[FIC] Star Trek: Then, Suddenly, Life Changed [4/6] (Kirk/McCoy, R)
Title: Then, Suddenly, Life Changed [4/6]
Authors: salvaged_pride and sullacat
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing/Characters: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: R for language and sexual situations
Summary: In honor of the one year anniversary of the movie, an AU - What if Leonard McCoy had been at the bar that night? Two men, a cycle, and a trip that changes their lives. 8246 words -- Look for future chapters every other day.
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Distance Traveled:
When Jim woke up the next morning, they were still pressed up to each other, McCoy's arms wrapped around him. He didn't feel the urge to move or even fully waken yet, so he didn't even bother. Jim let himself drift where he was laying, vaguely aware of his surroundings and the surrounding heat. There was a small feeling of motion somewhere directly behind him, a repetitive motion by his thigh. Once aware of it, Jim started to pull his sleepy mind to the surface to focus on it, but before he could do so he felt McCoy get up out of the bed. With his source of warmth leaving, Jim turned over and nosed into the empty spot unconsciously in order to go back to sleep.
It seemed his body had other ideas in mind though. Jim groaned thickly as his body decided it wanted to fuck. It was barely even a thought to reach down and wrap his fingers around himself, stroking himself as he stayed comfortable in the warm spot where two bodies had spent the night. There was no conscious thought about the shower he could hear in the background, or the knowledge that McCoy had taken a shower last night and shouldn't have needed one, but there must have been some unconscious thought about it as he realized he was thinking about that other body that had left. An image of McCoy walking out of the shower with just a towel around his hips, the towel falling to the ground--
Jim gave a little gasp as he came, fingers curling to catch the mess. It felt like being fourteen again and discovering just how un-fun constant morning wood was, stroking one out before he went down to breakfast. He turned over in the bed, peering blearily around in the sunlight coming in through the windows, until he spotted a tissue dispenser. He cleaned himself up before sitting up and throwing the mess into the waste bin. There he sat, elbows tucked on his thighs and slumped over, body content in its used pleasure and the last drifts of sleep.
A small measure of guilt, something James T. Kirk wasn't particularly used to feeling, went through him as he realized that he had been fantasizing about McCoy. McCoy hadn't shown a lick of interest in him like that. Fuck the guy was just divorced, from a woman. Not that it really meant anything, it being from a woman, but the divorce had to make things hard. Jim knew himself to be no small flirt, but he wasn't an asshole about it. If someone showed an active dislike to his flirting, showed no interest in return, he would cut it out. Equally, he knew the smallest sign of interest would keep him going at it long after most men had given up. There'd been plenty of that in the past, working out sometimes and other times... usually ending in his face hurting from a punch or slap.
Jim forced himself out of the warm bed and started to get dressed, eyeing the dusty clothing from yesterday. He took a minute to go outside of the motel, glad they weren't facing the parking lot because he didn't need to be shocking anyone at this hour with his nakedness, and shook the clothing hard to get rid of some of the dust. He went back inside, tugging on the clothing, before he repeated the dusting with McCoy's clothing. He finished just in time, judging from the way the freshly-showered man was sitting on the bed when Jim got back in the room. Wearing his towel again, McCoy watched Jim as he walked back into the room, his eyebrow arched. "Didn't think to wash something last night," he shook his head at his travel bag, full of dirty clothes. "Gonna have to take care of that tonight, I suppose," he added, giving Jim a quiet 'thanks' as he took the jeans from him.
Jim just gave a small grin. "You probably don't want to know how I've been washing my clothes for years. We'll see if we can find someplace for you to do it." Soap, usually the bar he kept in his saddle bag, and whatever water he could get his hands on be it a sink, creek, bathtub...
If McCoy was embarrassed by anything that happened that night (hell, if he even remembered), he wasn't showing it. "I won't break if I gotta wash my clothes in a river," he told him. "You got the route picked out for today?" he asked, standing and walking toward his travel bag. Turning his back to Jim, he dropped his towel and pulled the jeans on right over his naked form.
Jim totally checked out that ass.
Pulling on a slightly wrinkled shirt from his bag, McCoy ran a hand through his hair, straightening it out best he could. "We could stop somewhere later and snack on our supplies instead of eating breakfast. Might save a few bucks."
Jim nodded with McCoy's suggestion, scratching his jawline. "We have enough to get us through breakfast and a little more beyond that. Yea, I have a route planned out. We need to put a lot of miles behind us today, so we should get going." Ignoring the fact he wanted to do several inappropriate things to McCoy in this nice clean hotel room.
"I'm ready when you are," McCoy answered with a grin. Packing up quickly, he was ready to go about the same time Jim was, and soon they were on the road, heading west.
They made it about three hours until McCoy begged to stop for some coffee. Jim teased him for it, but pulled off the road at the next town they came across to suffer McCoy's addiction. They munched on some food bars from their packs and switched off, McCoy taking a longer shift at driving today. Clouds started rolling in, giving them a break from the brutal heat of the day before, and making the afternoon ride easier without the glare. They passed through Colorado and made it into Utah, Jim's route taking them through trees and forests towards Salt Lake City.
It was a mix of the rapidly fading food bars in Jim's stomach and the goofy grin he got on his face when he read the name of the town that encouraged him to stop for lunch. They pulled into a small cafe, stretching their legs as they headed inside and found a booth by the window where they could keep an eye on the cycle. McCoy ordered the burger special and went to the bathroom first. The waitress was just bringing them two glasses of water by the time Jim emerged, dust and grime washed off his hands and face.
McCoy was watching him. "So, what's so funny?" he asked, taking a sip from his glass. "You look like the cat that swallowed the canary."
"Spanish Fork."
"...What?"
"Spanish. Fork."
McCoy's face displayed pure confusion. "What the hell you talking about?" he asked, lowering his voice at the obscenity. "Forks?"
Jim picked up the little dessert menu still on the table and held it an inch in front of McCoy's face so the name of the cafe, which had the name of the town in its logo, was large and very visible. "The name of the town. It's Spanish Fork."
"And?" McCoy grinned a little. "I must be missing the joke - what's so funny?"
He put the menu down, "Come on! It's called Spanish Fork. What the hell kind of name is that? All I can see in my head is a bunch of Spanish people dancing around with forks in their hand when I hear that. But why Spanish Fork? Maybe it was a derogatory name hundreds of years ago and just ended up sticking." Jim rambled on, tapping a finger on the menu.
McCoy arched his eyebrow. Damn, how could one man be so expressive with one eyebrow. "I dunno, Jim, maybe there was a fork in road?" he smirked. "And why's it derogatory? This all used to be Spanish land, right? We had a creek back home called Apalachee Creek. That wasn't derogatory."
Jim just shrugged to that, "Well Spanish people wouldn't call it Spanish Fork. They would call it something like Fork. It had to be people, not-Spanish people, that decided on Spanish Fork."
McCoy rolled his eyes, accepting the plate from the waitress delivering their food. "No, dipshit," he said, popping a fry in his mouth. "They woulda called it el tenedor." Grinning cheekily, he tossed a second fry in after it.
It took Jim a few moments, staring at McCoy in confusion as he tried to place it. He knew it was Spanish but what? Then, all at once, he got it. His grin grew out of the confused expression and he started laughing. "You fucking smart ass old man!" Jim crowed out as tears formed at the edges of eyes, drawing the attention of several people in the cafe who were now looking at him like he had lost his mind.
McCoy just grinned back, waggling his fork at Jim before dropping it by his plate and digging into his burger. He ate like a starving man, inhaling the food in a couple of bites. "Nah, just had a roommate who knew the language. Taught me some words. How come being outside makes me so hungry?" he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Probably 'cause you're used to being stuck in a lab or bay all day!" Jim teased, digging into his own burger. He couldn't put it away like McCoy, but he actually took a few extra seconds to enjoy it.
"Maybe," McCoy nodded, considering Jim's words. Reaching over his plate, he snagged the dessert menu and started looking over it. His eyes danced a little.
"Oh?" Jim wondered what had caught McCoy's eye. He leaned over, peering. Oh. Lemon Meringue Pie. "YES," Jim breathed out. McCoy grinned back and waved the waitress over, ordering a slice with two forks.
When it arrived, McCoy took a bite and sighed, closing his eyes as he ate. "This is delicious," he said, mouth full of pie. "Here, have some," he added, pushing the plate toward Jim.
Jim picked up his fork and dug into the edge of the pie, groaning as he got a taste of fluff white meringue. It was perfect, light and creamy on his tongue. McCoy stopped mid-bite, watching Jim's face before finishing his forkful. Jim opened his eyes just in time to catch an odd look on McCoy's face, something subtle in the raised eyebrow and the parted lips. He looked down at the creamy white on his fork, raised his own brows, and smirked just a little. Hmm...
Jim brought the fork back up to his mouth, giving the tines a long lick. McCoy was still watching Jim, eyes following that fork until it left Jim's mouth. "You like it?" the doctor asked, his face flushing a little.
That flush told Jim more than McCoy probably wanted to know. So there was some interest there? Oh ho ho... Jim tucked his head down and smiled to himself. "Sure do." The tip of his tongue curled around the tip of a tine, then he slid the fork back into the pie for another bite. McCoy countered by taking his own bite, their eyes locked. Jim could damn well play that game if McCoy was up to it.
Before long the pie was gone, both of their forks very clean, and it was time to head out back on the road.
