Comment Fics from Jim_and_Bones

[bandearg_rois]

These are the ones that I haven't posted on my own journal yet. RPS/FPS, will warn in the cut.



Too Late/Too Early
Comment fic for These Pictures on jim_and_bones which is friendlocked.


Leonard cursed as he stumbled into the apartment, trying not to wake Jim, who should have been sound asleep at 2 in the morning. He cursed again as he tripped over his own damned coffee table, brought in once they'd managed to get this place a few weeks before. A sound from the kitchen made him pause, until the tiny light over the oven switched on and Jim's face was lit up, sleep-mussed hair over his slightly irritated expression.

"Bones? What the hell are you doing?" It wasn't the first time Leonard had woken his friend, but this was the first time he'd been this loud, and a pang of regret hit him solidly in the chest. Jim stood in their tiny kitchen, shirtless and confused, and Leonard just wanted to kiss the expression off his face. They'd fumbled through kisses a few times before, usually when both of them were shit-faced, and this really wasn't the time for it, but he couldn't help himself. He dropped his bag to the floor and stepped forward, until they were nearly chest to chest, and took Jim's hands in his own.

"Sorry, Jim, just got off shift, didn't mean to wake you up." Jim made an annoyed noise and tried to pull away, but Leonard held on, pulling him a little closer, kissing him softly in the harsh yellow light that sent shadows chasing over them. The sound of annoyance changed to one of muted pleasure, and Leonard pulled back finally, still holding Jim's hands. "Come on, darlin', let's get you back to bed." He flipped off the stove light and led Jim through the dark and into the blonde's room, pushing him onto the bed visible due to the moonlight outside the window.

"Okay, Bones. G'night." Jim laid down under the blankets and pulled them over his head, cementing Leonard's thought that his friend wasn't quite awake in the first place. Leonard smiled and then went to his own room, ready to sleep for ten hours to forget the awful shift he'd had, the memory of the kiss helping that along nicely.

He woke to a warm weight at his side, late morning sunlight streaming through his window. He turned slightly to see a slightly awake Jim staring at him, a slight smile on his face.

"Good morning," Jim said softly, running a finger up and down his arm, raising gooseflesh where it roamed.

"Morning. You okay?" Jim had never deliberately sought his bed, though like the kisses, they'd ended up in the same bed after drunken nights, too tired to do more than sleep. There was a heaviness to the air, something that he wasn't used to. It had to do with the lazy way that Jim was looking at him, the banked fire in those blue eyes.

"Just fine," Jim said, leaning over him, and Leonard had a moment to admire his features before Jim was kissing him, languid but deep, and Leonard felt that same banked fire in himself burn slow and hot, as he returned the kiss, forcing himself not to think about the consequences, only the feeling of Jim's lips on his.

The kiss morphed into soft touches, overdue exploration by two people long accustomed to ignoring their feelings, feelings finally given free reign in this place. Leonard felt no insistence, no urgency; they had all the time in the world to explore, in this place they had created.

Soon enough, his pants had been slid off, and Jim's clothing had disappeared as well. Leonard kissed his way down Jim's torso, reveling in the sighs and moans his action produced. Jim's fingers curled in the hair at his neck, not to urge or stop, simply to connect, and Leonard, transmitted his appreciation through his touch, sliding across sweat dampened skin, toward the place he knew Jim wanted him most.

The pace began to quicken; nothing this good could stay slow for long. Leonard followed the path of his fingers with his mouth, drawing more sounds, some he'd never before heard, from the man beneath him. Finally he closed his mouth over the tip of Jim's cock, drawing both a gasp and a buck of appreciation.

This too, could not last long, and soon enough, a tube was pressed into his hand, and he uncapped it and slicked three of his fingers, sighing in appreciation when Jim pulled his legs further apart, baring his entrance to the questing digits. He traced the puckered hole, watching as it twitched in anticipation, before slowly slipping one finger inside, entranced with the sight and feel of it disappearing into that moist heat. He thrust in, until Jim's whines changed in timber, adding a second finger and scissoring a bit before searching for that place inside Jim, earning a keen and panting breaths when he found it.

He added a third, moving so slowly, torturing both Jim and himself with his speed, Jim's hips undulating slowly, as if he weren't in control of them. Finally, Leonard deemed him ready and added more of the lube to his own cock, kissing his way back up Jim's body until he took his lips in a kiss full of all of the feelings he couldn't yet name, positioning himself at Jim's entrance and pushing in.

It was tight, so tight, and he kept to his pace, slowly going deeper, stopping when the heat tightened to the point of pain, continuing when it loosened, until he bottomed out, drawing a sighing groan from both of them. He lifted Jim's hips into a different angle before retreating, only to slide in again, wrenching a hitching gasp as he hit the prostate again. He kept that rhythm, soft and slow and torturous, their voices raising in a chorus of sighs as they moved together, toward a summit neither of them could see.

