Rapture (NC-17)
Title: Rapture
Author: shinychimera
Beta: yeomanrand
Pairings: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Length: about 3,500 words complete
Summary: Aliens wipe Jim Kirk's memory to make him an acolyte in their holy brothel, and he enthusiastically uses his body to bring unbelievers to the faith. When rescue arrives, Jim decides that Bones must be "saved".
Disclaimer: Characters not mine, never were
Notes:Written for this prompt at the st_xi_kink_meme: Aliens whammy Kirk, wiping his memory, to make him think that he is a acolyte in their temple - think "holy brothel". Once Jim is rescued, Bones is the one who has to deal with Jim trying to bring him to the faith with his body, while trying to restore Jim's memories.
Warnings: How's this for a combination? Dubious consent and fluff. Includes a short description of rape near the beginning. Then a doctor having sex with an eager but drugged/amnesic patient. For a short and cheerful prompt fill I gave them a "meant-to-be" happy ending but there's still somewhat squicky issues here.
Jim Kirk felt like a god. His body trembled with ecstasy, naked and hard beneath tissue-thin golden robes. He stood with his hands upraised atop a glassy pyramid centered within the temple, surrounded by naked men and women singing his praises, showering him with tiny fruits and flowers. His senses were filled, and his body was clean and hungry. He lowered his arms, and the crowd of acolytes parted for him, urging him on. He loped down the steps of the pyramid, through the dim and lushly cushioned temple, and past the garden gates out into the street.
There, he was surrounded by the ungodly, clad in their dull mean clothing, eyes full of cynicism, sadness, and occasional lust as they glanced at his shining eyes and robes. He searched among them until a man's face called to him, filling him with inspiration and desire, and Jim took his hand and pulled him through the temple gates.
Jim sprawled onto the cushions, legs spread wide, holding the unbeliever's gaze while naked acolytes swarmed around him. They held a goblet to the man's lips, stripped his clothes, cleaned his skin with warm cloths, anointed him with oil from the base of his spine, down and around all his crevices and bulges, and up to his navel. Finally, they allowed him to sink down next to their newest hierodule.
Skin tingling, Jim slid their bodies against each other, mouth open and ready for the stranger's devouring kisses. His fingers traced the god's path: the eyebrows and the corner of the jaw, the pulse points in the neck, the taut nipples and tender underarms, the hipbones and the sweet curve under the buttocks... by then his partner was saying prayers of his own, seizing Jim's thighs and pressing up between them. He forced his way roughly, but Jim only moaned in ecstasy, welcoming him in. Their bodies heaved on the cushions, becoming slick with sweat, and the man's eyes slowly softened as he allowed the god to enter him. Jim rejoiced, allowing the rapture to build and reverberate between them, and knew that this was all he had ever been meant for.
Afterward, the new believer was led away, dazed, and the acolytes cleaned Jim's body and draped his robe around him and offered him water, but he was already hollow and hungry again, drawn toward the street, knowing there were dead souls out there waiting to be revived.
He roamed farther afield this time and found a woman with shy wary eyes, who tried to draw back from his insistent pull. He dropped to his knees before her, begging her to come to the temple with him. She glanced around nervously, but his honest, beseeching blue eyes drew her in, and finally she followed him through the gates. He allowed the helpers to offer her the goblet, but undressed her himself while fingertips and kisses traced her round face with breathless passion. His lips eagerly pushed straps and lace aside, hands pressing her bountiful breasts together and mouth devouring them until she was moaning. Jim sank slowly to his knees, drawing her down with him. He stroked fingers along the sensuous curves of her beautiful fat belly, around her back, and nuzzled into the perfume of her neck as his cock pressed and prodded eagerly against her body.
He kissed her deeply, powerfully, pulling her hard against him and whispering pleas to be allowed to do more, and she murmured her agreement. They rolled onto the cushions and he allowed his tongue to trace the path, taking his time and paying rapt attention to her gasps and quivers. He spread her labia with thumb and fingers, kneading his other hand into her stomach, and tongued all of her perfect creases and folds. When her body and her voice were shaking with pleasure achieved and rising again, he drew himself up and thrust himself in, crying out at the deep wet rapture of her, and thrust again and again until the god's work was done.
They insisted that he take food and water this time but he resented the time that it took, yearning to be back out among the damned, and they murmured among themselves about how deeply the god had claimed him.