Jim might have taken a little advantage of McCoy after that display in the cafe as McCoy drove. He didn't do anything, not at first, but after about an hour, his fingers strayed from where they had been resting to rub the edge of his thumb against McCoy's stomach. Just testing the waters, as it were. When there was no reaction, good or bad, Jim tried something else instead. His hands smoothed down along McCoy's hips, and along the outside of his thighs. McCoy couldn't ignore it this time, the little smirk on his face showing that he at least knew something was going on. "What are you doin'?" he asked, leaning back a little so he could speak into Jim's ear.
"...feeling you out," Jim whispered back, keeping his voice quiet and low but just loud enough to be heard over wind and engine. He squeezed there at the thighs, getting a little bolder by curling his fingers over the tops of them.
"And how does it feel?" McCoy asked, surprising Jim by not pulling back or away. The doctor just seemed sort of amused by it all.
"Good," Jim sounded just as amused, "really, really good." He flatted his palms along the top, smoothing down towards the knees as far as he could reach.
At that McCoy did stiffen a little, the cycle weaving then straightening back on the road. "You're gonna get us killed, kid," he answered with a little grin Jim could see out of the corner of his eye, his head very close to Jim's as they sped faster. "Wanna make it there in one piece."
Fuck, McCoy was responding to it! Jim felt a shiver go through him and he turned his hands so his fingers curved around the inner thighs and squeezed. "You'll just have to concentrate on the driving," he said quietly. What the hell was it about the doctor that made him want to do every dirty fucking thing he could to the man... while at the same time, he wanted to feel McCoy nice and slow, giving it everything he had...
All of a sudden a clap of thunder could be heard off to the right, and the wind started to pick up. A light rain began falling and McCoy's face turned from curious to worried. "Hey Jim," he called out in a louder voice, "you wanna drive for while? I'm not sure I'm the one who should be behind the wheel right now if it's going to start rainin'." They had to keep going though, if they were going to make their goal. Otherwise, there was no way they'd make it into San Fransisco by tomorrow afternoon.
This was the last thing they needed. Jim cursed nature's choice of timing and nodded. "Pull over." It was a fast change around before Jim pulled the cycle back onto the road. Jim had driven in weather like this, but it was frustrating. He had to slow down quite a bit as the wind brought heavy rain with it, and within minutes the both of them were soaked straight down to the bone. Eventually, as the rain and wind just got worse with each passing mile, he had to call back to McCoy to get an extra shirt out of his saddlebag which he wrapped around his head to keep down the sting. Dammit they were in Nevada, why was it raining like this? If it got any worse, they'd have to stop. Jim determinedly stared ahead with narrowed eyes, fingers tight on the handlebars.
He had made a promise to get McCoy to San Francisco in three days, so he would.
Sitting in the back, McCoy had to lean forward as much as he could to help protect himself and Jim from the rain. McCoy had wrapped his arms around Jim and held on, keeping the weight on the bike as centered as possible as they rode on in the blackening skies. They drove another two hours in this mess before things really began getting bad, the thunder crashing overhead and McCoy holding on tighter and tighter with each turn the bike made. Jim could feel McCoy's hands unconsciously grabbing at his shirt each time they leaned into a turn or the tires on the cycle missed their grip. He was nervous, Jim could tell, breathing and faster now. He swore he could feel McCoy's heartbeat pounding against his back. "You okay?" he heard the doctor ask, mouth in his ear.
If Jim hadn't been working on keeping them on the road so hard, it would have been erotic. Instead, he was using every trick he knew to make sure they stayed upright against the wind, but he was losing this game. The thunderstorm was getting rapidly worse and he had already had to pull at least one desperate save on the bike. "We need to get off the road!" he called back, almost angry at himself because nature was defeating him. His mind was trying to calculate how far they had gotten, if they would even make it there in time...
Jim stared at the evergreens along side of the small highway and hissed through his teeth. They were more dangerous because of the lightning, but they had to get out of the rain. He slowed down before turning off into the woods. McCoy was off the bike as soon as Jim hit the brakes, moving to the other side to help Jim roll the cycle under the trees. At least one small favor, Jim could feel the rain slacken as soon as they got underneath the entwining branches above. "Hey, over there!" he heard McCoy call out. Through squinted eyes against the pouring rain, he could see McCoy pointing at what looked like an overhang in the rocks in front of them.
Getting closer, Jim could make out that it was more that just an overhang or a hole in the rock, it was a cave. When they got close enough, Jim could make out a few warning signs that told him exactly what the cave was - an abandoned mine shaft. They managed to get themselves and the cycle inside just as another bolt of lightning blazed across the sky. McCoy was breathing hard, one hand holding onto the side of the cave as he stared outside at the torrents coming down. With wet hair stuck to his face, McCoy turned to Jim, worry on his face. "You okay?" he asked, stepping close to Jim, too close, looking all over his face like that first night when he'd examined him.
"I'm fine, promise." Jim undid the material from around his head, feeling a stinging sensation from around his eyes and cheeks where the material hadn't covered. He imagined it was a bright pink by now. He looked around the entrance to the small mine before looking back to McCoy with a small grin. "Well, we made it." His heart was still racing from the ride, and McCoy was as wet as he felt and breathing hard. Jim reached out and squeezed McCoy's shoulder. "Just feel like a drowned rat."
But it seemed McCoy wasn't done with Jim, not yet. One hand reached out to Jim's face, lifting his chin and tilting it toward the dim light from outside the mine aided by the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the cave. From the look on his face, he wasn't happy about the way Jim's skin looked. "Dammit Jim," he murmured, his thumb pushing a piece of hair off Jim's cheek, his eyes catching Jim's every few moments. All of a sudden McCoy let go and walked off. "Sit down," he growled and headed over to the bike to dig through his bag.
Thus Jim sat down, blinking. He touched his cheek where McCoy had brushed it, a strange tingling sensation staying behind. Had to be from the light wind burn. He watched McCoy digging, and frowned as he sat dripping onto the cave floor. It was warm inside the protecting rock, and he wanted to strip down and dry himself off with a tee shirt or something from his bag. There was no way their clothing was drying out over night, but at least, with a glance around, they could put their clothing to stop dripping. With that, listening to McCoy talking to himself, Jim started to pull off his jacket and shirt.
When McCoy turned around, he stared at Jim for a moment before moving toward him. He knelt on the ground next to Jim, uncapping a small tube. "Hold still," he growled quietly, sounding angry but the look on his face was anything but, a tangle of emotions that McCoy seemed unable to control. Slowly he applied the ointment to Jim's skin. "Nothing here that'll react with you," he added, very quiet as he smoothed the cream around the irritated skin around Jim's eyes. Jim stayed silent, eyes staying open as he watched McCoy from that close distance. McCoy was a strange one, incredibly gruff and tender at the same time. Like he was angry Jim had gotten hurt at all, however minor, and was determined to make it better.
The skin started to feel cooler, which Jim took to mean it was working. When McCoy was done, his hand dropping away, Jim kept watching him. Tomorrow, though he was pretty sure later than expected, he'd be dropping McCoy off at the Starfleet Academy. McCoy would go and do great things, because the doctor was a damn genius. Jim wouldn't see him again. He wasn't sure why that brought a strange twisting feeling in his stomach; McCoy was still a stranger to him.
Jim reached out, almost touching McCoy, before letting it drop. "...So tomorrow's it," he said roughly, but there was a thankfulness for the doctor's skill in his tone.
"Yeah," McCoy answered, sounding more like the stand-offish stranger he'd been two days ago than the man who has just been holding Jim's face in his hands. Standing up, McCoy headed toward the far side of the mine shaft, pacing a little and burning off nervous energy. A moment later he shook his head, as if pulling himself out of some dark and stormy thoughts. He pulled his shirt off, wringing it out. If Jim was any judge, it looked like McCoy wanted to talk, but didn't know how. "I'm sorry 'bout all this," McCoy finally blurted out, just as Jim was about to say something. "Didn't mean to cause this sorta trouble."
Which just made Jim... laugh. He leaned back against the cool wall of the rock, "You don't think I've never been caught before in a storm? Hell, this is easier than being trapped in a snow storm. It isn't trouble, it really isn't. In fact... I've been enjoying myself over the last few days. Only thing that's bothering me is this," Jim gestured to the sheeting rain outside, "means our chances of making it by tomorrow afternoon are shot." He felt a little angry about that whole situation, that they had tried and were failing. "Besides, I don't normally have a doctor taking care of me for every stupid thing I do." A silent thank you road the ends of Jim's words.
It was getting darker outside rapidly, another clap of thunder punctuating Jim's remarks, but Jim could see McCoy was shaking his head. "Taking care of you?" McCoy repeated, incredulous. "You've trekked some total stranger half way across the country on your cycle for no other reason than you're a damned good guy. I'm so fuckin' busted I can't afford a stupid shuttle ticket, even I could get my ass on one of those death traps." He was pacing again, hands gesturing wildly. "Fuck, Jim, I don't even care 'bout making it on time, I just want to get you somewhere where you won't have to watch my worthless ass anymore."
"...But you have a nice ass, why would I want to stop watching it?" The words just slipped out before Jim could put a mental filter on them. He continued on regardless. "I told you, I've been enjoying myself. I'm getting somewhere new. There's a lot I can do in California." Jim still wondered how someone so afraid of space was going to do in Starfleet. Hopefully they would put McCoy in a lab, in a medical clinic, doing what he should do.
But McCoy still wasn't having any of it. The little bit of evening light was dying with each minute, but the look of anger and concern on his face was right out there for Jim to see. Still breathing hard, he walked over to where Jim was standing and got close again, too close, almost pressing Jim back into the rock. They stood there staring at each other, wet and shirtless, and just when it looked like nothing was going to happen, McCoy touched Jim's chin, letting out a small breath as he leaned in, closed his eyes, and pressed their mouths together.
