably be horrified by it all. And I should warn you-it doesn’t smell nice in there.”
Len laughed. “Recall our first meeting. I work in an emergency room. If it’s nasty, and it’s biological, I’ve smelled it.”
“Right,” Jim said.
They reached the cow barn-a long, low building with a rounded roof, and ventilation fans spinning lazily at either end. They entered the building, and Jim started explaining everything in sight-the automatically-cleaning manure gutter, which really looked like a long conveyor belt, the automatic water bowls, and other modern accouterments which allowed the Kirks to have such a large herd without having many, many full-time employees.
Len looked at the ceiling, where miles of pipes carried milk from the automatic milking machines to the tank room. He listened and watched as Jim showed him how to work the automatic milking device that would need to be put on each cow.
“And Dr. Bones, don’t get all carried away with cleaning the teats. It’s not a surgical scrub. The point is just getting crud off, and disinfecting a bit,” Jim said.
“Okay, Farm Boy,” Len said. “I think I’ve got it. When it’s time to do that, you watch me a few times, and make sure I’m doing everything right.”
“Good idea. Okay, so first …” Jim launched into an explanation of how they’d inspect the herd, and spread hay around in the hay racks, and everything else they’d do. “So, let’s go get a couple bales of hay.”
Jim walked Len through the inspection and the feeding. He showed Len the cow that Chris Pike had asked about, and Len could see nice pink granulation tissue filling in what looked like it used to be a nasty ulcer. When the hay spreading was done, Jim started demonstrating the automatic milking equipment.
The units were kept suspended from the ceiling, so they couldn’t fall into the muck on the floor. When Jim needed the first one, it happened to be right over his head.
“Hey Bones, grab me that unit, will you?” Jim asked, a grin stretching all the way across his face.
“What,” Len said, reaching up above Jim and putting them nose to nose, “this one here?”
“That’s the one,” Jim said, stealing a kiss as Len leaned in closer.
“You want me to get it down?” Len asked, now cheek to cheek with Jim.
“Eventually,” Jim said. He pulled off one of his gloves, to cradle Len’s cheek, and kissed him again, and again.
“We’re kissing,” Len said between kisses, “in your barn, in front of a whole herd of cows.”
“Yep,” Jim said. “They don’t mind.”
A cow mooed right behind Len, and he jumped.
“I thought you said they didn’t mind,” Len said, scowling at the cow.
“They don’t. That was an expression of appreciation,” Jim said. “Good ol’ …” Jim looked at the inside of the cow's ear. "Number 316. She’s been rooting for us for a while, now.”
“Uh huh,” Len said skeptically. “So, Farm Boy, show me your stuff. Let’s milk a cow.”
“As you wish,” Jim said, completely straight faced.
Len raised one eyebrow. “Now I never woulda thought you’d get that reference.”
“I’m full of surprises,” Jim said.
By seven, the milking was done, and the rest of the chores were done for the evening.
“You hungry?” Jim asked.
“God, yes. I could eat a whole cow.”
“How about spaghetti and meatballs?” Jim said. “And broccoli.”
“That’ll do just fine, darlin’,” Len said.
“Good. Let’s hose our boots down, then we can go in and I’ll make dinner.”
“We’ll make dinner,” Len said.
“You’re on,” Jim said.
Fifteen minutes later, they were cleaned up, changed, and in the kitchen. Jim was rolling meatballs, and Len was trimming broccoli. Neither task took long, and once Jim had cooked the meatballs, the spaghetti still had a few minutes to go until it was done.
“I’m beat,” Jim said. “Let’s go take a load off in the living room until the timer beeps.”
“Lead the way,” Len said, not really sure what could happen in three minutes, but sure it would be pleasant.
Jim led Len out to the living room they’d passed through earlier, and plopped down onto the sofa with a “flumph.” He patted the cushion next to him, and Len sat as well. Jim immediately leaned into him, and put his head on Len’s shoulder. Len automatically put his arm around Jim. They sat there for a moment, facing the dry-looking Christmas tree in the corner.
“I love that you’re here,” Jim said. “I love that you did chores with me. Thanks for coming.”
“I like being here,” Len said. “Though I have to admit I have this perpetual feeling that your mother will be home any minute.”