Inevitably the pace sped, as sweat streamed down both of their bodies, Leonard going faster, and deeper, but still soft, still in keeping with what they were in this time. He gently grasped Jim's cock, stroking once, twice, and Jim released with a loud groan, the tightness too much for Leonard as he thrust once more and joined his voice to Jim's emptying himself thoroughly before collapsing to the side with a sigh.

When he could breathe again, he scented coffee in the kitchen area, and looked to Jim for an explanation.

"You looked so... worn down last night, I wanted to do something nice for you. I went to that one coffee place around the corner and got some pastries and that one blend you like so much. This was just a bonus."

"And what a bonus," he said with a smile, kissing Jim again. "Will the coffee keep through a shower?"

"Yeah, but I don't think we will; you go first. I can wait." They kissed again and Leonard reluctantly went off for his shower, before throwing on the first shirt he saw that wasn't dirty and his pajama pants, since he didn't have to work until the weekend so he could afford to laze now. He went into the kitchen and checked the little presspot that Jim had bought, finding that the coffee hadn't been harmed by the delay.

By the time Jim had finished with his own shower, Leonard had two cups poured, and was sipping his, waiting for Jim to appear in his ubiquitous white t-shirt. He was sitting on the counter, and Jim took the cup from him with an appreciative sound, before cupping a hand to the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

"I love you," Jim said when they pulled apart.

"I love you, too, darlin'," he said, resting his forehead against Jim's, a grin on his face.



You Do Realize, Right? (Chris/Karl)
Written off these  Dailies  at jim_and_bones  which are sadly friendlocked.



Karl rolled over when he heard the front door open, smiling into the darkness as Chris hit his foot on the front table, just like he always did. The sound of keys hitting the bowl and a groan of mute appreciation made him grin. He'd left a note on the fridge and on the beer inside, making sure Chris knew he was welcome, no matter that he had a key and came over all the time anyway.

He grinned larger into the sudden dim light coming into the bedroom as the door opened and Chris came in, having finished the beer quickly. He pressed his face into the pillow and pretended to be asleep; trying to fool another actor was hard, but not impossible.

"Come on, Karl, I know you're awake," Chris said, cajoling, and he finally rolled over to watch Chris pull his jacket off. The shirt underneath was familiar, very familiar, and he began to chuckle. "What?"

"You do realize, right?" he said in between his expressions of mirth, having to look away from Chris's puzzled expression lest he break out in guffaws.

"What?"

"That's my shirt you're wearing, love," he finally said, squawking when Chris landed on the bed, shirtless, making him bounce slightly.

"Oh really? It was yours?" Chris asked, grinning at him now, a sparkle of something in those pale eyes, colorless in this light, but still very expressive. "Well, I'd say that means that I have good taste, wouldn't you?"

"I think you taste good, if that means anything?" he said, laughing as Chris rolled him onto his back, kissing him soundly. "You have too many clothes on," he sighed a few minutes later, tugging at Chris's slacks, and Chris obligingly took them off, revealing that he'd been going commando, which made Karl growl in appreciation. When he tried to take the dominant position, Chris pinned him to the bed and bit his shoulder, just hard enough to make him freeze.

"Nuh uh, not tonight, Karl," he whispered, and Karl felt the iron control he usually kept snap. He allowed himself to be manipulated, groaning when Chris latched onto one of his nipples, the sparking pleasure making him whine.

This wasn't a normal position for Karl. Being older, he usually took the 'driver's seat' when they made love, but it was enjoyable to give up that control, too. When Chris started running gentle fingers down his sides, though, he bucked impatiently. He'd been waiting for Chris to get back from the benefit and he wanted something to happen, dammit.

"Patience, Karl, is a virtue," Chris murmured, and he groaned, half in pleasure, half in exasperation. Chris was in a talking mood, and that meant lots of prose, unless he missed his guess. When Chris didn't speak again, though, he realized that he had missed it, especially when those questing fingers slipped beneath the edge of his pajama pants, just barely brushing the crease where his hips met his groin.

"Jesus, get on with it, Pine!" he grunted, frustrated, trying to get more touches, firmer strokes, and for his pants to be taken off now, please. Chris obliged the latter, and his pants slid down his legs in a whisper of silk, but the touches continued in their deceptive gentleness, lighting fires wherever they rested, and he was bucking continually, trying to get some kind of friction.

Chris's continued chuckles were making him angry, but the younger man was completely in control of the situation, so he could do no more than growl and glare, which did nothing but make Chris shiver at the sound. Finally, Chris's mouth moved from his chest down his abdomen, licking into his bellybutton and he heard a sound that couldn't possibly have come from him, somewhere between a keen and a moan, and he was bucking as much as he was able, Chris's fingers suddenly hard over his hips, holding him in place.

