![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_water_clockAuthor: Clio
Title: So This Starfleet Captain Walks into a Bar …
Pairing: Star Trek: James T. Kirk/Leonard McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Summary: On shore leave after a few rough missions, Jim heads to a seedy bar to forget his troubles, and finds a kindred spirit who wants to do the same.
Length: 1000 words
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created by Gene Roddenberry and owned by one of the large media companies in a complicated arrangement to which I am not a signatory. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: Written for the "NC-17" prompt 3 for thest_respect ship battle, which has a limit of 1000 words. Thanks to mintcloud for the awesome beta!
Jim hadn't been in a bar this sad and seedy in a long damn time, at least since before the Academy. Old men sat drinking alone at tables scattered around a sawdust-strewn floor, and the few women looked like working girls long past their prime. It was kind of bar where you drank to forget, which suited Jim's mood just fine. He took a stool at the bar and ordered whiskey, neat.
Jim turned to look at the man a stool away from him, who seemed a little young for this bar. Dark messy hair just starting to go grey, an impressive scowl, and from what Jim could see, a good body hiding under the jeans, shirt and brown denim jacket. Rough around the edges, but Jim liked that. When he got his drink he nodded to the man and raised his glass.
"Bourbon's better," he said, his voice a low rumble.
"Better in general," Jim replied, "or better in this bar?"
"Both," the man said. He looked Jim up and down with deep hazel eyes under heavy eyebrows. "You sure you're in the right place, pretty boy?"
Jim grinned. "If you're gonna call me that, I am," he replied.
The man huffed. "Well ain't you cocky," he said.
"And you're grumpy," Jim said, "but I won't hold it against you."
"I'm no dwarf, kid," Grumpy replied.
"Wanna prove that?" Jim asked, cocking his head toward the restroom.
Grumpy raised one eyebrow. "You a pro?" he asked. "'Cause you're moving damn fast, and I don't have—"
"No," Jim replied. "Just another lonely sailor on shore leave with no time to waste on niceties."
"Niceties get in the way anyway," Grumpy said.
Jim glanced down at Grumpy's hand. "What about that ring on your finger?" he asked.
"That ring is none of your damned business," Grumpy replied. "You don't see me asking about yours."
Jim shrugged. "Don't want whoever gave it to you coming after me tomorrow," he said.
"Don't worry about that," Grumpy said. "His bar fighting days are behind him."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Jim asked.
Grumpy knocked back the rest of his bourbon. "You to finish your drink," he said.
Grumpy led Jim down the back hall to a dusty storeroom. He kicked the door shut and quickly slammed Jim against the back wall, making short work of getting Jim's belt and jeans unfastened and pushed down to his ankles.
"Commando, nice," Grumpy said.
"I like to be prepared, "Jim said as he kicked his jeans off.
"So do I," Grumpy, said, pulling a condom and lube out of his pocket.
Jim didn't have to be told to spread his legs—his mouth was watering just looking at the bulge in Grumpy's trousers, not to mention those big hands that were now grabbing his ass, fingers plunging into his hole, and he flinched.
"Too much, sailor?" Grumpy asked.
"No, just cold," Jim said, looking him in the eye. Grumpy seemed to be doing it all by feel, and they stared at each other as though Jim wasn't fucking himself on Grumpy's fingers—or maybe the staring was the sex; Jim was losing track.
Grumpy pulled back and unfastened his trousers just enough to get his cock out. Jim grabbed the condom and rolled it on, eager to get his hands on Grumpy's cock even just for a moment, then watched as Grumpy lubed himself up. "All right, up," he said.
Jim leaned back against the wall, his ass in Grumpy's hands, and wrapped his legs around Grumpy's waist. Grumpy wasted no time, thrusting into him hard and long from the start, and Jim closed his eyes and moaned.
"No, look at me," Grumpy said. "I don't care how many pointless fucks you've had in the back of shitty bars, you're gonna remember me."
Jim obeyed, and it was all he could do not to kiss him, but kissing was strictly forbidden in these encounters. He settled for just staring at those hazel eyes and full lips in equal measure, and wrapped a hand around his cock.
"Someone needs to teach you a lesson," Grumpy was saying, "and if whoever gave you that ring doesn't know what their job is, I do."
