Trek fic: Race to the Finish, Jim/Bones, R
It is possible that I ran a race this morning that involved applying bodyglide in intimate places, and this is the fic I wrote in my head while slogging up a very steep hill.
Title: Race to the Finish
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Word count: about 900
Author's note: Not Ameri-picked. Has nothing to do with STID.
Summary: Leonard is finding Jim's preparation for the race round the Enterprise a little distracting.
“Come on, Bones, I can’t believe you aren’t taking part,” said Jim, his voice muffled as he hunted through his clothes for his running gear.
“The whole thing is a damn fool idea,” replied Leonard, from where he was lounging naked under the sheet on Jim’s bunk.
“I seem to remember it was your idea,” pointed out Jim, who, having emptied half his clothes onto the floor, was now pulling on a running vest.
“My idea was a 5 kilometre jog around the Enterprise, something fun for the crew to do together and reminder to keep themselves fit,” replied Leonard. “The fact that certain egos on the bridge started betting each other how far they could go and someone whose ample ass is in the command chair decided a marathon wasn’t good enough and you need to go ultra-distance - that’s not my problem. You came up with your damned 50km challenge, you run it.”
“But you’re not even doing the short fun run,” protested Jim.
“Hell no, I’m a doctor, I hand out advice, I don’t take it,” retorted Leonard, making himself comfortable against the pillows. “Exercise is for other people.”
“I’m going to win this and I’m going to be awesome!” announced Jim.
“My money’s on Sulu, who has been doing actual training, rather than just talking about it. And I’ve been supervising his diet, he’s not been getting ready with double helpings of french fries in the mess.”
“Bones, you traitor, how can you help the opposition?”
“Easy, I’ve got hard credits on Sulu, that man’s a running machine and he’s gonna win this and I’m gonna clean up big,” replied Leonard cheerfully.
“Hey, there’s no gambling on this race,” protested Jim.
“Bless your heart, you probably think there isn’t a still somewhere in the engine rooms and a ship’s cat that sleeps on Pavel’s bunk every night.”
“Yeah, well, the cat’s cute,” said Jim, who was now pulling apart his underwear drawer searching for his running socks. “You’ve seen that latest photos on her fan site, asleep in my chair with the caption: the captain catnapping?”
“Oh yeah, first thing I do each morning, check her fanpage. You saw that one of her sitting on your chair, grooming her privates, with the caption--”
“No time for idle chit-chat Bones, I’m going to run Sulu into the ground and you’re going to lose every credit you’ve got, you faithless bastard.”
“What the fuck are you doing? You’re supposed to be putting on your running gear, not taking it off.” Jim had taken off his pyjama pants but rather than slipping on his running shorts, he’d spread his legs, leaned against the wardrobe with one hand and was sliding the other between his legs.
“Just gotta get lubed up, crotch chafe is not a good look, gotta spread on the bodyglide good and thick, get it right up in there in the crease of the thigh and round the balls.”
“Jim! You shaved, kind of, like, everything!” Leonard had sat up in bed and was now watching the proceedings with considerably more attention than he had previously.
“Taking it seriously, Bones! Less you’ve got down there, less there is to chafe. Besides, it does make me look even, you know, bigger. And let’s face it, it’s not small to start with. Now, the other place you’ve gotta get nice and slick is between the butt cheeks, not a good place to get road rash, kinda puts a damper on the fun times afterwards.”
Leonard took a moment to consider Jim’s hand sliding up and down in the crack of his rather luscious backside. “Jim, is there a reason you have to do this wearing only a vest, with your ass shoved out in my direction?”
“Hey now, you like my ass, you’ve told me that often enough, or moaned it more like.”
“I like it in bed, preferably impaled on my dick, not being waved around in front of my eyes, and besides, how much damned lube are you slathering on there, you’re gonna be squelching round the track.”
“No harm in being thorough.”
“Thorough? As in lubing up inside? Jim, I’ve gotta tell you that runners don’t get chafing inside their asses.”
“Yeah, well, I got a bit distracted once I got going, I figure we might fit in a quickie before the race starts. And don’t tell me you’re not interested. You’ve suddenly pulled your knees up, what are you hiding under that sheet tent? Give it up with the grump and just admit that I’m nuclear fission hot and you lust after me constantly.”
Leonard gave him the glare of doom, which had the normal effect, which is to say none at all. “I don’t do quickies.” He pulled aside the sheet and spread his legs, to show that he had indeed been hiding a well-developed erection. “I do taking you apart piece by piece until you’re a quivering mess, as you well know, and if we get going with that, you’ll miss the start of the race.”
“Yeah, well, sacrifices have to be made!” Jim’s fingers were disappearing up his ass in ways that were making Leonard’s eyes cross. “I’ll catch up from behind and stun them even more with my awesome.”
“Riiiiight. What you mean is starting late will give you an excuse for losing to Sulu.”
“Exactly! And I’ll get well-fucked first, win-win all round. Come on Bones, get over here. We’ll count it as your exercise for the day, seeing as you’re too damned lazy to run.”