“What,” Jim said, “and see us doing this?” He pivoted swiftly so he was crouched over Len, knees on either side of him, and kissed him.
Len chuckled into the kiss, reaching around behind Jim and holding onto him. He slipped his hands under Jim’s sweater, leaving only the cotton of his long-sleeved t-shirt between him and the skin he fairly desperately, at this point, wanted to get his hands on.
Predictably, the timer beeped just then. Jim groaned and put his feet on the floor, still leaning over Len.
“C’mon. Let’s eat,” Jim said.
“Don’t get too excited there,” Len said, not yet standing up. “Your enthusiasm for dinner is low enough it makes me wonder what’s wrong with it.”
Quick as a flash, Jim was back on Len.
“Dinner,” he breathed in Len’s ear, “is not what I’m excited about today.”
Len traced Jim’s lips with a single finger, then trailed his finger down Jim’s chin and neck, and back up again.
“Well, then, sweetheart, does dessert strike your fancy a little better?” Len said, nostrils flaring as he imagined what dessert might entail.
“Fuck, yes, Bones,” Jim said throatily.
The kitchen timer beeped again insistently, announcing that its call had not yet been heeded.
“Then I suggest,” Len said in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, “that we get the hell on with dinner, and save some room for dessert.”
Keeping his eyes locked on Len’s, Jim stood up, and held a hand out. Len took his hand, and Jim helped him off the deep couch.
Predictably, dinner didn’t take long. They sat at the round table on one end of the kitchen, twining their socked feet together under the table, and occasionally feeding each other a bite of food. Jim made sure to eat enough that he wouldn’t be hungry in two hours, but not enough to weigh him down. He was pretty sure Len was doing the same, since after his declaration that he could eat one of the herd, he only ate what looked like a modest portion to Jim. Jim also had to admit to himself that the butterflies in his stomach played a role in his own modest consumption.
Just as they were finishing, Jim got quiet and contemplative, which Len saw as the exact opposite of how he’d seemed just a few minutes earlier.
“What’s going on, Jim?” Len asked, frowning slightly. “You look worried. Or somethin’.”
“Well,” Jim said, “something just kind of occurred to me, that I kind of need to ask you.”
“All right,” Len said. “Ask away.”
“So, you were married, right, and you said you had this one … uh, fling, with a guy. But … shoot, how do I even ask this?”
“Just ask. You won’t embarrass me,” Len said, taking Jim’s hand in both of his own. “And I won’t laugh. I promise.”
“Okay.” Jim blew out a breath. “You’ve, like, done it, with guys, right?”
Len smiled, since he’d promised not to laugh. “Sure have, darlin’. There was plenty of time before I got married to have sex with men. And women. With my preferences leaning towards men, but … it was Georgia, and I met who I thought was the right woman, so …” Len stopped short. “That’s not what you’re asking though. My final answer is that yes, I certainly have. So there’s no need to worry about me being some blushing bride.”
“That’s about what I thought,” Jim said. “Pretty much sums me up too. Except the married part. And the Georgia part.”
“Good.” Len’s lips quirked up in a small smile.
“So here’s some more news,” Jim said. “I have a hard and fast agreement with my mother that I don’t leave dirty dishes lying around.”
“Bet that’s not the only thing you have that’s hard and fast,” Len said. “But hey, let’s do some dishes.”
Jim grinned. “You’re a dirty old man, you know that?”
“Oh, I do, darlin’. I sure do.”
Jim put the leftovers away, while Len got started with a sink full of hot, soapy water. He quickly washed the glasses, plates, pots, and pans, while Jim rinsed. When Len drained the sink, Jim tossed him another dish towel, and they dried the rest of the dishes together.
When the last pot was set on the stove to air-dry, Jim started spinning his towel in an ages-old motion that would turn a humble houseware into a tool of war.
“Oh, is that what’s happening now?” Len said, twirling his own towel, and backing away to keep his rear outside of what he judged to be the distance equal to the length of Jim’s arm plus the length of a dishtowel. “Give it your best shot, Farm Boy.” He kept his distance, but turned to the side and slapped his own butt with his palm.
“As you wish,” Jim said, lunging forwards and planting a well-aimed snap of the towel right on Len’s butt check.
