Comment-fic from jim_and_bones
Another comment-fic round up, 'cause I was starting to forget what I'd posted when and where.
September 2, 2010
Title: Feather-light
Rating: NC-17
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Fingertips trail live fire down his arms, across his stomach and lower, whorls and ridges catching on hair and freckles, sparking white-hot over sweat-soaked skin, and he can’t breathe, it’s so- ungh, God, Karl-
“Shh.” It’s a soft exhalation, fanned gently over the shell of his ear as the pad of one finger slides up his thigh, slowly, so slowly, until the anticipation is more intense than the actual touch and he didn’t think that was possible, but, oh, my God, the man’s fingers, and he can’t even think anymore, reduced to a limp, breathless, begging mass of want by the barely-there, feather-light brushes of Karl’s fingers against his skin.
“K-karl,” he stutters, but there’s too much and not nearly enough, his throat working urgently as fingers gently circle him, cupping loosely, not moving, just there and, by now, he’s so desperate he could cry, the muscles in his legs and stomach drawn so iron-tight he can’t feel his toes, though he knows, distantly, that they’re curled into the sweaty sheets at the end of the bed. And then Karl moves his hand, tightens his fingers just the slightest on the up-stroke, and Chris fucking keens, head thrust back into the skin-hot pillows and hips jolting against the restraining arm spanning his pelvis, mattress creaking as he strains upward.
“Like that, huh?” Karl chuckles darkly into his ear, fingers just caressing again, up and down and under and around, toying with Chris, torturing, teasing, playing his body like a finely crafted instrument. “God, I’m barely touching you and you’re just wrecked,” he growls, sucking Chris’ earlobe between his teeth as his hand tightens again and Chris is done. White light bursts behind closed eyelids as he sparks off the bed, a bottle rocket whistle-popping in a high arc that leaves glimmering afterimages obscuring his vision until all he can see is the smoldering green-brown of Karl’s eyes.
+++
September 20, 2010
Title: Born to be Wild
Rating: PG
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It’s a little unnerving, actually, if Chris were to be completely honest with himself. He fights the urge to fidget under Karl’s stare, hazel eyes dark and intense even with several yards separating them. He smirks instead, cocky smile and confident baby-blues camouflaging the sudden thrill of nervousness thrumming under his skin.
He hadn’t meant to be caught, merely thinking Karl’d been in a bear of a mood all day and maybe someone making sure he didn’t get up to any mischief would be a good thing. He also hadn’t expected Karl to have absorbed quite so many of his past characters’ skills and practically disappear upon setting foot in the surrounding forest. Confused and highly intrigued, Chris wandered inanely - okay, blundered, loudly - through the trees, searching for the faded olive of Karl’s shirt, only to be abruptly faced with the man himself. Chris swallows as the speculative gleam in Karl’s eyes turns predatory and wonders what the plan is now.
“Heheh, n-nice day, huh?” He winces as his voice creaks and stutters, breaking off almost plaintively as Karl takes a step forward and the distance between them starts to shorten. It’s a gorgeous day outside, had practically sent JJ into raptures with how perfect it was for attempting a run-through for the movie’s hiking scene, but the temperature seems to have suddenly skyrocketed and the gentle breeze does nothing to mitigate the flush Chris can feel climbing his neck. Reflexively, Chris licks a bead of sweat from the corner of his mouth; Karl grins in feral delight, humming darkly under his breath as he continues to close in on Chris. “W-what are you doing, Karl?”
“Hey, there Little Red Riding Hood. You sure are lookin’ good; you’re everything that a big bad wolf could want,” Karl sing-speaks, Bones’ Southern drawl lightly coloring the edges of the words. Chris’ eyes widen and he takes a step back, unsure about this sudden shift in their casual, everyday flirting. Karl takes another step forward and Chris takes another backward, trying to keep a small distance between them. “What big eyes you have, the kind of eyes that drive wolves mad...”
“Karl,” Chris practically barks, sparks running under his skin and a shiver running down his back at the gleam in those hazel eyes. His hands raise almost defensively in front of him, though he’s starting to wonder who he’s kidding - he’s not going to tell Karl ‘no’, not after all of the innuendo and sideways glances since filming started again.