"I can do this all night, Karl. Cooperate, please," Chris said, breath ghosting over where he wanted it most, and he subsided, realizing that the more he let Chris do what he wanted, the faster he'd get what he wanted, Chris fucking him into the mattress. He groaned loudly when Chris finally, finally, closed his mouth over the tip of his erection, sucking lightly. Karl positively howled, unable to control his hips as he tried to get more of that mouth, go deeper, more heat, more wetness, just more. Chris moved with him, though, his chuckles going straight to Karl's nervous system, shocking him into a frantic buck that nearly unseated his lover.

Chris finally reached a hand up for the tube of lube that was hastily passed. Karl had planned for this eventuality, since he liked it either way, and was gratified when Chris drew in a quick, sharp breath when his slicked fingers found Karl already stretched, slipping three in immediately, stretching him a little more, making Karl bear down, wanting more, needing Chris to fuck him nownownownow and then his hips were lifted and Chris pushed home, bottoming out in one long thrust, drawing an absolutely obscene noise from Karl as he pulled out and pushed back in, and Karl could feel the angle change and OHHOLYSHITYES his vision sparkled as his prostate was hit, throwing his head back and trying to draw Chris in further.

Chris lifted him so that his ankles were resting on Chris's shoulders, making that angle permanent, as he began to thrust in earnest, both of them groaning and the sweat was pouring from both of them. Karl couldn't stop making noises, talking, saying anything to make Chris up the pace, to get more of that delicious feeling.

"Your cerebrum in muzzled
with sensations, you are coming with your mind aglow
in riot of desires you can only tame to know," Chris grunted, even as he sped his strokes, and Karl was undone by his voice, spouting poetry at a time like this, and he saw white as he came without even being touched, a raw sound being ripped from him as his back bowed, Chris following him into oblivion a few moments later.

When they came back down from their high, Chris grinned at him from the pillow opposite. "I should wear your shirts more often."

((the poem Chris quotes is real, called 'Desires That You Can Only Tame to Know' by Ivan Donn Carswell))



You Know What Happens Now (M!U Bones/Jim)
Warning: Breath!Play, BDSM, Orgasm denial
Written for   on jim_and_bones  which is friendlocked.

Jim was laughing at something the Ambassador of whatever planet they were on now had said, and the only thing Leonard could think of was that expanse of creamy neck, fully on display in the suit that was so different from Jim's usual uniform, much more subdued than that damn sash he always wore, and somehow that just made Leonard angrier. He was angry that Jim was so obviously putting himself on display, which was sometimes a necessary evil, but not this time.

This time, everything Jim was doing was calculated to piss him off, and despite the fact that he knew it, it was working. As the night wore on, he continued to pretend laughter at every inane joke, pretended to be having the greatest time he'd ever had in his life, because despite the fact that Jim didn't have to whore himself for these people, they were a bit too important to be his normal sullen self. And yes, he could admit that part of his actions were galvanized by the fact that he was punishing Jim a little bit too with his indifference.

Finally, finally, the damned party was over, and Jim said his goodbyes. Leonard had already made his leg and gotten the hell out of there, looking forward to the bottle of Romulan Ale that he had tried to barter for, and ended up just kidnapping the trader and his wares. The rest of the haul was in his private storage, and the remains of the trader had been recyc-ed weeks before. But that ale was calling his name, and he fully intended to answer, to leave Jim to his own for awhile, to stew on the fact that his doctor, his Master, didn't care one whit for his behavior.

Just after he changed into more comfortable clothing, his door swooshed open and Jim came in, more buttons undone than earlier in the night. His Captain walked silently over and knelt in front of him, presenting the back of his neck. If it would have done anything for his strategies, Leonard could have destroyed him where he knelt, but it didn't, so he just waited, knowing that Jim couldn't keep his mouth shut, not even when put into this kind of position.

"I'm sorry, Master," the kid finally said, but Leonard was more angry than he'd first realized, and that meant Jim wasn't getting out of his punishment.

"Strip," he said softly, deceptively softly, covering that edge of steel that he had honed to a fine point, to hurt or heal as he chose.

Jim hastened to divest himself of that damn suit, and for a moment Leonard wished that they still did barbaric things like burning, because that's exactly what he wanted to do to that infernal bunch of cloth. Instead he threw it in the reconstituter, ignoring Jim's aborted protest, and the fact that if Jim had worn it here, for him, he wouldn't have done that.

The power struggle between the two of them had ended years before, but obviously Jim needed a refresher. He stalked over to where Jim knelt, fully naked now, and lifted him from the floor by his hair, ignoring the hiss the action produced, and changed his grip to that creamy throat that had been mocking him all evening. Using his new position, he threw the blonde onto the bed, and before Jim could do more than blink, had both of his wrists in the cuffs that had been installed his first day on-ship.