When he was out on the street once more, Jim's robes drew the eye of a trio of miners, filthy clothes and skin a clumsy simile for the lonely filth of their minds. He was fearful, at first, when they dragged him into their lodging, but even without the goblet to open their hearts he gave them everything he could, one after the other. The pain was worth it because their hands became more gentle over time, and they talked worriedly among themselves, after. Two of them ended up carrying him back to the temple, and he knew that the god would speak to them there, and heal them of their shame for taking by force the rapture he was ready to offer freely.
The acolytes wrung their hands over his hurts but their doctor was good despite her gentle voice, and by the time he was healed and they had cleansed him inside and out, he was happy and ready to sleep for a while before the hunger returned.
They woke him with praise and plentiful food the next morning, and again he felt like a god atop the pyramid as they prepared him for the day. His morning was exhausting and fulfilling, and he was just shrugging back into his robes when two men in black pants and bright blue shirts suddenly materialized in the cushioned temple.
Jim felt a surge of overwhelming desire for the one with the instruments in his hands, a bolt directly from the god, and he strode forward, knowing this one must be saved at all costs.
"Jim!" the man said, and then Jim wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and seized his mouth in an overpowering kiss. For half a heartbeat the man yielded, and then his hands were on Jim's arms and he stepped back, pushing Jim gently away.
"Let me help you," Jim said, looking earnestly into his eyes, slipping an arm free and reaching to tug upwards at the hem of the man's shirt. A naked woman stood by with a goblet, but the stranger didn't even look at her.
"I'm not the one needs help right now." He caught Jim's hand in his, and glanced over at his alien-looking companion before bringing up the scanner in his other hand. The acolytes stepped forward, protesting, as the other man spoke into his communicator, and the world dissolved around them.
Startled, Jim arrived in a sleek, unfamiliar room bare of ornament or comfort. He whirled back to the man with the scanner. "What have you done? Take us back!"
"Looks like you've still got the conn for a while, commander," he said, catching Jim's upper arm. "Come on, Jim. You're not going back there."
The electric feel of the beautiful man's hand on his arm drowned out whatever protest Jim might have felt at being kidnapped. He relaxed; he had learned his lesson the day before -- whatever happened was meant to happen, would lead him to the right place. He walked with the man down a bright corridor, licking his lips with anticipation.
They entered a hospital of sorts, beds and technology everywhere. The stranger pursed his lips, glancing down and up again at the thin robes, and pulled Jim into a more private room and gave the computer an override code to seal the door.
Without hesitation, Jim pushed the man back against the wall, smothering him with another fierce kiss. His body demanded more closeness, and more -- he felt like he'd been wanting this for months, years, and a wild, unleashed exultation ran through every nerve. The man was stiff in his arms at first, but his lips were melting under the kiss, and after a moment the scanner he was carrying clattered to the floor.
The kiss broke and the doctor rolled his head to the side, green eyes tormented. "Jim, for God's sake..." he said breathlessly.
"Yes. Yes. For the god's sake." Jim undid the clasp and let the robes fall to the ground, desperate to feel skin touching skin. "Tell me your name," he breathed, running hands up under the man's shirt.
"Oh, Jesus," he growled, but didn't stop Jim from stripping the shirt up over his head and pressing the length of their bare torsos together. "You call me Bones, Jim, you've got to remember that. Christ..." The man gasped, and his eyelids fluttered, half closing as he felt their nipples rub against each other. He was rock hard beneath the dark pants.
"Mmmm. Bones." He stroked his hands down the doctor's arms, pulling them around so that his hands brushed against Jim's ass. "Touch me, Bones."
"Dammit, Jim," Bones panted, and slid his palms up to Jim's waist instead, made as if to push him away.
So familiar, those eyes, those words, this wanting, and yet he was so sure they'd never met before. "Bones," Jim pleaded, frowning. The hunger surged again. "Please."
"This...isn't you. They've drugged you. Messed with your head."
"No. This is what I want. This is what you want." Jim leaned stubbornly forward, slid his tongue up the side of his neck, a dusty-salty-musky taste filling his senses.
"Fuck..." Bones whispered into his hair. The hands trembled against the small of his back, but little by little they inched downwards again, fingers clutching, digging in, sending shivers all through Jim. "I'm going to Hell," he muttered, lips brushing Jim's temple, "in a very special handbasket."
Elated, Jim pushed his hips forward eagerly, and had to taste those lips again. They were like honeyed coffee, like ambrosia with an undertone of bitter bourbon, sweeter than the nectar in the god's goblet but overpowering, addictive. His hands moved of their own accord, unfastening the pants, stripping down the undergarments, brushing the inner thighs as he took hold of the heavy scrotum in one hand, the thick cock in the other.