Len laughed and jumped away.
“Some might say I should turn the other cheek, but …”
He feinted going straight at Jim, but took an end run around the kitchen island, catching Jim off guard,. Before Jim could get out of the way, he landed the end of his own dishtowel on Jim’s posterior.
Jim’s ass stung from the snapping Len had just given it. The wicked grin on Len’s face was a pleasure to see, and Jim found himself wanting to kiss that grin.
So he did. He used his own linen dishtowel to encircle Len’s waist, and pull their bodies together. He dropped the towel, in favor of jamming his hands in Len’s back pockets. Bones’s ass felt just as good as Jim thought it would-maybe even better.
Jim found himself attacking Len’s neck with vampire-like voraciousness, and felt more than heard Bones humming his approval. He felt Len’s hands slide up his body, leaving trails of heat even through Jim’s clothing. Those hands cupped Jim’s face, and brought it up for a kiss-a real kiss, deep and long, not at all like the playful ones they’d stolen in the barn or the kitchen. This was a seriously intense kiss; the gateway from one part of their evening to another.
Jim pulled away just enough to whisper against Bones’s lips. “Come upstairs. Couch. My study.”
“You bet,” Len said. “Lead on.”
“Oh, I’m not leading you on,” Jim said, nuzzling Bones’s ear. “We’re gonna start on the couch, and see what happens. The bedroom’s open for business, too, if we feel like it.”
“I’m pretty sure we’ll feel like it,” Len said. “But here’s the thing. I’ll say this now, so I don’t have to wreck the mood later. Safe sex. No fluid exchange, in any orifice, except for spit. Period.”
Jim nodded. “I’m cool with that.”
“So I’m gonna take a little trip to my bag, and then you’re gonna show me this couch. Be right back.”
Jim didn’t let Leonard go to the coat hooks by himself. He kept his hand in a back pocket, and followed Len as he retrieved his drug-store purchases from the messenger bag he’d left on the floor by the coats. He led Len up the stairs to the study, and sat him on the couch, kneeling on the floor in front of his parted knees so their faces were at the same level. They locked eyes for just a moment, Len’s hand on the back of Jim’s neck, before crashing together, mouths hungry, lips insatiable, hands everywhere.
They made out like teenagers for a few minutes, fully clothed, until Len reached down to the hem of Jim’s long-sleeved t-shirt, and pulled it up over his head. Jim cooperated, raising his arms and helping to fling the shirt away, and then, getting half up on the sofa so he could reach, yanked Len’s shirt off and tossed it aside. Their hands and lips were greedy for the new expanses of skin made available. Len groaned and carded his hand through Jim’s hair as Jim’s mouth latched on to a nipple, swirling, leaving hot trails that cooled swiftly when he switched to the other side. He kissed, nipped, and licked his way down to Len’s navel, and then back up again.
“Yeah, darlin’, bring that hot mouth of yours back up here,” Len said, voice half an octave lower than usual. He shifted his weight as Jim moved upwards, so this time he could press Jim into the couch, hands working in tandem with lips and tongue to explore every inch that had been revealed to him so far. He continued shifting his weight, sliding Jim from a low slouch to a fully supine position.
So far, all the action had been strictly above the waist, but Len tested the deeper waters, planting a knee firmly between Jim’s, and maneuvering a thigh between Jim’s legs. Jim responded by clutching Len’s ass and pulling him in closer, at the same time grinding upwards, so Len concluded the water was fine. He kissed Jim deeply, their tongues sliding across and past each other, and echoed the movement of his tongue with his lower body, sliding his pelvis across Jim’s. The flies of their jeans rustled across each other, and the metal buttons slid across each other with a metallic hiss, but both sounds were drowned out by the noises Jim made as Len let his mouth stray.
Len made sure his chest or belly stayed in firm contact with Jim’s erection, which was boldly declaring itself even through the thick denim of his jeans. His lips worked their way down Jim’s neck, stopping to taste the hollow where his collarbones met, and planting themselves on a nipple.
“Fuck, Bones!” Jim gasped.
“Mm,” Len said around his current treat, laving it and flicking it with his tongue before moving to the other side. He let go briefly, and grinned wolfishly up at Jim, who was starting to look stoned. He scooted up briefly to kiss Jim’s plumped, reddened lips, and licked a strip down to the waistband of his jeans. He palmed Jim’s erection, and was rewarded with a gasp as Jim bucked upwards into his touch.
