[Fanfiction] The Same Thing, by callieach
Title: The Same Thing
Author: callieach
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1167
Summary: It's dirty and passionate and wordy and physical.
Warnings: language, sex
Disclaimer: Clearly not mine.
Author's Notes: This fandom and these two are turning me into a pervert, I swear.
They fuck the same way they fight.
It's dirty and passionate and wordy and physical. They fight for dominance, and even when one of them winds up on the bottom, he lets the winner know it's not a real victory, there's no real control, because this is how he likes it anyway. There's name-calling and usually someone ends up with a physical mark or two.
Sometimes, with these two, fucking and fighting are the same thing.
"I didn't like the way you were looking at that blue girl at the banquet," Bones says as soon as they're alone.
"She was looking at me first. I was returning the favour," Jim replies. It's a little bit defensive, a little bit twistedly seductive, that stride of his.
They get in a turbolift. "Just because someone looks at you means you have to undress them with your eyes."
"You'd rather I undress them with my hands?"
"Fuck you."
They get off the turbolift. "I know that's what you want."
"You cocky bastard. You think I'm always going to be here."
A beat. A shift in proximity. "You breaking up with me, Bones?"
"It would teach you a lesson."
"I thought you were a doctor, not a teacher." They enter the captain's quarters, which they practically share now anyway. Jim's volume drops. "But we could play that game if you wanted, professor."
"You're twisted." Bones doesn't stop Jim's fingers tapping a delicate tattoo down his chest to his groin.
"I know."
"And you were undressing that girl with your eyes."
Jim swiftly unclasps Bones' uniform. "And now I'm undressing you. Is that a problem?"
"I hate you, Jim."
"But only sometimes." Jim uncovers a bit of Bones' neck and sucks on the bare flesh he finds there. "Right?"
Bones grabs Jim so firmly and so fast by the arms that Jim doesn't have time to react before their lips crash together.
By the time they've moved into the bedroom, they're both naked, and Bones is still holding onto Jim a little too tightly. Jim wriggles, ducks, then reappears a few paces away, breathing heavily.
"So I'm not allowed to look at the daughter of the chief, but you can flirt outrageously with the head server, right?" he asks.
"Complementing efficiency is not the same as flirting outrageously."
"Your drawl had him drooling and you know it. You were lapping it up, 'Naw, sir, I'm not cheatin' if we're not touchin'.'"
They're both painfully hard and it's a clear physical effort to keep from touching each other.
"I didn't say anything like that," Bones defends.
"But you might as fucking well have."
"Don't be jealous because you don't do anything worth complementing."
"Keeping this crew running smoothly and putting up with you daily isn't worth complementing?"
"Half the crew'd be dead, the danger you put them in, if it weren't for me. And isn't it me who has to put up with you?" Bones punctuates the last word with a finger jabbed at Jim's chest. This is the sign to resume the previous battle of who can bruise the other's lips hardest.
Bones hits the bed first, but quickly flips over onto Jim, pinning him down. "Just admit it, damnit, you're a cocky, jealous bastard," Bones says, in between damaging kisses.
Jim dodges a few of those kisses, maintaining eye contact instead. "And if I admit it, will you fuck me harder?"
"Harder than usual?" Bones narrows his eyes. "I don't think you can handle that."
"You're forgetting who I am, Bones."
"And who's that?"
"James fucking Kirk." He reaches a hand between them, brushing against his own flesh and flesh he knows as well as his own, until he reaches the base of his partner's erection. He squeezes.
Bones inhales with a hiss. "Fuck, Jim."
Jim doesn't remove his hand, just flexes his fingers in a way that makes Bones arch his back a little. Bones takes the opportunity to kiss the smug grin off Jim's face, biting his bottom lip while he reaches into the bedside table for the tube of lubricant. He fumbles with it one-handedly for a while before Jim stops what he's doing to help.
"Are we still fighting?" Bones asks as he moves lower down his lover's lean body, fingers prepared with lube.
"I don't think -" Jim gasps when Bones suddenly sticks two fingers up his ass. " - so. But it's hotter when we are."