It was far from the first time Jim had kissed someone, equally as far from the first time someone had kissed him, but it was the first time someone had taken him by such surprise with a kiss. Jim was keenly aware of every place their bodies touched chestlipschinthighs. It was only instinct to bring his hands up, sliding them against wet skin until they met at the small of McCoy's back. Jim's eyes fell shut and he kissed back, taking control of the almost frantic kiss. McCoy's hands were holding Jim's head, cradling it carefully despite the roughness of the kiss, the scratchy feeling of his stubble against Jim's skin almost painful.
Another flash of lightning lit up the cave and they could see each other's faces for just a split second, looking at each other with hungry looks until the thunder shook again. They jumped a little, pulling each other closer, crashing their mouths together again almost desperately. McCoy groaned, his hands sliding into Jim's hair, pulling it back and exposing his neck as his mouth moved down and began biting at Jim's throat.
Fuck, McCoy was going at him like a man hungry for it. Jim wondered just how long it had been, if McCoy had been getting any from his wife long before the divorce. He wondered if McCoy had ever even been with another man; the doctor certainly wasn't hesitating or clumsy about it. Jim was sure he was going to have stubble-burn in the morning along with the faint burn from the wind and rain, but he tilted his head back anyway, giving McCoy what he wanted. His hands slid down a little further and copped a feel of that tight ass, squeezing firmly. How far would McCoy go? Did he want to go?
There was a shock of lightning across the sky, and the thunder shook the rock around them. It made Jim shudder with the sheer power of it and he heard McCoy's breath catch at the sound echoing in the cave around them; the storm had to be right on top of them. McCoy's fingers scraped down Jim's back and grasped at his ass, bringing their bodies together as he murmured a noise against the roughened skin of his throat. He pulled at Jim's blue jeans, unbuttoning them, tugging until his fingers slid inside and curled around Jim's cock.
Well, that was how far McCoy wanted to go, then. Jim groaned low in the back of his throat and he scraped his nails against McCoy's back. "You're fucking hungry for it," he growled the words out, turned on by the doctor's aggression. "Anything you want, baby, and you'll have it." The affectionate term just fell from his lips noticed as he rocked forward into McCoy's calloused hand.
The words just seemed to spur the doctor on, urging him to push Jim into the wall, press against him as he found Jim's mouth again. This kiss was deeper, wetter, McCoy's free hand holding Jim's head steady as they moved against each other. "Need you," McCoy murmured against skin, groaning as his fingers loosened their grip on Jim's cock and slid further down. Cupping his balls, McCoy's fingers teased and touched as far back as he could, his body trying to keep Jim from losing his balance. "Need this."
Jim couldn't help the sound that left him, spreading his legs further apart and letting McCoy do what he would. He brought a hand around and felt with his thumb until he found the button of the fly, undoing it and the zip with a quick motion. He didn't bother wasting time, sliding his hand in and shivering because he touched raw heat; McCoy wasn't wearing anything beneath those jeans. "You'll have it." Jim moved his head to bite firmly on McCoy's collarbone, rocking again. "Gonna suck you off until I hear you growl my name again, then you're going to fuck me until I can barely sit tomorrow. How's that sound?" A low, rumbling, teasing tone to his voice that echoed quietly off the walls of the cave.
Thunder boomed around them as they rubbed against each other, fucking each other's hand. "Shit, Jim," McCoy moaned, holding onto Jim's cock like it belonged to him. He pulled at his own wet denim, kicking it down around his ankles. His eyes were closed, mouth slightly open as he breathed into Jim. He had a look like he might have been dreaming as he began pushing on Jim's head, forcing him downward. "...Fuck."
Jim took it in easy stride, kneeling down with only a bare groan at the loss of McCoy's hand around him. He distracted his cock from that loss by nosing into the one he held in his hand, rubbing his cheek along the length of it in a cat-like manner. "Gonna make you feel so good..." He took McCoy into his mouth, one long suck until he had a comfortable feel for the flesh pressing against the back of his throat. He could hear McCoy above him, breathing heavy and loud. The doctor braced himself against the rock with one outstretched arm, the other hand tangled in Jim's hair, and with a strangled groan began fucking Jim's mouth slow and deep. That groan made Jim's cock throb between his thighs, and he sucked that much harder before he pulled his head back.
He let his gaze drift up towards McCoy, watching the other man's face as Jim curled his tongue around the glans, taking a deep breath in on the scent of warmth, male, and McCoy. His tongue followed the natural path down a thick vein along the underside, down to where he could nose at the very base. McCoy was making noise again, not words, but Jim could understand them nonetheless - sounds of need and want and desire and yesfuckgodmore. The wind was picking up, storm blowing loud outside their cave but all they knew in the whole world at that moment was each other.
McCoy's knees were bending slightly, his entire body focused on the slide of his cock inside Jim's mouth, and he threw his head back, groaning. Both hands found Jim's head and McCoy pumped twice more before pulling back and out with a growl. He stood over Jim for a moment, his outline throwing shadows down making his face hard to see in the dark. McCoy grasped his cock in his hand and squeezed it a few times. "Take off your jeans."
Jim let out a shaking breath; that had been hot, hot enough that he would have let McCoy finish in his mouth. Still, that command... it wasn't one to be disobeyed. Doctor's orders. Jim twisted to pull off his wet jeans and let them drop to a sodden puddle of denim beside them, licking cock, stomach, chest, then neck as he stood up. "How..." he breathed it out as he moved up to McCoy's ear, "how do you want me?"
Up close, despite the darkness, Jim could see McCoy's eyes were blazing. The doctor's hands slid down on Jim's shoulders, down his arms, across the pectoral muscles of his chest, pinching at a hard nipple. The pinch made Jim gasp more loudly than he would have liked to admit. All of a sudden McCoy spoke. "Hands and knees," he murmured, hands moving back up Jim's chest to circle his throat, bring their faces together for another kiss. Instead of the slightly unsure, sort of fumbling man Jim had come to know over the last few days, this was someone completely different. Someone who took charge, who was in control of himself and the situation.
Jim panted when the kiss parted, staring into those wild eyes. He stretched once before he slid down to his knees, turning around and presenting himself with a hungry look over his shoulder. Almost immediately he felt fingertips on his back, pressing into his muscles, tracing the long vertebrae up the spine. They were soon followed by kisses, soft lips following the path the fingers had taken then back down, a darting tongue tracing a path down toward his ass. Jim could hear the doctor fiddling with something, then felt a smooth glide between his cheeks, stroking at his entrance, a cool fingertip pressing, then pushing inside him. Lube? Where had McCoy gotten that? Jim was honestly surprised by that, but equally a little thankful. It just felt good to feel McCoy start to open him up, almost being... gentle.
"Fuck yea..." Jim breathed out, head hanging down. The grind of his hips against McCoy's hand was a silent testimony to wanting more.
One finger became two, twisting slow, opening and stretching Jim almost methodically, but with care. He could hear McCoy's breathing throughout, reverberating off the walls, matching the pulse of the storm. Each breath was timed with the brushing feeling that Jim could visualize as McCoy was stroking himself, an image that made him groan, and the sudden press of the tip of McCoy's thick cock against his hole made a heavy breath follow. McCoy pushed into him with a soft grunt, stretching him out even further until Jim had to support himself better on his hands and lean back against it. Yes.
McCoy was fucking him slow. One hand rested on Jim's back, steadying himself as McCoy's hips pistoned back and forth, sliding deeper and deeper inside him with each stroke. A broad hand kneaded at Jim's muscular ass, and as Jim listened the breathing turned into panting. McCoy began fucking him harder, each thrust picking up speed and rhythm. He seemed to know exactly what he needed, or just needed it as badly as Jim did. McCoy leaned over Jim's body, covering it with his own as he pushed in harder, as far as he could go. His forehead pressed into Jim's shoulder, and Jim could feel McCoy's warm breath against the back of his neck with every rough stroke.
Then McCoy pulled back, pulled out, all the way from Jim. It brought on a sound that was definitely not a whimper, but before Jim could even turn his head around to see what was going on, there was a mouth by his ear. "Lay on your back," a shaky voice whispered. The voice sent a rolling shudder down Jim's spine, caressing every place that hands couldn't, as McCoy's honey drawl got deeper with his desire, thickening until it spread across him.
McCoy hooked an arm under Jim's knee as Jim turned over, who ignored the press of rocks into his spine, and arched up with a low gasp as McCoy pushed inside him again. McCoy's shaky moan was right by his ear as he pressed in even further, deep enough that Jim found himself grasping at anything on the ground, anything that would give him something to hold onto. His palms finally ended up splayed against the wall, keeping his head from hitting the wall.
When Jim opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at McCoy. The handsome face hung over his, dark eyes nearly black pits in the darkness of the cave. Their eyes locked as they fucked, staring into each other not like strangers, but something different. Something more...
McCoy was holding himself up with one arm, then on one elbow, keeping a fast pace. "Touch yourself," he whispered into Jim's ear. Jim quickly did just that, wrapping his fingers around his own aching cock and stroking himself. A moan bubbled out of him, asking McCoy for more without words. McCoy seemed to understand, as he pulled Jim higher onto his hips, found a new angle, and began pumping furiously. Jim arched into each thrust, eyes falling shut as he felt himself drawing close faster than he would have liked. His other hand abandoned the ground and came up to claw at McCoy's shoulder, leaving behind a pink scrape of nails on the wet skin, and he felt more than heard the bellow of a sound that left McCoy with the flare of pain.