Bones shuddered, his body taut, and a muffled whimper emerged from his throat. Jim squeezed just so, feeling the thrum of passion reverberating through them both. Bones gazed at him, eyes overflowing with raw desire, and guilt, and need, and pain. And trust. Jim's heart skipped a beat -- this rapture was ten times, a hundred times stronger than what he had felt for the others. He must have more, he must reach this battered soul, he must bring Bones simple uncomplicated joy, or his own heart would break.
Jim kissed his lips, and nuzzled more kisses down his arched throat, across his collarbones, kneading and stroking all the while. He curved his fingers into a cage, drew fingernails tenderly from the base of his cock to the crown, prompting an incoherent gurgle. Then he ghosted the pads of his fingers across the head of the cock, let it bob free of his touch, and dropped to one knee. He pulled the boots and pants off one ankle and then the other swiftly, looking up with adoring eyes. Bones leaned heavily back against the wall, breathing hard.
Jim stood, led Bones by the hand, backed him up against the foot of the narrow, uncomfortable-looking bed with more hungry kisses. He paused for a moment, licked his lips, then with a surety that had to come from the god, took a step and opened a cabinet to find the slim tube he was looking for. He turned back with a grin to where Bones leaned, woefully confused, against the foot of the bed. Jim was determined to give him no more time to think and brood. He slathered his fingers thickly with slick liquid and began to stroke the man's cock back toward mindless ecstasy. After a moment, he laid his erection alongside, tip to base, base to tip, stroking both of them with a firm wet grip.
"Fuck." Bones bowed his face down, let the top of his head rest against Jim's collarbone, gasping and grunting under his ministrations. Jim couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not, but Bones moved his hands slowly over his arms and sides, almost as if he couldn't believe Jim was really there. Every touch sent ripples of delight through his skin, and they groaned together in a rutting rhythm, breath rasping in counterpoint.
Gradually, the feather-light fingers of Jim's free hand began to trace the path, from the corner of the man's eyebrow, down the cheek, along the outline of the jaw. Jim let thumb and fingers cradle his voice box and pushed, ever so gently, until Bones eased back and uncurled along the length of his spine, laying himself onto the bed with his legs dangling to either side of Jim's hips.
Jim held Bones there for a floating moment, lost in his own fierce pleasure; felt the throbbing pulse of Bones' heart in the hollow of his throat in one hand, and in his hard hot cock in the other. He felt dizzy, staring down into those green, hugely dilated eyes. Panting, he let his hand trail down from throat to sternum, looped it back and forth across Bones' nipples, scraped it down the side of his ribcage and hipbone.
"Dammit, fuck, Jim...." Bones murmured, arching his back. Jim's other hand shifted its attention from prick to scrotum, from scrotum to perineum, from perineum to the tight-clenched cleft of his buttocks. He slid a slippery finger forward and back through the crevice, watching, excited beyond rational thought by the feel of that hidden hole and the way Bones shuddered and moaned when he touched it.
Jim drizzled more lubrication between the man's thighs, over his cock and balls, and over his own hand. Then he pushed Bones' legs up, knees bent and parted, his private places exhilaratingly beautiful and vulnerable. Jim's cock quivered with anticipation, and he tried to move slowly as he probed one finger, and then two, into the deep clutching heat -- he wanted to make this perfect for Bones -- but patience seemed to be beyond him. He curled his fingers upwards, gliding fingertips sharply across the prostate to send shocks of pleasure through his friend's body.
"Jim, Jim, Jim, Jim...." Bones cried roughly, his voice ringing inside of Jim like a bell, and he couldn't wait any longer.
He plunged his cock into his own slick hand, sliding the head into Bones while his forefingers slid out, groaning with the glorious god-given certainty that this was what they both wanted. A little too fast, a little too rough, but hot, tight, right in a thousand ways, and he thrust deeper, harder, as if filling Bones completely was the only way he would ever be able to breathe again. Bones gasped beneath him, hooking one leg around Jim's waist and trying to draw him closer.
Jim planted hands on the bed on either side of Bones, driving into him hard, and it wasn't enough, he needed more contact. Jim shifted and braced his hands onto Bones' upper arms instead, leaning his weight heavily onto him as he rocked and pushed and growled, thighs aching with the exertion. Bones didn't try to wriggle free, just let his arms lie at his sides where they were pinned, hands making intermittent fists or scratching at the bed while he lifted and drove his hips to meet Jim's. His throat was bared to the ceiling and the naked urgency in his thrust-shattered moans pushed Jim harder and harder. Sweat trickled down Jim's spine, a desperate ecstasy building within him, around him.