A twig cracks underfoot just before the heel of Chris’ shoe catches on a tree root. He overbalances backward, arms flailing, and lands with his back against a solid tree trunk, fingers scrabbling on the rough bark as Karl reaches out a hand to steady him.
Karl prowls forward until there’s mere inches separating them. “What full lips you have. They’re sure to lure someone bad...” His voice drifts off into silence as he cocks his head slightly sideways, eyes inquisitive and assessing as he drags the pad of a thumb across Chris’ lower lip. Chris sucks in a breath, tasting the tension in the air, and feels his heart stop in his chest as Karl’s lips descend on his, claiming, branding, devouring him in one quick gulp.
When they part for air, Chris’ hands are firmly clenched in Karl’s shirt, straining the one beleaguered button holding it shut as he chases Karl’s taste on his lips. Tugging lightly, Chris pulls Karl close again.
“Little Red Riding Hood, I’d like to hold you if I could,” he breathes hotly into the shell of Karl’s ear and licks a stripe up his neck, tasting the shiver that runs through the other man. “But you might think I’m a big bad wolf, so I won’t.” He nips at Karl’s earlobe, cards laid out on the table and the ball firmly in Karl’s court.
Everything freezes for a second, Chris’ hands still fisted in Karl’s shirt and bodies nearly touching, as Chris waits for a response.
“Even bad wolves can be good,” Karl mutters against the side of Chris’ neck, stubble gritting white-hot as it drags against stubble.
“Not too good, I hope,” Chris laughs back breathlessly, the sound stretching off into a moan as Karl bites a kiss to his Adam’s apple.
+++
September 23, 2010
Title: Good Things Come to Those Who Wait
Rating: PG
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Someone calls his name one last time as he’s getting into the car. He looks up and smiles at the little girl bouncing and waving from her mother’s arms, makes her laugh and hide her face when he winks and pulls a funny face. It’s that image, the sight of a blond-haired cherub giggling in pure delight, that he takes with him, suddenly turning an exhausting day into something more enjoyable.
He’s blinking to adjust his eyes to the dark confines of the car, absolutely unable to see anything for the moment, when hands latch on to the open collar of his shirt and a body presses itself against his left side.
“God, you’re so... I can’t even...” is rasped harshly into his ear just before the owner of the voice licks a hot stripe up the side of his neck. His head falls back against the butter-soft leather of the seat, allowing freer access, as his legs fall open in invitation. “You with the buttons and this stupid mole.” The weight next to him shifts to straddle his lap, hot breath against his skin is the only warning before that devious mouth latches onto the dip between his collarbones.
In no time flat, his shirt is unbuttoned and framing his chest in olive-smooth contrast. He grins into the darkness of the car, teeth glinting in the low light as the man in his lap leans back to take in the view, presenting him with another image that makes the day a lot fucking better - Chris, blond hair mussed, plush red lips slick from that obscene habit of his, and blue eyes hot and wild as they rake over Karl’s exposed skin before hauling themselves back to his face.
“Missed me that much? We’ve been together all day.” His voice is rough, more a growl than anything else, and Chris shivers visibly before launching himself back at Karl’s neck.
“Could look, not touch,” he murmurs against the underside of Karl’s chin, tipping his head back against the seat again to feather little kisses, nips, and licks against his skin. Karl gives himself up to the sensation, fingers curled into the warm fabric stretched over Chris’ thighs, sighing into Chris’ mouth when he makes his way over Karl’s chin for a kiss.
It’s not very far to their hotel, but they make the most of it, ignoring the driver sitting only feet away as they move languidly against each other, kissing and touching their fill after a day without. When the car pulls to a stop, Chris tucks his face in Karl’s neck, panting wetly against his collar, body taut with arousal. Karl runs soothing hands down his back, nuzzling Chris’ ear as he tries to calm his own breathing. Eventually, after the third time the driver’s cleared his throat, Chris pulls back, blue eyes shining.
“Come to my room tonight?” he asks, his tone almost as confident as usual, though a thread of doubt underlies the words. Karl grins at him and pulls him down for one more kiss, huffing a laugh as the driver sighs in exasperation and shakes his head.
“Guess.”