Jim came harder than he remembered in a long while, the sound of it echoing loud off the stone walls until it pressed back against his ears. The heat of his release was a shock from the chill of the rain water drying on their skins, even a shock compared to the heat between their bodies. It smeared between his still stroking hand and his stomach, his body rippling down and against McCoy's. He wanted to feel it, hear the doctor growl into his ear as he came.
It didn't take long. A few more wild thrusts, fingers digging into Jim's skin so hard it would bruise, and McCoy shuddered. A loud cry, something that sounded torn from somewhere deep inside the older man, moaned into Jim's ear, and then there was nothing but the sound of their breathing and the fall of rain outside. A moment later McCoy stirred, life returning to him as if he suddenly realized how uncomfortable Jim must be, and he rolled over to one side to pull Jim closer onto him. They tucked in together perfectly, and McCoy's lips brushed Jim's forehead, cheeks, and mouth almost reverently before wrapping his arms tightly around Jim.
Jim was both completely sedated and wide awake. He usually chose not to sleep with his partners, chose to pull away while they slept and leave them for the morning, chose to break away clean and free from the awkward tendrils that entwined two people that became so intimate together. But McCoy? There was something in him couldn't do that right now, with McCoy falling asleep in the warmth of his body. The man was obviously desperately lonely in many senses, seen in every tender touch that two strangers who wanted some fun didn't give to each other. Even stranger to ouches. It wasn't like no one had ever tried it before, but there was something about McCoy...
He tucked his head in against McCoy's shoulder, closing his eyes. It was warmer there, anyway. It would let him think for a little while, even if he didn't want to.
After all, he'd be alone again tomorrow night, and so would McCoy.
McCoy didn't seem to be having any trouble sleeping, Jim grumbled in his own thoughts, evidenced by the gentle snores coming from his direction. Didn't make much sense, the affection that seemed to pour out of the bitter doctor after being so stand-offish. Didn't seem so distant now, the way McCoy was holding Jim like he would drown in the rain.
The storm began to ease up, though the rain kept falling with its own rhythm. An hour passed, maybe two- hard to tell in the dark and quiet, before McCoy stirred again and interrupted Jim's slow moving train of thought. Large hands were sliding up and down Jim's side, moving slow across his back, resting on his ass. Jim couldn't help the faint smirk on his lips as he felt a slight grind against his thigh. He flexed his body, pressing back into McCoy's hands, then lifted his head enough to murmur against McCoy's ear, "Mm... want more, Len? Gotta tell me what you want..." It was barely above a whisper, just quiet and urging while McCoy was coming out of his nap. The air around them was warm despite the rain, filled with the scent of the storm, the ozone of lightning, the smell of sex. Jim let his own hands feel their way along the doctor's body, across the muscles of a thigh, squeezing at the hip.
But McCoy didn't seem to be talking as much this time, his hands and legs and fingers speaking for him. Jim was right - McCoy wasn't just hungry, he was fucking starving for this sort of intimacy. He rolled Jim onto his back and slipped inside, Jim shuddering and closing his eyes as his body opened up easy for McCoy the second time around. There was an anguished groan from the man inside him, almost an apology as McCoy stroked him, long and slow and deep. McCoy buried his face in Jim's neck, wrapping his arms around him tight, like he wanted to keep Jim's back off the ground. They glided against each other, pushing and pulling in a slow rhythm that was very different from their earlier, hurried coupling. This was languid, kisses wet and tender, McCoy's hands roaming, holding onto Jim like a prized possession, something precious.
Then it stopped, McCoy pulling out again with a shudder. Jim took a wet breath and opened his eyes, watching McCoy roll off him and laying back to take Jim's place on the ground. The doctor reached for Jim, reached for his hands and guided Jim back on top of him. Jim didn't hesitate to straddle McCoy's thighs, almost amused at the doctor's need to get as much fucking done in as many positions as possible, before reaching down between them and guiding hard flesh back into him. Like this, Jim could bend down over McCoy and mouth across his neck, feeling the fluttering pulse against his tongue. The taste of rain and sweat was a sweet-salt mix in his mouth, urging him to bite down and leave a mark that would last a few days on the good doctor's skin while Starfleet accepted him.
Jim rocked slowly, his body tucked up so each motion was no more than a few inches in either direction. It was easy to lean on his hands, staring down to McCoy's face. Those dark eyes were staring at him, through him, until Jim wanted to ask Do I know you? of the man below him. Why this person, out of so many others from his past? Why would it be this random man from a bar-fight that felt less like a stranger and more like a friend? Whatever it was, it had a hold of both of them, and for the time being it wasn't letting go.
And McCoy wasn't letting go of Jim. Grasping at Jim's hips, he held on, letting Jim ride him, his mouth open as he looked up into Jim's eyes. Fingers slipped up to touch Jim's face again, feather-light on his cheeks, his thumb pulling lightly on Jim's bottom lip before reaching his head up to kiss him. When McCoy came, his eyes fluttered closed and he cried out Jim's name. Jim slowed his movements to a crawl, then stopped, so he could watch every second of it. It urged on the tightness in his own body, enough that he switched to balance on one hand while his freed hand wrapped around himself. He began to rock again, feeling the slick pull of McCoy's cock in him that set every nerve on fire. It matched the faster movement of his hand, half leaning forward as he tried to--
It surprised him when suddenly McCoy's hand slapped his own away. Jim's eyes flashed back open and he looked at the doctor in confusion. McCoy just gave a tired smirk and started to nudge Jim over until their position were once again reversed. Jim groaned when McCoy pulled out of him, body aching with the loss when it was so close, but McCoy more than made up for it. His mouth was suddenly there, heat and friction and wetness against flesh which pulled an almost startled sound of need out of Jim. Jim's head tilted back against the stone, hips coming up. McCoy pressed one hand down on Jim's hips in silent warning, and the other curled two long fingers into Jim's body and immediately went in deep into the opened ring of muscle.
When those fingertips found that spot inside of him, Jim groaned in his chest and rocked into it, feeling McCoy take his cock deep in his throat. The doctor was constantly surprising him, and this was one whole new surprise as McCoy proved he knew what he was doing, the curving of tongue and the tightness of cheeks. It didn't take much more with the dual pleasure-pressure in and on his body before Jim sucked in a breath and let it out as a groan as he came, toes curling almost to the point of pain until it released from his muscles all at once until his eyes shut and he sunk down into the ground.
Jim's mind came around later, focusing from the warmth of the darkness behind his lids to the reality around him. He was pressed up against McCoy, their legs tangled together, he could still hear the faint pattering of rain in the distance, and the darkness was almost total. He couldn't see anything, they'd have to do something about that later, but he was too content to move. He wondered if McCoy was even awake; his breathing was steady and smooth. Jim brought a hand up so he could feel across the other man's chest, lifting to trace a mindless shape on skin.
There was a quiet grunt, answering Jim's wondering about McCoy being awake. Several questions, comments, answers to silent ponderings came through Jim's head but he went with the question that seemed the easiest of them and maybe the only one he could vocalize. "So, how many times have you done this before?" Maybe not the smoothest choice of question ever.
Another little grunt, this one more like a chuckle. "How many times have I had sex?" McCoy pulled Jim closer, nuzzling into his hair. "Damn, don't tell me it was so bad you have to ask." The tone of his voice betrayed the fact that he knew Jim had enjoyed himself immensely.
Jim just gave a little snort, letting McCoy move him. "Ha ha, so funny," he dead panned, but his voice switched to sarcasm a second later, "I mean, with a guy. Said you divorced and had a kid, I assumed it was from a woman. You know, considering you called her 'wife' and 'mother'."
It was a moment before McCoy answered. "Yeah, she was a woman, the one I was married to." Jim felt McCoy lift his head and could only imagine the doctor looking down at him as if they could see each other. McCoy's eyes would be sort of dancing with a strange light, that same one he had seen a few times over the course of the trip. "You want to know about other people? I mean, yeah, I been with a few guys before. Been a while, but..." He kissed Jim's forehead. "You had fun, right?" McCoy asked, just a tinge of worry creeping into his voice.
"Fuck yea I did," Jim smirked, trying to wipe that worry clean. "Doctors know what they're doing." It was just a light tease.
But McCoy was shaking his head, felt more than seen. "You... you are amazing," he told him, his voice a whisper as he kissed the words into Jim's skin. McCoy was loose and relaxed in a way he hadn't been the entire time they'd known each other. Naked and slightly chilled, wet clothes all over the mine opening, McCoy seemed like he was having the time of his life.
"I know I am," Jim laughed, glad to hear that peace in McCoy's voice as he stretched out against McCoy. The relaxation, the exhaustion, and the contentment were strangely welcomed feelings. He could feel the rumble of laughter in McCoy's chest, strong arms hugging him again, a hand in his hair. Who knew the gruff doctor was so affectionate? None of this made sense.
"You okay, Jim?" McCoy asked, turning on his side. "You sore or anything?" The concern came through clear.
Jim just shook his head, "I'm fine. Don't worry about it." The concern almost made him nervous, enough to close his eyes to retreat to the darkness there instead of the darkness of the cave. Concern was oddly unfamiliar, unsettling. No one treated him like that.
"How 'bout hungry?" McCoy's hand fell from his head to cradle Jim's neck, rubbing it tenderly. "Want something to eat?"
"...Mm mm," a sound of disagreement because Jim was ready to go back to sleep. The hand felt good...
McCoy laughed again. "Alright," he murmured, as if understanding. McCoy rolled over a little and Jim could hear him fumbling in the direction of their bags. Jim realized McCoy must have found one of the thin blankets from Jim's saddle bag because when McCoy rolled back, he covered them both in the familiar material. "...g'night you." Jim just closed his eyes with a little smirk. McCoy was happy, which for now, made him happy.