As they worked their frantic bodies together, Jim shifted one hand back to the surface of the biobed so his other could grip and stroke Bones again. He stared into the cloudy green eyes below him, needing to see that he was reaching Bones, saving him...except Bones wasn't a stranger. Bones wasn't an unbeliever. Pleasure rushed over Jim, through him. Bones was...everything. Friend. Doctor. Confidant. His eyes widened, memories rushing in even as his body careened towards its release. Sickbay. Bridge. Captain's quarters. He cried out, joined to Bones in the way he'd always craved, but never dared to pursue, and the excruciating crush of pleasure washed over him, carrying him deeper and deeper into the man he had thought he'd never touch.
And Bones...Bones looked like a agonized angel, face contorted in raw pleasure, hair scattered damp across his forehead, eyes clamped shut with the glitter of tears at the corners as he came.
Jim bowed his head down, shaking. He knew who he was, he remembered the planet, the mission, the sudden certainty that he needed to ditch the landing party and go into a particular building. What the locals had done to him, and why, didn't matter. Because he also remembered everything after he'd gone into the temple, what he'd done in the name of the "god", what he'd done to his closest friend.
Bones hadn't moved, only turned his head aside, eyes still closed. Jim eased backwards, breaking the connection between them, letting Bones' legs uncurl off the end of the bed. He moved so he could lay a hand on his friend's cheek.
"Bones," he whispered. "Bones, please tell me you're all right."
"I'm fine," he said, sitting up slowly, voice raw. "I should be asking you that. I'm sorry, Jim." He slid off the bed, looking at the wall, the floor...anywhere but Jim's face. "Get on up there so I can figure out what they did to your head and fix it."
"I...remember now, Bones. I remember everything."
Bones paused halfway through drawing his shirt on again, and looked sharply at Jim, hazel eyes dark with guilt but assessing Jim's statement. "You still need your head examined."
Jim's heart beat hollowly in his chest. He swallowed, then climbed up onto the bed, knowing that above all Bones needed to do his job. "It wasn't a delusion, was it? You did want....I didn't force this...?"
Bones reached out to flip on the monitors before bending down to retrieve his pants. "You weren't in any condition to force anything, Jim. I should've ... hell." He sighed, eyes on the readouts. "Too late for should haves. Question is, did you want this?"
Jim drew a deep breath, as if the bed was a high dive, an airplane, an orbital platform. "I did. I do. I always have."
"And if I hadn't you couldn't have made me in the first place." Relief flooded through Jim, a complex echo of the simple-minded joy he'd felt under the god's sway. Bones looked him in the eyes. "So what do we do now?"
"You could just kiss me again." He gave Bones his sunniest, most disarming smile. The one that didn't belong to a mindless temple drone.
"Kind of a short-term solution," Bones said, but the corners of his mouth quirked upward as well.
"Yeah. Do you really want to talk about how I'm your commanding officer? Or how neither of us has enough friendships to risk screwing up one this important? Or about how I fucked around so much when we were getting to know each other that you'll never be sure if you can trust me? And I'll never be sure I deserve you?" Jim reached out and took his hands, tugged him closer. "Because I have to say, what I feel was a whole lot clearer to me when I forgot all of that."
Jim watched Bones narrow his eyes, still weighing, measuring, thinking too much.
"What I felt on the planet came from their drugs, their temple, their god or brainwashing machine or whatever it turns out to be. What I felt here came from me. And I'm not giving it up now. So shut up and kiss me, and we'll sort out the rest later."
Bones reached out to cup his cheek, bracing his free hand near Jim's bare shoulder on the bed and leaning in until their lips were almost brushing.
"I trust you, you idiot." And trust. The heart that Jim had feared would break started soaring, instead.
Jim wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and seized his mouth in a sweet, satisfying kiss. This time, Bones didn't pull away, and the rapture between them was all the more potent for being real, shining, undimmed by guilt or pain. Jim pushed himself upright gradually, and Bones slid his arms around him. Jim stroked loving fingers along the corner of Bones' eyebrow.
"You know, it figures," Bones said, acerbic as ever.
Jim frowned, worried. "What do you mean?"
"You would find the one civilization in the galaxy willing to reinforce your obnoxious belief that you are God's gift to the universe."
Jim laughed in delight. "No, I think this time he delivered me directly to you."
Bones leaned his forehead against Jim's and actually, really, honest-to-goodness smiled. And Jim felt like a god.