Chris’s always been a smart cookie, he thinks to himself as he’s practically dragged through the hotel.
September 2, 2010
Title: Feather-light
Rating: NC-17
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Fingertips trail live fire down his arms, across his stomach and lower, whorls and ridges catching on hair and freckles, sparking white-hot over sweat-soaked skin, and he can’t breathe, it’s so- ungh, God, Karl-
“Shh.” It’s a soft exhalation, fanned gently over the shell of his ear as the pad of one finger slides up his thigh, slowly, so slowly, until the anticipation is more intense than the actual touch and he didn’t think that was possible, but, oh, my God, the man’s fingers, and he can’t even think anymore, reduced to a limp, breathless, begging mass of want by the barely-there, feather-light brushes of Karl’s fingers against his skin.
“K-karl,” he stutters, but there’s too much and not nearly enough, his throat working urgently as fingers gently circle him, cupping loosely, not moving, just there and, by now, he’s so desperate he could cry, the muscles in his legs and stomach drawn so iron-tight he can’t feel his toes, though he knows, distantly, that they’re curled into the sweaty sheets at the end of the bed. And then Karl moves his hand, tightens his fingers just the slightest on the up-stroke, and Chris fucking keens, head thrust back into the skin-hot pillows and hips jolting against the restraining arm spanning his pelvis, mattress creaking as he strains upward.
“Like that, huh?” Karl chuckles darkly into his ear, fingers just caressing again, up and down and under and around, toying with Chris, torturing, teasing, playing his body like a finely crafted instrument. “God, I’m barely touching you and you’re just wrecked,” he growls, sucking Chris’ earlobe between his teeth as his hand tightens again and Chris is done. White light bursts behind closed eyelids as he sparks off the bed, a bottle rocket whistle-popping in a high arc that leaves glimmering afterimages obscuring his vision until all he can see is the smoldering green-brown of Karl’s eyes.
+++
September 20, 2010
Title: Born to be Wild
Rating: PG
------------
It’s a little unnerving, actually, if Chris were to be completely honest with himself. He fights the urge to fidget under Karl’s stare, hazel eyes dark and intense even with several yards separating them. He smirks instead, cocky smile and confident baby-blues camouflaging the sudden thrill of nervousness thrumming under his skin.
He hadn’t meant to be caught, merely thinking Karl’d been in a bear of a mood all day and maybe someone making sure he didn’t get up to any mischief would be a good thing. He also hadn’t expected Karl to have absorbed quite so many of his past characters’ skills and practically disappear upon setting foot in the surrounding forest. Confused and highly intrigued, Chris wandered inanely - okay, blundered, loudly - through the trees, searching for the faded olive of Karl’s shirt, only to be abruptly faced with the man himself. Chris swallows as the speculative gleam in Karl’s eyes turns predatory and wonders what the plan is now.
“Heheh, n-nice day, huh?” He winces as his voice creaks and stutters, breaking off almost plaintively as Karl takes a step forward and the distance between them starts to shorten. It’s a gorgeous day outside, had practically sent JJ into raptures with how perfect it was for attempting a run-through for the movie’s hiking scene, but the temperature seems to have suddenly skyrocketed and the gentle breeze does nothing to mitigate the flush Chris can feel climbing his neck. Reflexively, Chris licks a bead of sweat from the corner of his mouth; Karl grins in feral delight, humming darkly under his breath as he continues to close in on Chris. “W-what are you doing, Karl?”
“Hey, there Little Red Riding Hood. You sure are lookin’ good; you’re everything that a big bad wolf could want,” Karl sing-speaks, Bones’ Southern drawl lightly coloring the edges of the words. Chris’ eyes widen and he takes a step back, unsure about this sudden shift in their casual, everyday flirting. Karl takes another step forward and Chris takes another backward, trying to keep a small distance between them. “What big eyes you have, the kind of eyes that drive wolves mad...”
“Karl,” Chris practically barks, sparks running under his skin and a shiver running down his back at the gleam in those hazel eyes. His hands raise almost defensively in front of him, though he’s starting to wonder who he’s kidding - he’s not going to tell Karl ‘no’, not after all of the innuendo and sideways glances since filming started again.