Authors: salvaged_pride and sullacat
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing/Characters: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: R for language and sexual situations
Summary: In honor of the one year anniversary of the movie, an AU - What if Leonard McCoy had been at the bar that night? Two men, a cycle, and a trip that changes their lives. 8246 words -- Look for future chapters every other day.
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Distance Traveled:
When Jim woke up the next morning, they were still pressed up to each other, McCoy's arms wrapped around him. He didn't feel the urge to move or even fully waken yet, so he didn't even bother. Jim let himself drift where he was laying, vaguely aware of his surroundings and the surrounding heat. There was a small feeling of motion somewhere directly behind him, a repetitive motion by his thigh. Once aware of it, Jim started to pull his sleepy mind to the surface to focus on it, but before he could do so he felt McCoy get up out of the bed. With his source of warmth leaving, Jim turned over and nosed into the empty spot unconsciously in order to go back to sleep.
It seemed his body had other ideas in mind though. Jim groaned thickly as his body decided it wanted to fuck. It was barely even a thought to reach down and wrap his fingers around himself, stroking himself as he stayed comfortable in the warm spot where two bodies had spent the night. There was no conscious thought about the shower he could hear in the background, or the knowledge that McCoy had taken a shower last night and shouldn't have needed one, but there must have been some unconscious thought about it as he realized he was thinking about that other body that had left. An image of McCoy walking out of the shower with just a towel around his hips, the towel falling to the ground--
Jim gave a little gasp as he came, fingers curling to catch the mess. It felt like being fourteen again and discovering just how un-fun constant morning wood was, stroking one out before he went down to breakfast. He turned over in the bed, peering blearily around in the sunlight coming in through the windows, until he spotted a tissue dispenser. He cleaned himself up before sitting up and throwing the mess into the waste bin. There he sat, elbows tucked on his thighs and slumped over, body content in its used pleasure and the last drifts of sleep.
A small measure of guilt, something James T. Kirk wasn't particularly used to feeling, went through him as he realized that he had been fantasizing about McCoy. McCoy hadn't shown a lick of interest in him like that. Fuck the guy was just divorced, from a woman. Not that it really meant anything, it being from a woman, but the divorce had to make things hard. Jim knew himself to be no small flirt, but he wasn't an asshole about it. If someone showed an active dislike to his flirting, showed no interest in return, he would cut it out. Equally, he knew the smallest sign of interest would keep him going at it long after most men had given up. There'd been plenty of that in the past, working out sometimes and other times... usually ending in his face hurting from a punch or slap.
Jim forced himself out of the warm bed and started to get dressed, eyeing the dusty clothing from yesterday. He took a minute to go outside of the motel, glad they weren't facing the parking lot because he didn't need to be shocking anyone at this hour with his nakedness, and shook the clothing hard to get rid of some of the dust. He went back inside, tugging on the clothing, before he repeated the dusting with McCoy's clothing. He finished just in time, judging from the way the freshly-showered man was sitting on the bed when Jim got back in the room. Wearing his towel again, McCoy watched Jim as he walked back into the room, his eyebrow arched. "Didn't think to wash something last night," he shook his head at his travel bag, full of dirty clothes. "Gonna have to take care of that tonight, I suppose," he added, giving Jim a quiet 'thanks' as he took the jeans from him.
Jim just gave a small grin. "You probably don't want to know how I've been washing my clothes for years. We'll see if we can find someplace for you to do it." Soap, usually the bar he kept in his saddle bag, and whatever water he could get his hands on be it a sink, creek, bathtub...
If McCoy was embarrassed by anything that happened that night (hell, if he even remembered), he wasn't showing it. "I won't break if I gotta wash my clothes in a river," he told him. "You got the route picked out for today?" he asked, standing and walking toward his travel bag. Turning his back to Jim, he dropped his towel and pulled the jeans on right over his naked form.
Jim totally checked out that ass.
Pulling on a slightly wrinkled shirt from his bag, McCoy ran a hand through his hair, straightening it out best he could. "We could stop somewhere later and snack on our supplies instead of eating breakfast. Might save a few bucks."
Jim nodded with McCoy's suggestion, scratching his jawline. "We have enough to get us through breakfast and a little more beyond that. Yea, I have a route planned out. We need to put a lot of miles behind us today, so we should get going." Ignoring the fact he wanted to do several inappropriate things to McCoy in this nice clean hotel room.
"I'm ready when you are," McCoy answered with a grin. Packing up quickly, he was ready to go about the same time Jim was, and soon they were on the road, heading west.
They made it about three hours until McCoy begged to stop for some coffee. Jim teased him for it, but pulled off the road at the next town they came across to suffer McCoy's addiction. They munched on some food bars from their packs and switched off, McCoy taking a longer shift at driving today. Clouds started rolling in, giving them a break from the brutal heat of the day before, and making the afternoon ride easier without the glare. They passed through Colorado and made it into Utah, Jim's route taking them through trees and forests towards Salt Lake City.
It was a mix of the rapidly fading food bars in Jim's stomach and the goofy grin he got on his face when he read the name of the town that encouraged him to stop for lunch. They pulled into a small cafe, stretching their legs as they headed inside and found a booth by the window where they could keep an eye on the cycle. McCoy ordered the burger special and went to the bathroom first. The waitress was just bringing them two glasses of water by the time Jim emerged, dust and grime washed off his hands and face.
McCoy was watching him. "So, what's so funny?" he asked, taking a sip from his glass. "You look like the cat that swallowed the canary."
"Spanish Fork."
"...What?"
"Spanish. Fork."
McCoy's face displayed pure confusion. "What the hell you talking about?" he asked, lowering his voice at the obscenity. "Forks?"
Jim picked up the little dessert menu still on the table and held it an inch in front of McCoy's face so the name of the cafe, which had the name of the town in its logo, was large and very visible. "The name of the town. It's Spanish Fork."
"And?" McCoy grinned a little. "I must be missing the joke - what's so funny?"
He put the menu down, "Come on! It's called Spanish Fork. What the hell kind of name is that? All I can see in my head is a bunch of Spanish people dancing around with forks in their hand when I hear that. But why Spanish Fork? Maybe it was a derogatory name hundreds of years ago and just ended up sticking." Jim rambled on, tapping a finger on the menu.
McCoy arched his eyebrow. Damn, how could one man be so expressive with one eyebrow. "I dunno, Jim, maybe there was a fork in road?" he smirked. "And why's it derogatory? This all used to be Spanish land, right? We had a creek back home called Apalachee Creek. That wasn't derogatory."
Jim just shrugged to that, "Well Spanish people wouldn't call it Spanish Fork. They would call it something like Fork. It had to be people, not-Spanish people, that decided on Spanish Fork."
McCoy rolled his eyes, accepting the plate from the waitress delivering their food. "No, dipshit," he said, popping a fry in his mouth. "They woulda called it el tenedor." Grinning cheekily, he tossed a second fry in after it.
It took Jim a few moments, staring at McCoy in confusion as he tried to place it. He knew it was Spanish but what? Then, all at once, he got it. His grin grew out of the confused expression and he started laughing. "You fucking smart ass old man!" Jim crowed out as tears formed at the edges of eyes, drawing the attention of several people in the cafe who were now looking at him like he had lost his mind.
McCoy just grinned back, waggling his fork at Jim before dropping it by his plate and digging into his burger. He ate like a starving man, inhaling the food in a couple of bites. "Nah, just had a roommate who knew the language. Taught me some words. How come being outside makes me so hungry?" he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Probably 'cause you're used to being stuck in a lab or bay all day!" Jim teased, digging into his own burger. He couldn't put it away like McCoy, but he actually took a few extra seconds to enjoy it.
"Maybe," McCoy nodded, considering Jim's words. Reaching over his plate, he snagged the dessert menu and started looking over it. His eyes danced a little.
"Oh?" Jim wondered what had caught McCoy's eye. He leaned over, peering. Oh. Lemon Meringue Pie. "YES," Jim breathed out. McCoy grinned back and waved the waitress over, ordering a slice with two forks.
When it arrived, McCoy took a bite and sighed, closing his eyes as he ate. "This is delicious," he said, mouth full of pie. "Here, have some," he added, pushing the plate toward Jim.
Jim picked up his fork and dug into the edge of the pie, groaning as he got a taste of fluff white meringue. It was perfect, light and creamy on his tongue. McCoy stopped mid-bite, watching Jim's face before finishing his forkful. Jim opened his eyes just in time to catch an odd look on McCoy's face, something subtle in the raised eyebrow and the parted lips. He looked down at the creamy white on his fork, raised his own brows, and smirked just a little. Hmm...
Jim brought the fork back up to his mouth, giving the tines a long lick. McCoy was still watching Jim, eyes following that fork until it left Jim's mouth. "You like it?" the doctor asked, his face flushing a little.
That flush told Jim more than McCoy probably wanted to know. So there was some interest there? Oh ho ho... Jim tucked his head down and smiled to himself. "Sure do." The tip of his tongue curled around the tip of a tine, then he slid the fork back into the pie for another bite. McCoy countered by taking his own bite, their eyes locked. Jim could damn well play that game if McCoy was up to it.
Before long the pie was gone, both of their forks very clean, and it was time to head out back on the road.
Jim might have taken a little advantage of McCoy after that display in the cafe as McCoy drove. He didn't do anything, not at first, but after about an hour, his fingers strayed from where they had been resting to rub the edge of his thumb against McCoy's stomach. Just testing the waters, as it were. When there was no reaction, good or bad, Jim tried something else instead. His hands smoothed down along McCoy's hips, and along the outside of his thighs. McCoy couldn't ignore it this time, the little smirk on his face showing that he at least knew something was going on. "What are you doin'?" he asked, leaning back a little so he could speak into Jim's ear.
