Fic: Brighter Than Sunshine
Title: Brighter Than Sunshine
Author: sunriseinspace
Character(s): Jim Kirk / Leonard McCoy, Joanna McCoy
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I own nothing about Star Trek (2009), its characters or plotlines, including any recognizable dialogue.
Summary: Summer of Love challenge prompt on jim_and_bones : "Popsicles. And it's hot, so the popsicles are melting. All over the place. And I do mean all..." Comes after Hotter'n Blue Blazes and Brightest Hue.
A/N: Not quite what the prompt called for, but close enough I think. ;D
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"Cap'n Jim! It's melting too fast!" Joanna squeals, running over to him, with a popsicle stick in one fist and the melted remains of the grape-flavored treat dripping down her sunshine yellow shirt. She has purple juice streaked over both cheeks, her lips a horrible mottled purple-red, and she holds her hands out in front of her as they drip with popsicle juice. Truthfully, she's about the cutest ten-year-old he's ever seen, his own niece and nephew included, but she has a glare on her face to rival her dad's, so he makes sure his expression gives nothing away.
"What, you didn't want purple hands?" he asks playfully, carefully tucking his book into his back pocket. Her scowl darkens and he bites his lips to keep from laughing, reaches out and takes the stick from her hand, raising an eyebrow as a chunk of the treat falls to land between his feet. Joanna giggles at his expression and he takes that as permission to smile as well. "Okay, babe, much as I love colorfully-skinned ladies, your dad'll kill me if he finds purple handprints everywhere. Go on in and wash up," he waves vaguely at the house.
"Can I wear the shirt Mommy and Clay got me yesterday?" she asks, dancing in place at the possibility. He nods and she squeals again, placing a sticky, smacking kiss on his cheek before running across the yard and into the house, screen door slamming behind her.
He watches her go, smiling bemusedly, and turns his attention to the rapidly disappearing popsicle. He sighs and sticks it in his mouth, grimacing at the cold and the saccharine flavor. Wincing through the cold headache, he drops the stick on the picnic table behind him, considering his now-sticky hands with a resigned, vaguely disgusted look on his face. Really, he should have thought this whole thing through a little better, from buying her the treat without thinking about the weather (temperatures over 95 degrees really aren't optimum for popsicle consumption) to taking it from her without a backup plan. Shrugging, he licks at his thumb, wondering how in the world he managed to get grape popsicle over both hands in less than five minutes.
A warm hand wraps around his wrist, pulling it away from his mouth. Bones settles on the picnic bench next to Jim and tugs Jim's captured wrist to his face. With a wicked glint in more-green-than-brown hazel eyes, he licks a stripe across the palm of Jim's hand, eyes on Jim's as he takes in the way every muscle in Jim's body is instantly hyperaware of Bones' proximity. He does it again and the breath halts in Jim's chest, exhaling on a groan as Bones sucks Jim's first two fingers into his mouth, running his tongue up and down and between the digits. Jim feels the heat in his face, feels his body react to the suction and the way Bones' tongue swirls around his fingertips. He's suddenly so hard it hurts and Bones' eyes never leave Jim's face, watching the way Jim's tongue darts out to dampen dry lips, the way Jim's eyes flutter half-closed when Bones pulls off the first two fingers with a 'pop' and draws the last two into his mouth, the way Jim gulps in helpless arousal at the nipping kiss Bones bestows to the pad of Jim's right ring finger.
The process is repeated with Jim's left hand, this time including rolling pressure and swirling suction around his left thumb, until every traces of grape flavor is removed from Jim's hands and Jim himself is a shaking mess of conflicting needs.
"Bones," he tries, swallowing hard at how wrecked his voice sounds. Sweat beads at his temple and rolls down his cheek like a tear, the summer heat suddenly a blazing inferno threatening to devour him whole. He wants Bones, right here, right now, but Joanna's in the house and bound to return at any moment, proudly showing off her new shirt. The subtle sway of the hammock at the corner of his eye isn't helping things, just calls to mind exactly how he could have Bones (and has had Bones), right here in the yard.
Warm lips firm against his own sidetrack that train of thought. All of his mental processes decay into more and want and pressure and the stinging bite of teeth into his bottom lip, pulling a moan from deep within his chest. He tangles his fingers in the sweaty strands of Bones' hair, feeling the phantom pressure of Bones' mouth on them as he curls his fingers into fists. Bones growls at the way Jim tugs on his hair, arms around Jim's shoulders and waist pulling him almost painfully tightly against Bones, tight enough to feel the arousal coursing through Bones' body.
Panting in the heat, Jim breaks the kiss, sucking in gulps of air as he rests his head on Bones' shoulder. They pull apart just as Joanna slams open the screen door, thundering across the porch and across the yard.
"Daddy!" she screeches gleefully, tumbling to a stop in front of him, arms held wide to show off her shirt. "Lookit what Mommy got me!"
Bones praises and fusses over the shirt, fingering the lacy ruffles and embroidered butterflies while his daughter beams at him, shining so brightly Jim can't keep his eyes on her. He glances away and watches the air waver over the scorched yard. Bones presses a kiss to Jo's forehead and sends her off down the road to her friend's, coaxing out a promise to be home in two hours before she flies away in a blur of blue and green. Jim swallows hard at the warmth in Bones' eyes as he watches his daughter go. Silence stretches thick as taffy between them in the wake of Jo's laughter and Jim shifts to lean against Bones' side.
Bones turns his head to look at Jim, eyes depthless, containing all of the heat of the summer day, burning clear and quick through any melancholy over Jo. The wicked glint returns as hazel eyes track over Jim's face, settling on a spot just below Jim's left cheekbone. Bones leans forward and presses his lips against Jim's cheek, openmouthed and hot as a brand, tongue flickering against Jim's skin. It's exactly where Jo kissed him earlier, no doubt leaving a purple stain from the popsicle, and the contrast has Jim melting against Bones, going more than willingly when Bones stands and pulls him to his feet.
"There're some more popsicles in the freezer," Bones whispers hotly in Jim's ear and Jim whimpers at the implications. "I'll race you upstairs," Bones says as he pulls back and Jim is off across the yard before Bones is done speaking, dark laughter hot as the sun above echoing off the sun-scorched earth as the screen door slams behind him.