Len continued to rub the palm of his hand across Jim’s package, letting his other hand roam where it wished.
“Off!” Jim said suddenly, and Len jerked backwards and froze, taking his hands completely off Jim, wondering what he’d done. The blood drained from his face as he instantly imagined himself in the hospital administrator’s office, trying to explain away the complaint from the former patient in front of him. Or, more accurately, under him.
“No no no, not you,” Jim panted, grabbing for Len’s hands and putting them back where they had been. “My pants. Off!”
Len breathed in and out twice, to recover from his momentary shock, and then let out a low chuckle. “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.” He unfastened the button, dragged the zipper open, and pulled on the sides of the jeans as Jim lifted his ass and shimmied his hips to help him with his task.
Len didn’t waste any time; he put his open lips right over the damp spot on the front of Jim’s boxer briefs, and blew out a hot breath. Jim whimpered, and his blunt fingernails made a scraping sound as he clutched at the threadbare couch cushions. Len let out one more steamy breath onto the head of Jim’s erection, and worked his way back up Jim’s body.
Jim sat up, using Len’s body as a counterweight, and maneuvered himself so he could get his hands on Len. He traced his fingers up and down the long, broad ridge under the fly of Len’s jeans, and then rubbed Len’s cock up and down a few times through the black denim, before going for the button. Their position was impossible for stripping Bones, which he desperately needed to do, so he took Len’s hand and pulled him to standing. He fumbled with the button and zipper, but once they were open, Len’s black jeans slid straight to the floor, joining Jim’s own pants in a puddle on the hardwood.
They clutched each other for balance as they each did the awkward dance of stepping out of the legs of their pants, and the even more awkward move of peeling their socks off. Len laughed as he had to catch Jim, who nearly toppled over removing his stubborn left sock. They grinned at each other, standing face to face in their underwear, and Jim reversed the potential awkwardness of the moment by pulling Len in towards him, then dragging his open lips down the center of Len’s body, until he too could breath hot, moist air onto Len’s cock through his dark gray boxers.
Jim stayed where he was for a few breaths, running his hand up the inside of Len’s thigh and through the leg opening of his shorts, where he briefly teased at Len’s balls with the edge of his hand, before pulling back again, and returning to a standing position.
“Long as we’re up, how ‘bout that bedroom of yours?” Len murmured, as he kissed around Jim’s ear, and to the pounding pulse point on his neck.
“Yeah, I think so, Bones.” Jim took Len’s hand to lead him across the hall to his bedroom, but stopped in the hallway.
“Wait a sec,” Jim said, and scurried back into the study, returning with Len’s paper bag of supplies. “Don’t wanna hafta look for these in the heat of the moment.” He pulled Len into his bedroom, and closed the door behind them. He sat on the edge of the bed and dumped the contents of the bag onto a nightstand, and counted four varieties of condoms, and two of lube. “You don’t mess around, do you?”
“I never mess around when I’m messing around,” Len said. “Now come back here.”
“No,” Jim said from the bed, “you come here.” He stretched out on the bed on his back, hands laced together behind his head. His expression was half smirk, half grin, and designed to be irresistible.
Len didn’t have to be told twice. He practically pounced onto Jim, straddling him at the hips and looking down at him.
“Hi,” Jim said, grinning up at him.
“Hi yourself,” Len said, unable to suppress an answering grin. He looked down at Jim, trying to decide where to start, but Jim solved his problem by pulling him down and kissing him, carding his hands through Len’s hair.
The kiss changed from playful nips to intense open-mouthed deep kissing, and soon they were both back in the state they’d been in on the couch in the study, panting, clutching, pressing against each other for more heat, more friction, more connection.
Jim slipped his hands under the elastic waistband of Len’s boxers, kneading his bare ass, and Len lifted his weight momentarily in an invitation for Jim to slide the shorts down. Jim took the cue, and pushed the boxers as far down as he could. Len finished the job, and then helped Jim out of his underwear. They admired each other, Jim on his back, and Len over him on all fours, with one knee on either side of Jim’s hips, and hands outside his shoulders.