"...feeling you out," Jim whispered back, keeping his voice quiet and low but just loud enough to be heard over wind and engine. He squeezed there at the thighs, getting a little bolder by curling his fingers over the tops of them.
"And how does it feel?" McCoy asked, surprising Jim by not pulling back or away. The doctor just seemed sort of amused by it all.
"Good," Jim sounded just as amused, "really, really good." He flatted his palms along the top, smoothing down towards the knees as far as he could reach.
At that McCoy did stiffen a little, the cycle weaving then straightening back on the road. "You're gonna get us killed, kid," he answered with a little grin Jim could see out of the corner of his eye, his head very close to Jim's as they sped faster. "Wanna make it there in one piece."
Fuck, McCoy was responding to it! Jim felt a shiver go through him and he turned his hands so his fingers curved around the inner thighs and squeezed. "You'll just have to concentrate on the driving," he said quietly. What the hell was it about the doctor that made him want to do every dirty fucking thing he could to the man... while at the same time, he wanted to feel McCoy nice and slow, giving it everything he had...
All of a sudden a clap of thunder could be heard off to the right, and the wind started to pick up. A light rain began falling and McCoy's face turned from curious to worried. "Hey Jim," he called out in a louder voice, "you wanna drive for while? I'm not sure I'm the one who should be behind the wheel right now if it's going to start rainin'." They had to keep going though, if they were going to make their goal. Otherwise, there was no way they'd make it into San Fransisco by tomorrow afternoon.
This was the last thing they needed. Jim cursed nature's choice of timing and nodded. "Pull over." It was a fast change around before Jim pulled the cycle back onto the road. Jim had driven in weather like this, but it was frustrating. He had to slow down quite a bit as the wind brought heavy rain with it, and within minutes the both of them were soaked straight down to the bone. Eventually, as the rain and wind just got worse with each passing mile, he had to call back to McCoy to get an extra shirt out of his saddlebag which he wrapped around his head to keep down the sting. Dammit they were in Nevada, why was it raining like this? If it got any worse, they'd have to stop. Jim determinedly stared ahead with narrowed eyes, fingers tight on the handlebars.
He had made a promise to get McCoy to San Francisco in three days, so he would.
Sitting in the back, McCoy had to lean forward as much as he could to help protect himself and Jim from the rain. McCoy had wrapped his arms around Jim and held on, keeping the weight on the bike as centered as possible as they rode on in the blackening skies. They drove another two hours in this mess before things really began getting bad, the thunder crashing overhead and McCoy holding on tighter and tighter with each turn the bike made. Jim could feel McCoy's hands unconsciously grabbing at his shirt each time they leaned into a turn or the tires on the cycle missed their grip. He was nervous, Jim could tell, breathing and faster now. He swore he could feel McCoy's heartbeat pounding against his back. "You okay?" he heard the doctor ask, mouth in his ear.
If Jim hadn't been working on keeping them on the road so hard, it would have been erotic. Instead, he was using every trick he knew to make sure they stayed upright against the wind, but he was losing this game. The thunderstorm was getting rapidly worse and he had already had to pull at least one desperate save on the bike. "We need to get off the road!" he called back, almost angry at himself because nature was defeating him. His mind was trying to calculate how far they had gotten, if they would even make it there in time...
Jim stared at the evergreens along side of the small highway and hissed through his teeth. They were more dangerous because of the lightning, but they had to get out of the rain. He slowed down before turning off into the woods. McCoy was off the bike as soon as Jim hit the brakes, moving to the other side to help Jim roll the cycle under the trees. At least one small favor, Jim could feel the rain slacken as soon as they got underneath the entwining branches above. "Hey, over there!" he heard McCoy call out. Through squinted eyes against the pouring rain, he could see McCoy pointing at what looked like an overhang in the rocks in front of them.
Getting closer, Jim could make out that it was more that just an overhang or a hole in the rock, it was a cave. When they got close enough, Jim could make out a few warning signs that told him exactly what the cave was - an abandoned mine shaft. They managed to get themselves and the cycle inside just as another bolt of lightning blazed across the sky. McCoy was breathing hard, one hand holding onto the side of the cave as he stared outside at the torrents coming down. With wet hair stuck to his face, McCoy turned to Jim, worry on his face. "You okay?" he asked, stepping close to Jim, too close, looking all over his face like that first night when he'd examined him.
"I'm fine, promise." Jim undid the material from around his head, feeling a stinging sensation from around his eyes and cheeks where the material hadn't covered. He imagined it was a bright pink by now. He looked around the entrance to the small mine before looking back to McCoy with a small grin. "Well, we made it." His heart was still racing from the ride, and McCoy was as wet as he felt and breathing hard. Jim reached out and squeezed McCoy's shoulder. "Just feel like a drowned rat."
But it seemed McCoy wasn't done with Jim, not yet. One hand reached out to Jim's face, lifting his chin and tilting it toward the dim light from outside the mine aided by the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the cave. From the look on his face, he wasn't happy about the way Jim's skin looked. "Dammit Jim," he murmured, his thumb pushing a piece of hair off Jim's cheek, his eyes catching Jim's every few moments. All of a sudden McCoy let go and walked off. "Sit down," he growled and headed over to the bike to dig through his bag.
Thus Jim sat down, blinking. He touched his cheek where McCoy had brushed it, a strange tingling sensation staying behind. Had to be from the light wind burn. He watched McCoy digging, and frowned as he sat dripping onto the cave floor. It was warm inside the protecting rock, and he wanted to strip down and dry himself off with a tee shirt or something from his bag. There was no way their clothing was drying out over night, but at least, with a glance around, they could put their clothing to stop dripping. With that, listening to McCoy talking to himself, Jim started to pull off his jacket and shirt.
When McCoy turned around, he stared at Jim for a moment before moving toward him. He knelt on the ground next to Jim, uncapping a small tube. "Hold still," he growled quietly, sounding angry but the look on his face was anything but, a tangle of emotions that McCoy seemed unable to control. Slowly he applied the ointment to Jim's skin. "Nothing here that'll react with you," he added, very quiet as he smoothed the cream around the irritated skin around Jim's eyes. Jim stayed silent, eyes staying open as he watched McCoy from that close distance. McCoy was a strange one, incredibly gruff and tender at the same time. Like he was angry Jim had gotten hurt at all, however minor, and was determined to make it better.
The skin started to feel cooler, which Jim took to mean it was working. When McCoy was done, his hand dropping away, Jim kept watching him. Tomorrow, though he was pretty sure later than expected, he'd be dropping McCoy off at the Starfleet Academy. McCoy would go and do great things, because the doctor was a damn genius. Jim wouldn't see him again. He wasn't sure why that brought a strange twisting feeling in his stomach; McCoy was still a stranger to him.
Jim reached out, almost touching McCoy, before letting it drop. "...So tomorrow's it," he said roughly, but there was a thankfulness for the doctor's skill in his tone.
"Yeah," McCoy answered, sounding more like the stand-offish stranger he'd been two days ago than the man who has just been holding Jim's face in his hands. Standing up, McCoy headed toward the far side of the mine shaft, pacing a little and burning off nervous energy. A moment later he shook his head, as if pulling himself out of some dark and stormy thoughts. He pulled his shirt off, wringing it out. If Jim was any judge, it looked like McCoy wanted to talk, but didn't know how. "I'm sorry 'bout all this," McCoy finally blurted out, just as Jim was about to say something. "Didn't mean to cause this sorta trouble."
Which just made Jim... laugh. He leaned back against the cool wall of the rock, "You don't think I've never been caught before in a storm? Hell, this is easier than being trapped in a snow storm. It isn't trouble, it really isn't. In fact... I've been enjoying myself over the last few days. Only thing that's bothering me is this," Jim gestured to the sheeting rain outside, "means our chances of making it by tomorrow afternoon are shot." He felt a little angry about that whole situation, that they had tried and were failing. "Besides, I don't normally have a doctor taking care of me for every stupid thing I do." A silent thank you road the ends of Jim's words.
It was getting darker outside rapidly, another clap of thunder punctuating Jim's remarks, but Jim could see McCoy was shaking his head. "Taking care of you?" McCoy repeated, incredulous. "You've trekked some total stranger half way across the country on your cycle for no other reason than you're a damned good guy. I'm so fuckin' busted I can't afford a stupid shuttle ticket, even I could get my ass on one of those death traps." He was pacing again, hands gesturing wildly. "Fuck, Jim, I don't even care 'bout making it on time, I just want to get you somewhere where you won't have to watch my worthless ass anymore."
"...But you have a nice ass, why would I want to stop watching it?" The words just slipped out before Jim could put a mental filter on them. He continued on regardless. "I told you, I've been enjoying myself. I'm getting somewhere new. There's a lot I can do in California." Jim still wondered how someone so afraid of space was going to do in Starfleet. Hopefully they would put McCoy in a lab, in a medical clinic, doing what he should do.
But McCoy still wasn't having any of it. The little bit of evening light was dying with each minute, but the look of anger and concern on his face was right out there for Jim to see. Still breathing hard, he walked over to where Jim was standing and got close again, too close, almost pressing Jim back into the rock. They stood there staring at each other, wet and shirtless, and just when it looked like nothing was going to happen, McCoy touched Jim's chin, letting out a small breath as he leaned in, closed his eyes, and pressed their mouths together.