Bones adds a third finger and more pressure. "I was thinking the same thing," he says in the low voice that goes straight to Jim's cock.
"Would you hurry the fuck up already?"
"And if I don't? Maybe I'd rather see you squirm." Continuing the anal stimulation, Bones starts working Jim's erection with his other hand. "Maybe you deserve to be teased."
"Bastard."
Bones keeps up the game a little longer before bracing himself with one hand and using the other to guide himself into Jim, who responds by moaning and feeling right, as always. Jim's blue eyes are practically flashing a warning for another telling off, so Bones starts moving, thrusting his hips forward and back. Jim starts to meet the thrusts, exponentially increasing the pleasure.
"Fuck me harder, Bones," Jim manages to get out between gritted teeth, propped up on his elbows.
"You're way too fucking needy," Bones mutters, but increases his pace, angling to better hit his prostate. Jim's orgasm, muscles contracting violently, sets off his own.
When they're both spent, Bones moves up the bed to collapse beside Jim, intertwining their legs in the process. They share a slow, lazy kiss, and then Jim rolls over onto his side and snuggles up properly next to Bones. "I'm sorry I accused you of flirting with the head server," he says sweetly.
"And I'm sorry I made a big deal of you making eyes at the blue girl," Bones says, sounding a little tired and planting an accompanying kiss on Jim's forehead.
"Now that we've made up," Jim says, as if it hasn't been his plan all along, "wanna go take a shower?"
"Only if you get up and start it."
Jim pouts. "You started the fight. You should have to do it."
"You provoked me," Bones says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Besides, I had to start the shower last time he had fight sex."
"Are we keeping track of who's turn it is now, then?"
"Sure."
"And I suppose we'll be keeping score next."
"Don't know if you'd want to do that. I don't think you could handle losing that badly."
Now it's Jim's turn to give an unenthused "I hate you." He follows it with a passionate kiss and a complicated backwards wiggle in an effort to get Bones out of bed. It takes kissing and a pull on his hand to get him out of bed. Then Jim leads him by hand to the shower.
The problem with these sorts of fights, they find, is that it's impossible to tell who won.
Author: callieach
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1167
Summary: It's dirty and passionate and wordy and physical.
Warnings: language, sex
Disclaimer: Clearly not mine.
Author's Notes: This fandom and these two are turning me into a pervert, I swear.
They fuck the same way they fight.
It's dirty and passionate and wordy and physical. They fight for dominance, and even when one of them winds up on the bottom, he lets the winner know it's not a real victory, there's no real control, because this is how he likes it anyway. There's name-calling and usually someone ends up with a physical mark or two.
Sometimes, with these two, fucking and fighting are the same thing.
"I didn't like the way you were looking at that blue girl at the banquet," Bones says as soon as they're alone.
"She was looking at me first. I was returning the favour," Jim replies. It's a little bit defensive, a little bit twistedly seductive, that stride of his.
They get in a turbolift. "Just because someone looks at you means you have to undress them with your eyes."
"You'd rather I undress them with my hands?"
"Fuck you."
They get off the turbolift. "I know that's what you want."
"You cocky bastard. You think I'm always going to be here."
A beat. A shift in proximity. "You breaking up with me, Bones?"
"It would teach you a lesson."
"I thought you were a doctor, not a teacher." They enter the captain's quarters, which they practically share now anyway. Jim's volume drops. "But we could play that game if you wanted, professor."
"You're twisted." Bones doesn't stop Jim's fingers tapping a delicate tattoo down his chest to his groin.
"I know."
"And you were undressing that girl with your eyes."
Jim swiftly unclasps Bones' uniform. "And now I'm undressing you. Is that a problem?"
"I hate you, Jim."
"But only sometimes." Jim uncovers a bit of Bones' neck and sucks on the bare flesh he finds there. "Right?"
Bones grabs Jim so firmly and so fast by the arms that Jim doesn't have time to react before their lips crash together.
By the time they've moved into the bedroom, they're both naked, and Bones is still holding onto Jim a little too tightly. Jim wriggles, ducks, then reappears a few paces away, breathing heavily.