Author: shinychimera
Beta: yeomanrand
Pairings: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Length: about 3,500 words complete
Summary: Aliens wipe Jim Kirk's memory to make him an acolyte in their holy brothel, and he enthusiastically uses his body to bring unbelievers to the faith. When rescue arrives, Jim decides that Bones must be "saved".
Disclaimer: Characters not mine, never were
Notes:Written for this prompt at the st_xi_kink_meme: Aliens whammy Kirk, wiping his memory, to make him think that he is a acolyte in their temple - think "holy brothel". Once Jim is rescued, Bones is the one who has to deal with Jim trying to bring him to the faith with his body, while trying to restore Jim's memories.
Warnings: How's this for a combination? Dubious consent and fluff. Includes a short description of rape near the beginning. Then a doctor having sex with an eager but drugged/amnesic patient. For a short and cheerful prompt fill I gave them a "meant-to-be" happy ending but there's still somewhat squicky issues here.
Jim Kirk felt like a god. His body trembled with ecstasy, naked and hard beneath tissue-thin golden robes. He stood with his hands upraised atop a glassy pyramid centered within the temple, surrounded by naked men and women singing his praises, showering him with tiny fruits and flowers. His senses were filled, and his body was clean and hungry. He lowered his arms, and the crowd of acolytes parted for him, urging him on. He loped down the steps of the pyramid, through the dim and lushly cushioned temple, and past the garden gates out into the street.
There, he was surrounded by the ungodly, clad in their dull mean clothing, eyes full of cynicism, sadness, and occasional lust as they glanced at his shining eyes and robes. He searched among them until a man's face called to him, filling him with inspiration and desire, and Jim took his hand and pulled him through the temple gates.
Jim sprawled onto the cushions, legs spread wide, holding the unbeliever's gaze while naked acolytes swarmed around him. They held a goblet to the man's lips, stripped his clothes, cleaned his skin with warm cloths, anointed him with oil from the base of his spine, down and around all his crevices and bulges, and up to his navel. Finally, they allowed him to sink down next to their newest hierodule.
Skin tingling, Jim slid their bodies against each other, mouth open and ready for the stranger's devouring kisses. His fingers traced the god's path: the eyebrows and the corner of the jaw, the pulse points in the neck, the taut nipples and tender underarms, the hipbones and the sweet curve under the buttocks... by then his partner was saying prayers of his own, seizing Jim's thighs and pressing up between them. He forced his way roughly, but Jim only moaned in ecstasy, welcoming him in. Their bodies heaved on the cushions, becoming slick with sweat, and the man's eyes slowly softened as he allowed the god to enter him. Jim rejoiced, allowing the rapture to build and reverberate between them, and knew that this was all he had ever been meant for.
Afterward, the new believer was led away, dazed, and the acolytes cleaned Jim's body and draped his robe around him and offered him water, but he was already hollow and hungry again, drawn toward the street, knowing there were dead souls out there waiting to be revived.
He roamed farther afield this time and found a woman with shy wary eyes, who tried to draw back from his insistent pull. He dropped to his knees before her, begging her to come to the temple with him. She glanced around nervously, but his honest, beseeching blue eyes drew her in, and finally she followed him through the gates. He allowed the helpers to offer her the goblet, but undressed her himself while fingertips and kisses traced her round face with breathless passion. His lips eagerly pushed straps and lace aside, hands pressing her bountiful breasts together and mouth devouring them until she was moaning. Jim sank slowly to his knees, drawing her down with him. He stroked fingers along the sensuous curves of her beautiful fat belly, around her back, and nuzzled into the perfume of her neck as his cock pressed and prodded eagerly against her body.
He kissed her deeply, powerfully, pulling her hard against him and whispering pleas to be allowed to do more, and she murmured her agreement. They rolled onto the cushions and he allowed his tongue to trace the path, taking his time and paying rapt attention to her gasps and quivers. He spread her labia with thumb and fingers, kneading his other hand into her stomach, and tongued all of her perfect creases and folds. When her body and her voice were shaking with pleasure achieved and rising again, he drew himself up and thrust himself in, crying out at the deep wet rapture of her, and thrust again and again until the god's work was done.
They insisted that he take food and water this time but he resented the time that it took, yearning to be back out among the damned, and they murmured among themselves about how deeply the god had claimed him.