It was far from the first time Jim had kissed someone, equally as far from the first time someone had kissed him, but it was the first time someone had taken him by such surprise with a kiss. Jim was keenly aware of every place their bodies touched chestlipschinthighs. It was only instinct to bring his hands up, sliding them against wet skin until they met at the small of McCoy's back. Jim's eyes fell shut and he kissed back, taking control of the almost frantic kiss. McCoy's hands were holding Jim's head, cradling it carefully despite the roughness of the kiss, the scratchy feeling of his stubble against Jim's skin almost painful.
Another flash of lightning lit up the cave and they could see each other's faces for just a split second, looking at each other with hungry looks until the thunder shook again. They jumped a little, pulling each other closer, crashing their mouths together again almost desperately. McCoy groaned, his hands sliding into Jim's hair, pulling it back and exposing his neck as his mouth moved down and began biting at Jim's throat.
Fuck, McCoy was going at him like a man hungry for it. Jim wondered just how long it had been, if McCoy had been getting any from his wife long before the divorce. He wondered if McCoy had ever even been with another man; the doctor certainly wasn't hesitating or clumsy about it. Jim was sure he was going to have stubble-burn in the morning along with the faint burn from the wind and rain, but he tilted his head back anyway, giving McCoy what he wanted. His hands slid down a little further and copped a feel of that tight ass, squeezing firmly. How far would McCoy go? Did he want to go?
There was a shock of lightning across the sky, and the thunder shook the rock around them. It made Jim shudder with the sheer power of it and he heard McCoy's breath catch at the sound echoing in the cave around them; the storm had to be right on top of them. McCoy's fingers scraped down Jim's back and grasped at his ass, bringing their bodies together as he murmured a noise against the roughened skin of his throat. He pulled at Jim's blue jeans, unbuttoning them, tugging until his fingers slid inside and curled around Jim's cock.
Well, that was how far McCoy wanted to go, then. Jim groaned low in the back of his throat and he scraped his nails against McCoy's back. "You're fucking hungry for it," he growled the words out, turned on by the doctor's aggression. "Anything you want, baby, and you'll have it." The affectionate term just fell from his lips noticed as he rocked forward into McCoy's calloused hand.
The words just seemed to spur the doctor on, urging him to push Jim into the wall, press against him as he found Jim's mouth again. This kiss was deeper, wetter, McCoy's free hand holding Jim's head steady as they moved against each other. "Need you," McCoy murmured against skin, groaning as his fingers loosened their grip on Jim's cock and slid further down. Cupping his balls, McCoy's fingers teased and touched as far back as he could, his body trying to keep Jim from losing his balance. "Need this."
Jim couldn't help the sound that left him, spreading his legs further apart and letting McCoy do what he would. He brought a hand around and felt with his thumb until he found the button of the fly, undoing it and the zip with a quick motion. He didn't bother wasting time, sliding his hand in and shivering because he touched raw heat; McCoy wasn't wearing anything beneath those jeans. "You'll have it." Jim moved his head to bite firmly on McCoy's collarbone, rocking again. "Gonna suck you off until I hear you growl my name again, then you're going to fuck me until I can barely sit tomorrow. How's that sound?" A low, rumbling, teasing tone to his voice that echoed quietly off the walls of the cave.
Thunder boomed around them as they rubbed against each other, fucking each other's hand. "Shit, Jim," McCoy moaned, holding onto Jim's cock like it belonged to him. He pulled at his own wet denim, kicking it down around his ankles. His eyes were closed, mouth slightly open as he breathed into Jim. He had a look like he might have been dreaming as he began pushing on Jim's head, forcing him downward. "...Fuck."
Jim took it in easy stride, kneeling down with only a bare groan at the loss of McCoy's hand around him. He distracted his cock from that loss by nosing into the one he held in his hand, rubbing his cheek along the length of it in a cat-like manner. "Gonna make you feel so good..." He took McCoy into his mouth, one long suck until he had a comfortable feel for the flesh pressing against the back of his throat. He could hear McCoy above him, breathing heavy and loud. The doctor braced himself against the rock with one outstretched arm, the other hand tangled in Jim's hair, and with a strangled groan began fucking Jim's mouth slow and deep. That groan made Jim's cock throb between his thighs, and he sucked that much harder before he pulled his head back.
He let his gaze drift up towards McCoy, watching the other man's face as Jim curled his tongue around the glans, taking a deep breath in on the scent of warmth, male, and McCoy. His tongue followed the natural path down a thick vein along the underside, down to where he could nose at the very base. McCoy was making noise again, not words, but Jim could understand them nonetheless - sounds of need and want and desire and yesfuckgodmore. The wind was picking up, storm blowing loud outside their cave but all they knew in the whole world at that moment was each other.
McCoy's knees were bending slightly, his entire body focused on the slide of his cock inside Jim's mouth, and he threw his head back, groaning. Both hands found Jim's head and McCoy pumped twice more before pulling back and out with a growl. He stood over Jim for a moment, his outline throwing shadows down making his face hard to see in the dark. McCoy grasped his cock in his hand and squeezed it a few times. "Take off your jeans."
Jim let out a shaking breath; that had been hot, hot enough that he would have let McCoy finish in his mouth. Still, that command... it wasn't one to be disobeyed. Doctor's orders. Jim twisted to pull off his wet jeans and let them drop to a sodden puddle of denim beside them, licking cock, stomach, chest, then neck as he stood up. "How..." he breathed it out as he moved up to McCoy's ear, "how do you want me?"
Up close, despite the darkness, Jim could see McCoy's eyes were blazing. The doctor's hands slid down on Jim's shoulders, down his arms, across the pectoral muscles of his chest, pinching at a hard nipple. The pinch made Jim gasp more loudly than he would have liked to admit. All of a sudden McCoy spoke. "Hands and knees," he murmured, hands moving back up Jim's chest to circle his throat, bring their faces together for another kiss. Instead of the slightly unsure, sort of fumbling man Jim had come to know over the last few days, this was someone completely different. Someone who took charge, who was in control of himself and the situation.
Jim panted when the kiss parted, staring into those wild eyes. He stretched once before he slid down to his knees, turning around and presenting himself with a hungry look over his shoulder. Almost immediately he felt fingertips on his back, pressing into his muscles, tracing the long vertebrae up the spine. They were soon followed by kisses, soft lips following the path the fingers had taken then back down, a darting tongue tracing a path down toward his ass. Jim could hear the doctor fiddling with something, then felt a smooth glide between his cheeks, stroking at his entrance, a cool fingertip pressing, then pushing inside him. Lube? Where had McCoy gotten that? Jim was honestly surprised by that, but equally a little thankful. It just felt good to feel McCoy start to open him up, almost being... gentle.
"Fuck yea..." Jim breathed out, head hanging down. The grind of his hips against McCoy's hand was a silent testimony to wanting more.
One finger became two, twisting slow, opening and stretching Jim almost methodically, but with care. He could hear McCoy's breathing throughout, reverberating off the walls, matching the pulse of the storm. Each breath was timed with the brushing feeling that Jim could visualize as McCoy was stroking himself, an image that made him groan, and the sudden press of the tip of McCoy's thick cock against his hole made a heavy breath follow. McCoy pushed into him with a soft grunt, stretching him out even further until Jim had to support himself better on his hands and lean back against it. Yes.
McCoy was fucking him slow. One hand rested on Jim's back, steadying himself as McCoy's hips pistoned back and forth, sliding deeper and deeper inside him with each stroke. A broad hand kneaded at Jim's muscular ass, and as Jim listened the breathing turned into panting. McCoy began fucking him harder, each thrust picking up speed and rhythm. He seemed to know exactly what he needed, or just needed it as badly as Jim did. McCoy leaned over Jim's body, covering it with his own as he pushed in harder, as far as he could go. His forehead pressed into Jim's shoulder, and Jim could feel McCoy's warm breath against the back of his neck with every rough stroke.
Then McCoy pulled back, pulled out, all the way from Jim. It brought on a sound that was definitely not a whimper, but before Jim could even turn his head around to see what was going on, there was a mouth by his ear. "Lay on your back," a shaky voice whispered. The voice sent a rolling shudder down Jim's spine, caressing every place that hands couldn't, as McCoy's honey drawl got deeper with his desire, thickening until it spread across him.
McCoy hooked an arm under Jim's knee as Jim turned over, who ignored the press of rocks into his spine, and arched up with a low gasp as McCoy pushed inside him again. McCoy's shaky moan was right by his ear as he pressed in even further, deep enough that Jim found himself grasping at anything on the ground, anything that would give him something to hold onto. His palms finally ended up splayed against the wall, keeping his head from hitting the wall.
When Jim opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at McCoy. The handsome face hung over his, dark eyes nearly black pits in the darkness of the cave. Their eyes locked as they fucked, staring into each other not like strangers, but something different. Something more...
McCoy was holding himself up with one arm, then on one elbow, keeping a fast pace. "Touch yourself," he whispered into Jim's ear. Jim quickly did just that, wrapping his fingers around his own aching cock and stroking himself. A moan bubbled out of him, asking McCoy for more without words. McCoy seemed to understand, as he pulled Jim higher onto his hips, found a new angle, and began pumping furiously. Jim arched into each thrust, eyes falling shut as he felt himself drawing close faster than he would have liked. His other hand abandoned the ground and came up to claw at McCoy's shoulder, leaving behind a pink scrape of nails on the wet skin, and he felt more than heard the bellow of a sound that left McCoy with the flare of pain.