“You’re too gorgeous, Bones,” Jim said. He admired Len’s body from below, running his hands up and down his sturdy thighs, first along the outsides, and then the insides, and applying the lightest of feather touches to his cock, as if he didn’t really think he was allowed to touch. He ran a lightly curled hand up and down its length, following the slight upcurve, and then cupped his balls, as if weighing them in his hand.
Len was momentarily paralyzed by the sensations washing over him. His eyes drifted slightly closed, and rolled back in his head, and he knew he moaned when Jim finally touched his cock, but he didn’t care. He overcame his paralysis, and lowered his weight onto Jim, finally letting their naked bodies touch. They groaned together, and Jim’s hands slid around to clutch Len’s ass, as Len ravished Jim’s face and neck with kisses, working his way down, down, touching everywhere as he went. He grazed one of Jim’s nipples lightly with his teeth, and Jim arched up to greet his touch.
“Ah, Bones,” he groaned, and kept his hands in Leonard’s hair as he worked his kisses farther down Jim’s body. Len kissed and nipped down the middle of Jim’s abdomen, spending what he felt wasn’t nearly adequate time on Jim’s navel, until reaching the happy trail, which did indeed instill happiness in him, especially once he reached the treasure at the end of the trail.
“Fuh …” Jim uttered, as Len kissed his cock, licked it up and down, and then grasped it firmly and gave it a few strokes. “God, Bones …”
“Mm, darlin’, I do love this cock,” Len said, working his hand up and down slowly a few times. “I wonder how many different things we can do tonight, you and me?”
“A lot,” Jim panted, “’cause damn.”
“You like this?” Len said, as he continued sliding his hand up and down, adding a twist and a swipe of the thumb across the head at the end of each stroke. Jim mewled in response, and clutched at Len’s thighs, which were all he could reach.
Len kept going until Jim was a writhing mess. He shifted his weight and brought his own cock into the action, taking both of them in hand at once. They were perfectly matched in length, so the most sensitive parts of the undersides of their cocks met up exactly. He worked them together for a few strokes, and his free hand twined together with one of Jim’s. He pulled Jim’s hand up and kissed it before releasing it, reaching for the pile on the nightstand.
He could just reach one of the bottles of lube, so he grabbed it, and opened the package with his teeth. When it came to actually dispensing the stuff, though, he needed both hands, and Jim whimpered when he let go, but then quickly took over with his own hand. Len warmed some of the slippery fluid between his palms, and let his hands join Jim’s on their cocks, slicking them up.
Len took Jim’s hand again, and urged him to a sitting position. Their hands were so slippery that they nearly lost each other, but rather than being embarrassed at an awkward moment, they both grinned and laughed a little, and finally Jim and Len were sitting face to face, between each other’s legs, with Len again holding their cocks together between them.
Jim leaned forward and kissed Len, scootching his body forwards so they were even closer together, as Len continued stroking their cocks between them. The movement was now deliciously slick, echoed by their tongues in each other’s mouths.
Len pulled back from the kiss, just to look at Jim, and saw that his creamy pale skin was flushed red from the chest up, advertising his desire. Seeing Jim in such a state, and hearing his nearly steady stream of sounds that were half-sigh, half moan, sent a surge of lust through Len, and he changed the pace of his hand from languid to more insistent.
“You feel so good, Jim,” Len breathed. “We feel so good together.”
“Fuck yeah, Bones,” Jim replied, his response not eloquent, but heartfelt.
“I love seein’ how hot you’re gettin’, mmm, yeah,” Bones drawled, his voice husky with desire.
“Hnnngh … keep talking to me, Bones,” Jim gasped, barely able to talk.
A wave of pleasure surged through Len at those words. He always liked talking to his partner during sex, but Jocelyn had banned the practice, and had made him feel wrong about it, so to be begged to do it was a huge turn-on.
“Yeah, sugah, I can do that. I can do that allllll night if that’s what you want.” Len kept his hand moving, and at the same time pressed kisses to everything he could reach. His murmured sweet nothings were interspersed with his own sounds of pleasure, mingled with Jim’s incoherent sounds.