When he was out on the street once more, Jim's robes drew the eye of a trio of miners, filthy clothes and skin a clumsy simile for the lonely filth of their minds. He was fearful, at first, when they dragged him into their lodging, but even without the goblet to open their hearts he gave them everything he could, one after the other. The pain was worth it because their hands became more gentle over time, and they talked worriedly among themselves, after. Two of them ended up carrying him back to the temple, and he knew that the god would speak to them there, and heal them of their shame for taking by force the rapture he was ready to offer freely.
The acolytes wrung their hands over his hurts but their doctor was good despite her gentle voice, and by the time he was healed and they had cleansed him inside and out, he was happy and ready to sleep for a while before the hunger returned.
They woke him with praise and plentiful food the next morning, and again he felt like a god atop the pyramid as they prepared him for the day. His morning was exhausting and fulfilling, and he was just shrugging back into his robes when two men in black pants and bright blue shirts suddenly materialized in the cushioned temple.
Jim felt a surge of overwhelming desire for the one with the instruments in his hands, a bolt directly from the god, and he strode forward, knowing this one must be saved at all costs.
"Jim!" the man said, and then Jim wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and seized his mouth in an overpowering kiss. For half a heartbeat the man yielded, and then his hands were on Jim's arms and he stepped back, pushing Jim gently away.
"Let me help you," Jim said, looking earnestly into his eyes, slipping an arm free and reaching to tug upwards at the hem of the man's shirt. A naked woman stood by with a goblet, but the stranger didn't even look at her.
"I'm not the one needs help right now." He caught Jim's hand in his, and glanced over at his alien-looking companion before bringing up the scanner in his other hand. The acolytes stepped forward, protesting, as the other man spoke into his communicator, and the world dissolved around them.
Startled, Jim arrived in a sleek, unfamiliar room bare of ornament or comfort. He whirled back to the man with the scanner. "What have you done? Take us back!"
"Looks like you've still got the conn for a while, commander," he said, catching Jim's upper arm. "Come on, Jim. You're not going back there."
The electric feel of the beautiful man's hand on his arm drowned out whatever protest Jim might have felt at being kidnapped. He relaxed; he had learned his lesson the day before -- whatever happened was meant to happen, would lead him to the right place. He walked with the man down a bright corridor, licking his lips with anticipation.
They entered a hospital of sorts, beds and technology everywhere. The stranger pursed his lips, glancing down and up again at the thin robes, and pulled Jim into a more private room and gave the computer an override code to seal the door.
Without hesitation, Jim pushed the man back against the wall, smothering him with another fierce kiss. His body demanded more closeness, and more -- he felt like he'd been wanting this for months, years, and a wild, unleashed exultation ran through every nerve. The man was stiff in his arms at first, but his lips were melting under the kiss, and after a moment the scanner he was carrying clattered to the floor.
The kiss broke and the doctor rolled his head to the side, green eyes tormented. "Jim, for God's sake..." he said breathlessly.
"Yes. Yes. For the god's sake." Jim undid the clasp and let the robes fall to the ground, desperate to feel skin touching skin. "Tell me your name," he breathed, running hands up under the man's shirt.
"Oh, Jesus," he growled, but didn't stop Jim from stripping the shirt up over his head and pressing the length of their bare torsos together. "You call me Bones, Jim, you've got to remember that. Christ..." The man gasped, and his eyelids fluttered, half closing as he felt their nipples rub against each other. He was rock hard beneath the dark pants.
"Mmmm. Bones." He stroked his hands down the doctor's arms, pulling them around so that his hands brushed against Jim's ass. "Touch me, Bones."
"Dammit, Jim," Bones panted, and slid his palms up to Jim's waist instead, made as if to push him away.
So familiar, those eyes, those words, this wanting, and yet he was so sure they'd never met before. "Bones," Jim pleaded, frowning. The hunger surged again. "Please."
"This...isn't you. They've drugged you. Messed with your head."
"No. This is what I want. This is what you want." Jim leaned stubbornly forward, slid his tongue up the side of his neck, a dusty-salty-musky taste filling his senses.
"Fuck..." Bones whispered into his hair. The hands trembled against the small of his back, but little by little they inched downwards again, fingers clutching, digging in, sending shivers all through Jim. "I'm going to Hell," he muttered, lips brushing Jim's temple, "in a very special handbasket."
Elated, Jim pushed his hips forward eagerly, and had to taste those lips again. They were like honeyed coffee, like ambrosia with an undertone of bitter bourbon, sweeter than the nectar in the god's goblet but overpowering, addictive. His hands moved of their own accord, unfastening the pants, stripping down the undergarments, brushing the inner thighs as he took hold of the heavy scrotum in one hand, the thick cock in the other.