Jim came harder than he remembered in a long while, the sound of it echoing loud off the stone walls until it pressed back against his ears. The heat of his release was a shock from the chill of the rain water drying on their skins, even a shock compared to the heat between their bodies. It smeared between his still stroking hand and his stomach, his body rippling down and against McCoy's. He wanted to feel it, hear the doctor growl into his ear as he came.
It didn't take long. A few more wild thrusts, fingers digging into Jim's skin so hard it would bruise, and McCoy shuddered. A loud cry, something that sounded torn from somewhere deep inside the older man, moaned into Jim's ear, and then there was nothing but the sound of their breathing and the fall of rain outside. A moment later McCoy stirred, life returning to him as if he suddenly realized how uncomfortable Jim must be, and he rolled over to one side to pull Jim closer onto him. They tucked in together perfectly, and McCoy's lips brushed Jim's forehead, cheeks, and mouth almost reverently before wrapping his arms tightly around Jim.
Jim was both completely sedated and wide awake. He usually chose not to sleep with his partners, chose to pull away while they slept and leave them for the morning, chose to break away clean and free from the awkward tendrils that entwined two people that became so intimate together. But McCoy? There was something in him couldn't do that right now, with McCoy falling asleep in the warmth of his body. The man was obviously desperately lonely in many senses, seen in every tender touch that two strangers who wanted some fun didn't give to each other. Even stranger to ouches. It wasn't like no one had ever tried it before, but there was something about McCoy...
He tucked his head in against McCoy's shoulder, closing his eyes. It was warmer there, anyway. It would let him think for a little while, even if he didn't want to.
After all, he'd be alone again tomorrow night, and so would McCoy.
McCoy didn't seem to be having any trouble sleeping, Jim grumbled in his own thoughts, evidenced by the gentle snores coming from his direction. Didn't make much sense, the affection that seemed to pour out of the bitter doctor after being so stand-offish. Didn't seem so distant now, the way McCoy was holding Jim like he would drown in the rain.
The storm began to ease up, though the rain kept falling with its own rhythm. An hour passed, maybe two- hard to tell in the dark and quiet, before McCoy stirred again and interrupted Jim's slow moving train of thought. Large hands were sliding up and down Jim's side, moving slow across his back, resting on his ass. Jim couldn't help the faint smirk on his lips as he felt a slight grind against his thigh. He flexed his body, pressing back into McCoy's hands, then lifted his head enough to murmur against McCoy's ear, "Mm... want more, Len? Gotta tell me what you want..." It was barely above a whisper, just quiet and urging while McCoy was coming out of his nap. The air around them was warm despite the rain, filled with the scent of the storm, the ozone of lightning, the smell of sex. Jim let his own hands feel their way along the doctor's body, across the muscles of a thigh, squeezing at the hip.
But McCoy didn't seem to be talking as much this time, his hands and legs and fingers speaking for him. Jim was right - McCoy wasn't just hungry, he was fucking starving for this sort of intimacy. He rolled Jim onto his back and slipped inside, Jim shuddering and closing his eyes as his body opened up easy for McCoy the second time around. There was an anguished groan from the man inside him, almost an apology as McCoy stroked him, long and slow and deep. McCoy buried his face in Jim's neck, wrapping his arms around him tight, like he wanted to keep Jim's back off the ground. They glided against each other, pushing and pulling in a slow rhythm that was very different from their earlier, hurried coupling. This was languid, kisses wet and tender, McCoy's hands roaming, holding onto Jim like a prized possession, something precious.
Then it stopped, McCoy pulling out again with a shudder. Jim took a wet breath and opened his eyes, watching McCoy roll off him and laying back to take Jim's place on the ground. The doctor reached for Jim, reached for his hands and guided Jim back on top of him. Jim didn't hesitate to straddle McCoy's thighs, almost amused at the doctor's need to get as much fucking done in as many positions as possible, before reaching down between them and guiding hard flesh back into him. Like this, Jim could bend down over McCoy and mouth across his neck, feeling the fluttering pulse against his tongue. The taste of rain and sweat was a sweet-salt mix in his mouth, urging him to bite down and leave a mark that would last a few days on the good doctor's skin while Starfleet accepted him.
Jim rocked slowly, his body tucked up so each motion was no more than a few inches in either direction. It was easy to lean on his hands, staring down to McCoy's face. Those dark eyes were staring at him, through him, until Jim wanted to ask Do I know you? of the man below him. Why this person, out of so many others from his past? Why would it be this random man from a bar-fight that felt less like a stranger and more like a friend? Whatever it was, it had a hold of both of them, and for the time being it wasn't letting go.
And McCoy wasn't letting go of Jim. Grasping at Jim's hips, he held on, letting Jim ride him, his mouth open as he looked up into Jim's eyes. Fingers slipped up to touch Jim's face again, feather-light on his cheeks, his thumb pulling lightly on Jim's bottom lip before reaching his head up to kiss him. When McCoy came, his eyes fluttered closed and he cried out Jim's name. Jim slowed his movements to a crawl, then stopped, so he could watch every second of it. It urged on the tightness in his own body, enough that he switched to balance on one hand while his freed hand wrapped around himself. He began to rock again, feeling the slick pull of McCoy's cock in him that set every nerve on fire. It matched the faster movement of his hand, half leaning forward as he tried to--
It surprised him when suddenly McCoy's hand slapped his own away. Jim's eyes flashed back open and he looked at the doctor in confusion. McCoy just gave a tired smirk and started to nudge Jim over until their position were once again reversed. Jim groaned when McCoy pulled out of him, body aching with the loss when it was so close, but McCoy more than made up for it. His mouth was suddenly there, heat and friction and wetness against flesh which pulled an almost startled sound of need out of Jim. Jim's head tilted back against the stone, hips coming up. McCoy pressed one hand down on Jim's hips in silent warning, and the other curled two long fingers into Jim's body and immediately went in deep into the opened ring of muscle.
When those fingertips found that spot inside of him, Jim groaned in his chest and rocked into it, feeling McCoy take his cock deep in his throat. The doctor was constantly surprising him, and this was one whole new surprise as McCoy proved he knew what he was doing, the curving of tongue and the tightness of cheeks. It didn't take much more with the dual pleasure-pressure in and on his body before Jim sucked in a breath and let it out as a groan as he came, toes curling almost to the point of pain until it released from his muscles all at once until his eyes shut and he sunk down into the ground.
Jim's mind came around later, focusing from the warmth of the darkness behind his lids to the reality around him. He was pressed up against McCoy, their legs tangled together, he could still hear the faint pattering of rain in the distance, and the darkness was almost total. He couldn't see anything, they'd have to do something about that later, but he was too content to move. He wondered if McCoy was even awake; his breathing was steady and smooth. Jim brought a hand up so he could feel across the other man's chest, lifting to trace a mindless shape on skin.
There was a quiet grunt, answering Jim's wondering about McCoy being awake. Several questions, comments, answers to silent ponderings came through Jim's head but he went with the question that seemed the easiest of them and maybe the only one he could vocalize. "So, how many times have you done this before?" Maybe not the smoothest choice of question ever.
Another little grunt, this one more like a chuckle. "How many times have I had sex?" McCoy pulled Jim closer, nuzzling into his hair. "Damn, don't tell me it was so bad you have to ask." The tone of his voice betrayed the fact that he knew Jim had enjoyed himself immensely.
Jim just gave a little snort, letting McCoy move him. "Ha ha, so funny," he dead panned, but his voice switched to sarcasm a second later, "I mean, with a guy. Said you divorced and had a kid, I assumed it was from a woman. You know, considering you called her 'wife' and 'mother'."
It was a moment before McCoy answered. "Yeah, she was a woman, the one I was married to." Jim felt McCoy lift his head and could only imagine the doctor looking down at him as if they could see each other. McCoy's eyes would be sort of dancing with a strange light, that same one he had seen a few times over the course of the trip. "You want to know about other people? I mean, yeah, I been with a few guys before. Been a while, but..." He kissed Jim's forehead. "You had fun, right?" McCoy asked, just a tinge of worry creeping into his voice.
"Fuck yea I did," Jim smirked, trying to wipe that worry clean. "Doctors know what they're doing." It was just a light tease.
But McCoy was shaking his head, felt more than seen. "You... you are amazing," he told him, his voice a whisper as he kissed the words into Jim's skin. McCoy was loose and relaxed in a way he hadn't been the entire time they'd known each other. Naked and slightly chilled, wet clothes all over the mine opening, McCoy seemed like he was having the time of his life.
"I know I am," Jim laughed, glad to hear that peace in McCoy's voice as he stretched out against McCoy. The relaxation, the exhaustion, and the contentment were strangely welcomed feelings. He could feel the rumble of laughter in McCoy's chest, strong arms hugging him again, a hand in his hair. Who knew the gruff doctor was so affectionate? None of this made sense.
"You okay, Jim?" McCoy asked, turning on his side. "You sore or anything?" The concern came through clear.
Jim just shook his head, "I'm fine. Don't worry about it." The concern almost made him nervous, enough to close his eyes to retreat to the darkness there instead of the darkness of the cave. Concern was oddly unfamiliar, unsettling. No one treated him like that.
"How 'bout hungry?" McCoy's hand fell from his head to cradle Jim's neck, rubbing it tenderly. "Want something to eat?"
"...Mm mm," a sound of disagreement because Jim was ready to go back to sleep. The hand felt good...
McCoy laughed again. "Alright," he murmured, as if understanding. McCoy rolled over a little and Jim could hear him fumbling in the direction of their bags. Jim realized McCoy must have found one of the thin blankets from Jim's saddle bag because when McCoy rolled back, he covered them both in the familiar material. "...g'night you." Jim just closed his eyes with a little smirk. McCoy was happy, which for now, made him happy.