When Len felt the tension in Jim’s body amp up a notch, he sped up his hand, wanting the faster pace for himself as well. He was intensely enjoying seeing the looks on Jim’s face, feeling his hands all over him, and hearing his nearly desperate sounds.
“Fuck … Bones … I’m close …”
“Let it go, darlin’. I wanna see you come,” Len said, barely able to talk anymore.
Jim grabbed Len anywhere he could, and held onto him as he arched his back, and came with a sound somewhere between a sob and a shout, striping hot jets on both of their chests, then on Len’s hand, which calmed its action to work Jim through the last of his orgasm. Jim’s chest heaved for several breaths, and then he leaned forwards again, resting his forehead on Len’s shoulder.
Len ran the fingers of his free hand up and down the ridge of Jim’s spine, continuing to murmur to him even though he was sure nobody was home to hear him. But shortly, Jim’s forehead lifted from Len’s shoulder, and Jim tilted his head up so he could kiss Len again, hand in his hair. Jim reached his other hand down between them.
“Bones, let me. Please?” Jim asked, covering Len’s sticky hand with his own.
“Mm, you bet, sweetheart,” Len said. He let Jim’s hand replace his, and fuck if it wasn’t even better than he’d imagined in the shower just a few days ago, before their first date.
Jim started up slowly at first, but it didn’t take much time for him to get Len back to where they’d been a few minutes ago, and Jim enjoyed the hell out of seeing Len start to fall apart. His hazel eyes were hooded, and his face was flushed. The sexy drawl that turned Jim on so much had been replaced by even sexier unabashed sounds of pleasure, which Jim thought he might be enjoying even more than the drawl.
“Unh … Jim … I … more …”
Jim sped up his hand, and at the same time, Len leaned back, bracing his weight on locked arms, and letting his head fall back. His body strained to thrust his hips upwards into Jim’s touch, and his arms quivered with the effort, his triceps and deltoids so tight Jim would swear he could see individual muscle fibers. The veins on his neck stood out like ropes. Jim practically drooled at the vision before him.
“Ah, Bones, look at you,” he murmured.
Len thrust up one more time, and froze. He came hard, shooting his first jet of semen nearly to Jim’s neck. Jim milked out the rest of the shots in time with Len’s sounds, until Len finally collapsed backwards onto the foot of the bed, all strength gone from his arms.
Jim wasted no time in disentangling their legs so he could join his lover, backwards on the bed. He covered Len’s body with his own, mingling their sweat and come, and kissed Len’s still panting mouth. He continued his gentle ministrations until Bones reached up and wrapped his arms around him, stroking a few times, but then patting him in a way that Jim could only think of as … pragmatic.
“Heavy,” Len squeaked.
“Oops,” Jim said, rolling off him. Len followed, and suddenly they were on their sides, forehead to forehead. Jim slung his upper leg over Len’s hip, and they nestled together comfortably, cuddling and kissing quietly, hands twined together between them.
Len spoke up first.
“I sure did like that, darlin’,” he said, kissing Jim again and squeezing his hand.
“Me too,” Jim said. “That was really something. I really, really liked that. And, uh, I really, really like you, Bones.” He blushed again, but didn’t mind.
“Well, I really, really like you, too, Jim,” Len said, smiling a rare full and complete smile at Jim, before leaning in to kiss him once more. “And right now, we’re both a reeking, sticky mess. So how ‘bout a shower?”
“You’re on,” Jim said. “’Cause damn.”
“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” Len said, groaning as he peeled himself off of Jim, and stood up. “Holy crap, it’s freezing in here!”
Jim laughed. “It’s at least sixty, Southern boy. I don’t like to be hot when I’m sleeping, so I keep the upstairs kind of cool. Plus, we’ll be in a nice, hot shower in about two minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll stop my whining. Where’s the bathroom? And, you’re positively sure your mother’s not home?”
“Across the hall, and yes, absolutely sure. Plus, she has her own bedroom and bathroom downstairs.”
“Oh,” Len said. “That’s good, then.”
“C’mon,” Jim said, as he led the way across the hall. In the bathroom, he plucked a green towel out of a cabinet, and hung it on a hook, right next to his blue one. He started the water in the shower, to let it warm up, and turned to see Bones standing there shivering, naked, on the bathmat. He wrapped himself around Len, and rubbed his back and the sides of his arms, feeling the goosebumps.