Bones shuddered, his body taut, and a muffled whimper emerged from his throat. Jim squeezed just so, feeling the thrum of passion reverberating through them both. Bones gazed at him, eyes overflowing with raw desire, and guilt, and need, and pain. And trust. Jim's heart skipped a beat -- this rapture was ten times, a hundred times stronger than what he had felt for the others. He must have more, he must reach this battered soul, he must bring Bones simple uncomplicated joy, or his own heart would break.
Jim kissed his lips, and nuzzled more kisses down his arched throat, across his collarbones, kneading and stroking all the while. He curved his fingers into a cage, drew fingernails tenderly from the base of his cock to the crown, prompting an incoherent gurgle. Then he ghosted the pads of his fingers across the head of the cock, let it bob free of his touch, and dropped to one knee. He pulled the boots and pants off one ankle and then the other swiftly, looking up with adoring eyes. Bones leaned heavily back against the wall, breathing hard.
Jim stood, led Bones by the hand, backed him up against the foot of the narrow, uncomfortable-looking bed with more hungry kisses. He paused for a moment, licked his lips, then with a surety that had to come from the god, took a step and opened a cabinet to find the slim tube he was looking for. He turned back with a grin to where Bones leaned, woefully confused, against the foot of the bed. Jim was determined to give him no more time to think and brood. He slathered his fingers thickly with slick liquid and began to stroke the man's cock back toward mindless ecstasy. After a moment, he laid his erection alongside, tip to base, base to tip, stroking both of them with a firm wet grip.
"Fuck." Bones bowed his face down, let the top of his head rest against Jim's collarbone, gasping and grunting under his ministrations. Jim couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not, but Bones moved his hands slowly over his arms and sides, almost as if he couldn't believe Jim was really there. Every touch sent ripples of delight through his skin, and they groaned together in a rutting rhythm, breath rasping in counterpoint.
Gradually, the feather-light fingers of Jim's free hand began to trace the path, from the corner of the man's eyebrow, down the cheek, along the outline of the jaw. Jim let thumb and fingers cradle his voice box and pushed, ever so gently, until Bones eased back and uncurled along the length of his spine, laying himself onto the bed with his legs dangling to either side of Jim's hips.
Jim held Bones there for a floating moment, lost in his own fierce pleasure; felt the throbbing pulse of Bones' heart in the hollow of his throat in one hand, and in his hard hot cock in the other. He felt dizzy, staring down into those green, hugely dilated eyes. Panting, he let his hand trail down from throat to sternum, looped it back and forth across Bones' nipples, scraped it down the side of his ribcage and hipbone.
"Dammit, fuck, Jim...." Bones murmured, arching his back. Jim's other hand shifted its attention from prick to scrotum, from scrotum to perineum, from perineum to the tight-clenched cleft of his buttocks. He slid a slippery finger forward and back through the crevice, watching, excited beyond rational thought by the feel of that hidden hole and the way Bones shuddered and moaned when he touched it.
Jim drizzled more lubrication between the man's thighs, over his cock and balls, and over his own hand. Then he pushed Bones' legs up, knees bent and parted, his private places exhilaratingly beautiful and vulnerable. Jim's cock quivered with anticipation, and he tried to move slowly as he probed one finger, and then two, into the deep clutching heat -- he wanted to make this perfect for Bones -- but patience seemed to be beyond him. He curled his fingers upwards, gliding fingertips sharply across the prostate to send shocks of pleasure through his friend's body.
"Jim, Jim, Jim, Jim...." Bones cried roughly, his voice ringing inside of Jim like a bell, and he couldn't wait any longer.
He plunged his cock into his own slick hand, sliding the head into Bones while his forefingers slid out, groaning with the glorious god-given certainty that this was what they both wanted. A little too fast, a little too rough, but hot, tight, right in a thousand ways, and he thrust deeper, harder, as if filling Bones completely was the only way he would ever be able to breathe again. Bones gasped beneath him, hooking one leg around Jim's waist and trying to draw him closer.
Jim planted hands on the bed on either side of Bones, driving into him hard, and it wasn't enough, he needed more contact. Jim shifted and braced his hands onto Bones' upper arms instead, leaning his weight heavily onto him as he rocked and pushed and growled, thighs aching with the exertion. Bones didn't try to wriggle free, just let his arms lie at his sides where they were pinned, hands making intermittent fists or scratching at the bed while he lifted and drove his hips to meet Jim's. His throat was bared to the ceiling and the naked urgency in his thrust-shattered moans pushed Jim harder and harder. Sweat trickled down Jim's spine, a desperate ecstasy building within him, around him.
