Shore Duty (Kirk/McCoy NC-17)

  • Dec. 13th, 2010 at 5:58 PM
emiliglia: (mccoy/kirk-3)
Title: Shore Duty
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Word Count: 1,085
Warnings: it's really just a shameless excuse for porn
Summary: Inspired by this post at [livejournal.com profile] jim_and_bones and the [livejournal.com profile] hc_bingo prompt torture - Jim's on shore duty and bored as hell.

+++

The break between tours is painful - Jim can understand why so many officers opt to teach at the academy during that time. It's something to do, and it's entirely likely that you'll be imparting useful wisdom on someone who'll join your crew. Jim didn't have such foresight, though; he'd thought he'd be capable of spending more time in Riverside, but he hadn't even been able to stick it out for a month.

He went back to San Francisco, but despite all of the people who know who he is, it's never felt lonelier. Jim spends most of his days running tactical scenarios in the library just to return to his on-campus apartment to half-heartedly watch some movies before going to bed. He stares at his comm panel periodically, wanting to call Bones but not wanting to interfere with the time he's spending with his family.

He'd never really felt comfortable on Earth, like his skin was an itchy wool sweater that's two sizes too big. It's only exacerbated by the loneliness, and Jim's more than willing to admit that that's what he's feeling, just maybe not out loud. It's certainly not helping that Bones is on the other side of the country when they've been more or less living in each other's pockets for the last eight years.

Jim is barely in the apartment when the wall comm signals that someone is trying to contact him. "Computer, accept call," he says as he toes out of his boots, not even asking for the caller identification first.

"Would it have killed you to tell me you weren't in Iowa anymore?" Bones' tone is somewhere between relieved and annoyed, like he would've preferred Jim to be holed up in a jail cell somewhere.

"I didn't want to interrupt your time with your family, Bones." He tries to swallow around the lump in his throat at the realization that Bones is the only thing close to family that he has and that his family is across the country instead of with him. He forces a smile instead. "I was actually just thinking about you."

"Oh yeah?" Bones asks, raising an eyebrow at him. "In what state of dress?"

It's then that Jim takes in how quiet it is on Bones' end. He's sprawled in a leather chair in holey jeans and a navy blue henley, looking completely relaxed like he has not a care in the world. It's the complete opposite from how Jim usually sees him on the ship and even before when they were still cadets. There's a sharp pang of jealousy at the thought that while Bones is Jim's family, his home, the sentiment doesn't seem to be reciprocated.

"I'm not always thinking about you naked," Jim responds, forcing his voice to stay lighter than he feels. "It's just-" lonely "-not as interesting out here without you."

Bones gives a crooked smile and averts his gaze. "I miss you too, Jim." The fist squeezing his heart relaxes a little before disappearing completely with the next thing Bones says. "You could've come to Georgia instead of puttering around the academy. Are the admirals making you give seminars?"

"I did one. They wanted me to talk about command decisions I had to make, but they limited the missions I could and couldn't talk about." Jim scowls. "Like the cadets can't handle knowing that not every mission ends well and that some of them are complete and utter clusterfucks." He doesn't even want to think about the Q&A afterwards, how those not asking about what happened five years ago had been asking about his father like Jim had actually known the man. He adopts a shit-eating grin as he lowers himself to drape across the chair in front of the comm panel. "So, speaking of fucks…"

"That's the worst segue I've ever heard, Jim," Bones says with a chuckle, shaking his head disbelievingly.

"Can't blame a man for working with what he has." Jim lowers his voice and spreads his legs a little wider. "You're alone, right?" He runs his right hand down his chest, pinching a nipple through his T-shirt, and is further encouraged by the way Bones' eyes follow his motions.

"Yeah, I'm alone," Bones responds, and Jim can tell from the tone of his voice that Bones is completely onboard with what's about to happen.

Jim makes a show of licking his lips before letting his mouth go slack, wanting both to close his eyes so he can imagine that it's Bones' hands, not his own, but that would mean not being able to watch what Bones is doing. He doesn't waste any time, hand going straight to his jeans to knead at his cock through the material. Jim follows suit, savoring the breathy, "Fuck," that falls from Bones' mouth.

"You wish that was my hand, don't you?" Jim asks, mirroring the way Bones is touching himself. He undoes his pants, lifting his hips enough to get them halfway down his thighs. "I'd suck you off first, get you hard and needy before straddling you in that chair and riding you with nothing more than my spit to ease the way."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Bones asks, drawing out his own cock, and Jim has to squeeze himself to keep from coming just at the sight of Bones slowly stroking himself, face flushed and eyes half-lidded. "And maybe I'd touch you, give you more of the friction you crave, or maybe I'd make you come just from my dick in your ass." Jim groans, speeding up his strokes and rubbing that sensitive spot below the head of his cock with the side of his thumb. "You could have me hit your prostate every time."

Jim squeezes his eyes shut when he comes and chokes out Bones' name. He distantly hears Bones' hand stop moving, his breath hitch, and he forces his eyes open to watch Bones' own orgasm. Jim can almost pretend that it's Bones' come on his fingers instead of his own.

"You better get your ass out here tomorrow to make good on what you said," Bones says, and Jim laughs.

"How about I take the next shuttle?"

"I'd say you should at least wash your hands first."

Jim's smile turns wicked at his raises his hand to lick it clean, Bones' answering moan reverberating through every nerve in his body. "I'll see you soon, Bones," he says and closes the connection.

Shore duty may have just redeemed itself after all.


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