“Shit,” Jim said, “you really are cold! I’ll turn up the heat if you want.”
“Nah,” Len said, “I’ll be fine. Just not used to standing around in the altogether in winter temperatures. Because sixty is winter where I come from.”
Steam started billowing from the shower enclosure, so Jim slid the glass door. “After you, Bones. Not just because I like looking at your ass, either, though that’s a bonus.”
“Oh, just get in here and shut the fucking door, you infant,” Len crabbed, softening his words by kissing Jim as soon as he had firm footing.
Jim let Len have the first turn under the hot spray, and used both hands to smooth the water all over Len’s upper body, as if he were personally taking away the chill. Len closed his eyes and tipped his head backwards into the spray, holding on to Jim’s shoulders. Jim couldn’t resist the sight before him, and stepped closer. His lips found Len’s neck, and he kissed a trail from his prominent suprasternal notch up to his chin, which Len then lowered to greet Jim’s mouth with his own.
They exchanged watery kisses for a while, until Len pushed Jim gently, trading their positions so Jim could have a turn in the stream of hot water. While Jim still had his eyes closed against the spray, Len took the soap from its holder, and soaped up his hands, rubbing them across Jim’s chest, making foam in the coarse hair. Jim cooperated in having his upper body washed all over, turning as necessary. Len got his hands soapy again, and this time went lower with his hands, through the thatch of hair, down to Jim’s flaccid penis, washing everything carefully, and far more slowly than was truly necessary. He stepped closer, kissing Jim again as he reached behind him, sliding his slippery hands over Jim’s ass, and letting his fingers stray into the crack.
“My turn,” Jim said, when Len’s hands had lost their soapiness.
They switched places again, and this time Jim took care of Len, starting at his feet and working his way up. He watched as Len closed his eyes and tipped his head back when Jim got to the top of his inner thighs, and stepped his feet apart to give Jim the access they both wanted him to have.
From his position crouched on the shower floor, Jim sent his soapy hand all the way up the inside of Len’s thigh, and then cupped his balls, rolling them gently. He let his hand go farther backwards, stroking back and forth over his perineum a few times, and then into the cleft between Len’s buttocks, sliding back and forth, back and forth, the heel of his hand brushing Len’s balls on each stroke.
Len hummed deep in his throat, and ran his hand through Jim’s dripping hair.
“Keep that up and I’m liable to forget about that pesky little thing called the refractory period,” Len growled.
“I figure we can just keep making each other feel good until we can get it up again,” Jim said. “’Cause we’ve got all night, Bones. I mean,” he backpedaled, realizing they hadn’t discussed this, “if you wanna stay over.”
“You bet I do, sweetheart,” Len said, luxuriating in the sensations as Jim gently soaped his still-sensitive penis, and worked his way slowly up Len’s upper body, before turning him so they could both rinse.
Jim felt Len shiver as the water suddenly dropped in temperature.
“Looks like we’ve done in the water heater,” Jim said. “Water temp’s only downhill from here.”
He shut the water off, and stepped out onto the bathmat. Len followed, and Jim immediately pulled the green towel from the hook and started rubbing Len down, top to bottom, as Jim himself dripped all over the place. Once Len was dry and wrapped up in the green towel that perfectly set off the green starbursts within his hazel eyes, making them shine like emeralds, Jim rubbed his hair down and dried himself off quickly.
“Let’s go get you warm again,” Jim said.
“Like, in your bed?” Len asked, waggling his eyebrows.
“Not on the couch, that’s for sure,” Jim said, as he led Len back across the hall.
“Curious,” Len said. “Why’d you take me in there first, anyhow?”
“Uh, just ‘cause it’d be easier to stop in there than in here,” Jim said, as he patted the bed next to him and pulled the covers over once Len had slid in next to him.
Len wrapped himself around Jim before he responded. “Was I giving off the wrong vibes?”
“No. I just wanted to give you an out if you needed it,” Jim said, snuggling in closer.
Len nuzzled his face into Jim’s neck. “Didn’t even come close to needing it.”
They cuddled for a while, talking about everything and nothing, until, after twenty minutes or so, the tone of the conversation changed.
On to the last part, 6b.