Far from being afraid of this treatment, Jim's cock was hard, leaking and bobbing over his stomach in his eagerness. Leonard stood there for a moment, thinking about how all of this would play out, what he wanted to do, and what Jim needed. Because as much as Jim was his, Jim had needs, and as much of a hard-ass as Leonard was, he wasn't dick enough not to fill some of them. Hell, he did it unconsciously most of the time, and usually that was enough.

But not tonight. Tonight was something else, because Jim wouldn't do those things without a reason. So Leonard thought, long and hard, making Jim wait, the way he needed to. finally, he decided on a course of action and knelt on the bed, to the side, and ignored Jim's unconscious tries to curl toward him, to be touched. that wasn't going to happen yet.

He carefully placed his hand back on Jim's neck, pressing on that delectable windpipe and Adam's apple, cutting off almost all of Jim's air, enjoying the feel of the wheezing, gasping breaths under his hand. This was a game of power, not pleasure, even though neither of them could deny that this was turning both of them on. That was a by-product of being in each other's presence, of the heavy tension that lay between them always.

He waited until those wheezing breaths just became a touch too hitching, and he released the pressure, listening to the music that was Jim's rasping, choking breaths. He finally ran one hand down the heaving torso next to him, stopping just shy of where he knew Jim wanted him most. He was determined to drag this out, and nothing could stop him, not the hiccuping moans that Jim couldn't help but let loose, and certainly not his own raging erection.

This was definitely a night for torture, though since he hadn't adequately prepared for it, nothing truly fun would happen. He would just have to content himself with keeping Jim on the edge of life, driving home the fact that he was the one with the control, and that was what he was after.

Leonard continued to run his hands over Jim, lulling him into a false sense of safety, that was in itself an act, since Jim would never truly let his guard down, not unless he was ordered to do so. Since Leonard wanted that surrender, he let his voice go even softer, fingers tender, brushing all of those little places that drove Jim wild.

"Let it go, Jim," he murmured. "Let go." The tension that had suffused Jim's body left with a whoosh of air from the blonde's lungs, and Leonard felt the flush of victory once again. "That's it, darlin'," he said softly, praising Jim, feeling the shivers of reaction through Jim's skin. Before Jim could get complacent, however, his hand returned to that throat, pressing harder than before, until he was sure that Jim's vision was at least spotty, if not darkening, before releasing just as quickly, rubbing soothingly at the collarbone under his fingers.

This was dangerous play, but he knew exactly what he was doing, how far he could push, and it was an unconscious knowledge, one that he'd had since he was a teenager, so that he'd had years to hone that experience, find a way to make it serve him. Jim obviously enjoyed it, if the hacking coughs mixed with wheezing moans were anything to go by.

He continued for a few minutes, pushing and releasing with one hand, while his other hand studiously avoided Jim's cock, touching his thighs and legs with feather-light touches, drawing exquisite sounds from his pet's mouth. He moved jim's balls out of the way firmly, before licking two of his fingers and pushing them in slowly, causing the most pain, watching as Jim's cock bobbed.

After a few moments of that torture, he pulled his fingers free and scooped up some lube from the jar standing open on his nightstand, slicking his cock quickly. It was time to remind Jim of just how much he could take, and just how much Leonard was going to give. He kept one hand at Jim's throat, though he didn't press, as he lifted Jim's hips with one hand and slammed into him, covering his mouth with one hand, muffling the scream of pain that Jim couldn't have held in if he tried.

Once he was in, he didn't stop, didn't begin to worry about hurting Jim, since it was already past time for that sort of thing and he was Leonard McCoy, the Enterprise Butcher, not some bleeding-heart liberal who protested the Empire and ended up as toys. So he slammed hard and fast, hand moving back down to Jim's neck, not pressing as hard, but still cutting off that life-giving substance.

It wasn't until he heard the choked cries and felt the awkward tension that he realized he'd pressed too hard, and he let up immediately, even as he continued to thrust, too close to his own finish to stop now. Jim's lips were almost blue, and his head was lolling, but he was conscious, and his cock was weeping, and angry red. Normally, he'd touch Jim right about now, but this was punishment, no matter how much pleasure Jim was getting, so he didn't, and even changed his angle to only almost hit Jim's prostate, torturing him with pleasure until the blue tint left his lips and he was trying to thrust up, get more.

He thrust once, twice, and came hard, deliberately hitting Jim's prostate, his own vision going white as he collapsed on top of him. Once he was back to himself, Jim was still rock hard and weeping, and he just looked at Jim before getting up and pulling his pants back up. He still wanted the Romulan Ale. Jim would keep.