As they worked their frantic bodies together, Jim shifted one hand back to the surface of the biobed so his other could grip and stroke Bones again. He stared into the cloudy green eyes below him, needing to see that he was reaching Bones, saving him...except Bones wasn't a stranger. Bones wasn't an unbeliever. Pleasure rushed over Jim, through him. Bones was...everything. Friend. Doctor. Confidant. His eyes widened, memories rushing in even as his body careened towards its release. Sickbay. Bridge. Captain's quarters. He cried out, joined to Bones in the way he'd always craved, but never dared to pursue, and the excruciating crush of pleasure washed over him, carrying him deeper and deeper into the man he had thought he'd never touch.
And Bones...Bones looked like a agonized angel, face contorted in raw pleasure, hair scattered damp across his forehead, eyes clamped shut with the glitter of tears at the corners as he came.
Jim bowed his head down, shaking. He knew who he was, he remembered the planet, the mission, the sudden certainty that he needed to ditch the landing party and go into a particular building. What the locals had done to him, and why, didn't matter. Because he also remembered everything after he'd gone into the temple, what he'd done in the name of the "god", what he'd done to his closest friend.
Bones hadn't moved, only turned his head aside, eyes still closed. Jim eased backwards, breaking the connection between them, letting Bones' legs uncurl off the end of the bed. He moved so he could lay a hand on his friend's cheek.
"Bones," he whispered. "Bones, please tell me you're all right."
"I'm fine," he said, sitting up slowly, voice raw. "I should be asking you that. I'm sorry, Jim." He slid off the bed, looking at the wall, the floor...anywhere but Jim's face. "Get on up there so I can figure out what they did to your head and fix it."
"I...remember now, Bones. I remember everything."
Bones paused halfway through drawing his shirt on again, and looked sharply at Jim, hazel eyes dark with guilt but assessing Jim's statement. "You still need your head examined."
Jim's heart beat hollowly in his chest. He swallowed, then climbed up onto the bed, knowing that above all Bones needed to do his job. "It wasn't a delusion, was it? You did want....I didn't force this...?"
Bones reached out to flip on the monitors before bending down to retrieve his pants. "You weren't in any condition to force anything, Jim. I should've ... hell." He sighed, eyes on the readouts. "Too late for should haves. Question is, did you want this?"
Jim drew a deep breath, as if the bed was a high dive, an airplane, an orbital platform. "I did. I do. I always have."
"And if I hadn't you couldn't have made me in the first place." Relief flooded through Jim, a complex echo of the simple-minded joy he'd felt under the god's sway. Bones looked him in the eyes. "So what do we do now?"
"You could just kiss me again." He gave Bones his sunniest, most disarming smile. The one that didn't belong to a mindless temple drone.
"Kind of a short-term solution," Bones said, but the corners of his mouth quirked upward as well.
"Yeah. Do you really want to talk about how I'm your commanding officer? Or how neither of us has enough friendships to risk screwing up one this important? Or about how I fucked around so much when we were getting to know each other that you'll never be sure if you can trust me? And I'll never be sure I deserve you?" Jim reached out and took his hands, tugged him closer. "Because I have to say, what I feel was a whole lot clearer to me when I forgot all of that."
Jim watched Bones narrow his eyes, still weighing, measuring, thinking too much.
"What I felt on the planet came from their drugs, their temple, their god or brainwashing machine or whatever it turns out to be. What I felt here came from me. And I'm not giving it up now. So shut up and kiss me, and we'll sort out the rest later."
Bones reached out to cup his cheek, bracing his free hand near Jim's bare shoulder on the bed and leaning in until their lips were almost brushing.
"I trust you, you idiot." And trust. The heart that Jim had feared would break started soaring, instead.
Jim wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and seized his mouth in a sweet, satisfying kiss. This time, Bones didn't pull away, and the rapture between them was all the more potent for being real, shining, undimmed by guilt or pain. Jim pushed himself upright gradually, and Bones slid his arms around him. Jim stroked loving fingers along the corner of Bones' eyebrow.
"You know, it figures," Bones said, acerbic as ever.
Jim frowned, worried. "What do you mean?"
"You would find the one civilization in the galaxy willing to reinforce your obnoxious belief that you are God's gift to the universe."
Jim laughed in delight. "No, I think this time he delivered me directly to you."
Bones leaned his forehead against Jim's and actually, really, honest-to-goodness smiled. And Jim felt like a god.