A twig cracks underfoot just before the heel of Chris’ shoe catches on a tree root. He overbalances backward, arms flailing, and lands with his back against a solid tree trunk, fingers scrabbling on the rough bark as Karl reaches out a hand to steady him.
Karl prowls forward until there’s mere inches separating them. “What full lips you have. They’re sure to lure someone bad...” His voice drifts off into silence as he cocks his head slightly sideways, eyes inquisitive and assessing as he drags the pad of a thumb across Chris’ lower lip. Chris sucks in a breath, tasting the tension in the air, and feels his heart stop in his chest as Karl’s lips descend on his, claiming, branding, devouring him in one quick gulp.
When they part for air, Chris’ hands are firmly clenched in Karl’s shirt, straining the one beleaguered button holding it shut as he chases Karl’s taste on his lips. Tugging lightly, Chris pulls Karl close again.
“Little Red Riding Hood, I’d like to hold you if I could,” he breathes hotly into the shell of Karl’s ear and licks a stripe up his neck, tasting the shiver that runs through the other man. “But you might think I’m a big bad wolf, so I won’t.” He nips at Karl’s earlobe, cards laid out on the table and the ball firmly in Karl’s court.
Everything freezes for a second, Chris’ hands still fisted in Karl’s shirt and bodies nearly touching, as Chris waits for a response.
“Even bad wolves can be good,” Karl mutters against the side of Chris’ neck, stubble gritting white-hot as it drags against stubble.
“Not too good, I hope,” Chris laughs back breathlessly, the sound stretching off into a moan as Karl bites a kiss to his Adam’s apple.
+++
September 23, 2010
Title: Good Things Come to Those Who Wait
Rating: PG
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Someone calls his name one last time as he’s getting into the car. He looks up and smiles at the little girl bouncing and waving from her mother’s arms, makes her laugh and hide her face when he winks and pulls a funny face. It’s that image, the sight of a blond-haired cherub giggling in pure delight, that he takes with him, suddenly turning an exhausting day into something more enjoyable.
He’s blinking to adjust his eyes to the dark confines of the car, absolutely unable to see anything for the moment, when hands latch on to the open collar of his shirt and a body presses itself against his left side.
“God, you’re so... I can’t even...” is rasped harshly into his ear just before the owner of the voice licks a hot stripe up the side of his neck. His head falls back against the butter-soft leather of the seat, allowing freer access, as his legs fall open in invitation. “You with the buttons and this stupid mole.” The weight next to him shifts to straddle his lap, hot breath against his skin is the only warning before that devious mouth latches onto the dip between his collarbones.
In no time flat, his shirt is unbuttoned and framing his chest in olive-smooth contrast. He grins into the darkness of the car, teeth glinting in the low light as the man in his lap leans back to take in the view, presenting him with another image that makes the day a lot fucking better - Chris, blond hair mussed, plush red lips slick from that obscene habit of his, and blue eyes hot and wild as they rake over Karl’s exposed skin before hauling themselves back to his face.
“Missed me that much? We’ve been together all day.” His voice is rough, more a growl than anything else, and Chris shivers visibly before launching himself back at Karl’s neck.
“Could look, not touch,” he murmurs against the underside of Karl’s chin, tipping his head back against the seat again to feather little kisses, nips, and licks against his skin. Karl gives himself up to the sensation, fingers curled into the warm fabric stretched over Chris’ thighs, sighing into Chris’ mouth when he makes his way over Karl’s chin for a kiss.
It’s not very far to their hotel, but they make the most of it, ignoring the driver sitting only feet away as they move languidly against each other, kissing and touching their fill after a day without. When the car pulls to a stop, Chris tucks his face in Karl’s neck, panting wetly against his collar, body taut with arousal. Karl runs soothing hands down his back, nuzzling Chris’ ear as he tries to calm his own breathing. Eventually, after the third time the driver’s cleared his throat, Chris pulls back, blue eyes shining.
“Come to my room tonight?” he asks, his tone almost as confident as usual, though a thread of doubt underlies the words. Karl grins at him and pulls him down for one more kiss, huffing a laugh as the driver sighs in exasperation and shakes his head.
“Guess.”
Chris’s always been a smart cookie, he thinks to himself as he’s practically dragged through the hotel.