- THE END -
Title: Race to the Finish
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Word count: about 900
Author's note: Not Ameri-picked. Has nothing to do with STID.
Summary: Leonard is finding Jim's preparation for the race round the Enterprise a little distracting.
“Come on, Bones, I can’t believe you aren’t taking part,” said Jim, his voice muffled as he hunted through his clothes for his running gear.
“The whole thing is a damn fool idea,” replied Leonard, from where he was lounging naked under the sheet on Jim’s bunk.
“I seem to remember it was your idea,” pointed out Jim, who, having emptied half his clothes onto the floor, was now pulling on a running vest.
“My idea was a 5 kilometre jog around the Enterprise, something fun for the crew to do together and reminder to keep themselves fit,” replied Leonard. “The fact that certain egos on the bridge started betting each other how far they could go and someone whose ample ass is in the command chair decided a marathon wasn’t good enough and you need to go ultra-distance - that’s not my problem. You came up with your damned 50km challenge, you run it.”
“But you’re not even doing the short fun run,” protested Jim.
“Hell no, I’m a doctor, I hand out advice, I don’t take it,” retorted Leonard, making himself comfortable against the pillows. “Exercise is for other people.”
“I’m going to win this and I’m going to be awesome!” announced Jim.
“My money’s on Sulu, who has been doing actual training, rather than just talking about it. And I’ve been supervising his diet, he’s not been getting ready with double helpings of french fries in the mess.”
“Bones, you traitor, how can you help the opposition?”
“Easy, I’ve got hard credits on Sulu, that man’s a running machine and he’s gonna win this and I’m gonna clean up big,” replied Leonard cheerfully.
“Hey, there’s no gambling on this race,” protested Jim.
“Bless your heart, you probably think there isn’t a still somewhere in the engine rooms and a ship’s cat that sleeps on Pavel’s bunk every night.”
“Yeah, well, the cat’s cute,” said Jim, who was now pulling apart his underwear drawer searching for his running socks. “You’ve seen that latest photos on her fan site, asleep in my chair with the caption: the captain catnapping?”
“Oh yeah, first thing I do each morning, check her fanpage. You saw that one of her sitting on your chair, grooming her privates, with the caption--”
“No time for idle chit-chat Bones, I’m going to run Sulu into the ground and you’re going to lose every credit you’ve got, you faithless bastard.”
“What the fuck are you doing? You’re supposed to be putting on your running gear, not taking it off.” Jim had taken off his pyjama pants but rather than slipping on his running shorts, he’d spread his legs, leaned against the wardrobe with one hand and was sliding the other between his legs.
“Just gotta get lubed up, crotch chafe is not a good look, gotta spread on the bodyglide good and thick, get it right up in there in the crease of the thigh and round the balls.”
“Jim! You shaved, kind of, like, everything!” Leonard had sat up in bed and was now watching the proceedings with considerably more attention than he had previously.
“Taking it seriously, Bones! Less you’ve got down there, less there is to chafe. Besides, it does make me look even, you know, bigger. And let’s face it, it’s not small to start with. Now, the other place you’ve gotta get nice and slick is between the butt cheeks, not a good place to get road rash, kinda puts a damper on the fun times afterwards.”
Leonard took a moment to consider Jim’s hand sliding up and down in the crack of his rather luscious backside. “Jim, is there a reason you have to do this wearing only a vest, with your ass shoved out in my direction?”
“Hey now, you like my ass, you’ve told me that often enough, or moaned it more like.”
“I like it in bed, preferably impaled on my dick, not being waved around in front of my eyes, and besides, how much damned lube are you slathering on there, you’re gonna be squelching round the track.”
“No harm in being thorough.”
“Thorough? As in lubing up inside? Jim, I’ve gotta tell you that runners don’t get chafing inside their asses.”
“Yeah, well, I got a bit distracted once I got going, I figure we might fit in a quickie before the race starts. And don’t tell me you’re not interested. You’ve suddenly pulled your knees up, what are you hiding under that sheet tent? Give it up with the grump and just admit that I’m nuclear fission hot and you lust after me constantly.”
Leonard gave him the glare of doom, which had the normal effect, which is to say none at all. “I don’t do quickies.” He pulled aside the sheet and spread his legs, to show that he had indeed been hiding a well-developed erection. “I do taking you apart piece by piece until you’re a quivering mess, as you well know, and if we get going with that, you’ll miss the start of the race.”
“Yeah, well, sacrifices have to be made!” Jim’s fingers were disappearing up his ass in ways that were making Leonard’s eyes cross. “I’ll catch up from behind and stun them even more with my awesome.”
“Riiiiight. What you mean is starting late will give you an excuse for losing to Sulu.”
“Exactly! And I’ll get well-fucked first, win-win all round. Come on Bones, get over here. We’ll count it as your exercise for the day, seeing as you’re too damned lazy to run.”
- THE END -