"So I'm not allowed to look at the daughter of the chief, but you can flirt outrageously with the head server, right?" he asks.
"Complementing efficiency is not the same as flirting outrageously."
"Your drawl had him drooling and you know it. You were lapping it up, 'Naw, sir, I'm not cheatin' if we're not touchin'.'"
They're both painfully hard and it's a clear physical effort to keep from touching each other.
"I didn't say anything like that," Bones defends.
"But you might as fucking well have."
"Don't be jealous because you don't do anything worth complementing."
"Keeping this crew running smoothly and putting up with you daily isn't worth complementing?"
"Half the crew'd be dead, the danger you put them in, if it weren't for me. And isn't it me who has to put up with you?" Bones punctuates the last word with a finger jabbed at Jim's chest. This is the sign to resume the previous battle of who can bruise the other's lips hardest.
Bones hits the bed first, but quickly flips over onto Jim, pinning him down. "Just admit it, damnit, you're a cocky, jealous bastard," Bones says, in between damaging kisses.
Jim dodges a few of those kisses, maintaining eye contact instead. "And if I admit it, will you fuck me harder?"
"Harder than usual?" Bones narrows his eyes. "I don't think you can handle that."
"You're forgetting who I am, Bones."
"And who's that?"
"James fucking Kirk." He reaches a hand between them, brushing against his own flesh and flesh he knows as well as his own, until he reaches the base of his partner's erection. He squeezes.
Bones inhales with a hiss. "Fuck, Jim."
Jim doesn't remove his hand, just flexes his fingers in a way that makes Bones arch his back a little. Bones takes the opportunity to kiss the smug grin off Jim's face, biting his bottom lip while he reaches into the bedside table for the tube of lubricant. He fumbles with it one-handedly for a while before Jim stops what he's doing to help.
"Are we still fighting?" Bones asks as he moves lower down his lover's lean body, fingers prepared with lube.
"I don't think -" Jim gasps when Bones suddenly sticks two fingers up his ass. " - so. But it's hotter when we are."
Bones adds a third finger and more pressure. "I was thinking the same thing," he says in the low voice that goes straight to Jim's cock.
"Would you hurry the fuck up already?"
"And if I don't? Maybe I'd rather see you squirm." Continuing the anal stimulation, Bones starts working Jim's erection with his other hand. "Maybe you deserve to be teased."
"Bastard."
Bones keeps up the game a little longer before bracing himself with one hand and using the other to guide himself into Jim, who responds by moaning and feeling right, as always. Jim's blue eyes are practically flashing a warning for another telling off, so Bones starts moving, thrusting his hips forward and back. Jim starts to meet the thrusts, exponentially increasing the pleasure.
"Fuck me harder, Bones," Jim manages to get out between gritted teeth, propped up on his elbows.
"You're way too fucking needy," Bones mutters, but increases his pace, angling to better hit his prostate. Jim's orgasm, muscles contracting violently, sets off his own.
When they're both spent, Bones moves up the bed to collapse beside Jim, intertwining their legs in the process. They share a slow, lazy kiss, and then Jim rolls over onto his side and snuggles up properly next to Bones. "I'm sorry I accused you of flirting with the head server," he says sweetly.
"And I'm sorry I made a big deal of you making eyes at the blue girl," Bones says, sounding a little tired and planting an accompanying kiss on Jim's forehead.
"Now that we've made up," Jim says, as if it hasn't been his plan all along, "wanna go take a shower?"
"Only if you get up and start it."
Jim pouts. "You started the fight. You should have to do it."
"You provoked me," Bones says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Besides, I had to start the shower last time he had fight sex."
"Are we keeping track of who's turn it is now, then?"
"Sure."
"And I suppose we'll be keeping score next."
"Don't know if you'd want to do that. I don't think you could handle losing that badly."
Now it's Jim's turn to give an unenthused "I hate you." He follows it with a passionate kiss and a complicated backwards wiggle in an effort to get Bones out of bed. It takes kissing and a pull on his hand to get him out of bed. Then Jim leads him by hand to the shower.
The problem with these sorts of fights, they find, is that it's impossible to tell who won.