"Pounding my ass into the wall?" Jim asked.
"If that's what it takes to shut you up," he replied.
Jim wanted to say that it took more than that, but it was more fun to stop talking and let an anonymous fuck take him away from his name, his job, his responsibilities, everything that weighed him down. The thought of that—of escaping from all things James Tiberius Kirk—did the trick, and he was coming, his cock spurting all over Grumpy's shirt.
"Sorry 'bout that," Jim muttered.
And then Grumpy, despite having his dick up Jim's ass, laughed. "No you're not," he said, and then he shifted just slightly and started fucking Jim even harder, though Jim hadn't thought that possible. Jim was just along for the ride now and watching Grumpy's expressions was absolutely worth the price of admission. He'd never known eyebrows could be so expressive.
Grumpy didn't last much longer in any case. A few final thrusts and he was done, his head thumping against JIm's shoulder.
"Damn that was hot," Jim gasped.
"Yeah," Grumpy replied, still panting.
"Fuck, Bones," Jim pleaded, "if you don't fucking kiss me right now—"
Bones lifted up his head and kissed Jim for all he was worth and then some.
"Love you so much," Jim whispered.
"Love you too," Bones replied, "even if you did come all over my goddamned shirt."
Jim shrugged. "I'm not sorry."
"Brat," Bones said, easing out of Jim and setting him back down on his feet.
"Yeah, the man who gave me the ring keeps calling me that," Jim joked, slipping into his jeans.
Bones chuckled. "Let's go back to our room, make use of that obscenely large tub."
"Can we do obscene things in it?" Jim asked.
"Of course," Bones said.
Jim grinned. "Man, I love shore leave."
Title: So This Starfleet Captain Walks into a Bar …
Pairing: Star Trek: James T. Kirk/Leonard McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Summary: On shore leave after a few rough missions, Jim heads to a seedy bar to forget his troubles, and finds a kindred spirit who wants to do the same.
Length: 1000 words
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created by Gene Roddenberry and owned by one of the large media companies in a complicated arrangement to which I am not a signatory. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: Written for the "NC-17" prompt 3 for the
st_respect ship battle, which has a limit of 1000 words. Thanks to mintcloud for the awesome beta!Jim hadn't been in a bar this sad and seedy in a long damn time, at least since before the Academy. Old men sat drinking alone at tables scattered around a sawdust-strewn floor, and the few women looked like working girls long past their prime. It was kind of bar where you drank to forget, which suited Jim's mood just fine. He took a stool at the bar and ordered whiskey, neat.
Jim turned to look at the man a stool away from him, who seemed a little young for this bar. Dark messy hair just starting to go grey, an impressive scowl, and from what Jim could see, a good body hiding under the jeans, shirt and brown denim jacket. Rough around the edges, but Jim liked that. When he got his drink he nodded to the man and raised his glass.
"Bourbon's better," he said, his voice a low rumble.
"Better in general," Jim replied, "or better in this bar?"
"Both," the man said. He looked Jim up and down with deep hazel eyes under heavy eyebrows. "You sure you're in the right place, pretty boy?"
Jim grinned. "If you're gonna call me that, I am," he replied.
The man huffed. "Well ain't you cocky," he said.
"And you're grumpy," Jim said, "but I won't hold it against you."
"I'm no dwarf, kid," Grumpy replied.
"Wanna prove that?" Jim asked, cocking his head toward the restroom.
Grumpy raised one eyebrow. "You a pro?" he asked. "'Cause you're moving damn fast, and I don't have—"
"No," Jim replied. "Just another lonely sailor on shore leave with no time to waste on niceties."
"Niceties get in the way anyway," Grumpy said.
Jim glanced down at Grumpy's hand. "What about that ring on your finger?" he asked.
"That ring is none of your damned business," Grumpy replied. "You don't see me asking about yours."
Jim shrugged. "Don't want whoever gave it to you coming after me tomorrow," he said.
"Don't worry about that," Grumpy said. "His bar fighting days are behind him."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Jim asked.
Grumpy knocked back the rest of his bourbon. "You to finish your drink," he said.
Grumpy led Jim down the back hall to a dusty storeroom. He kicked the door shut and quickly slammed Jim against the back wall, making short work of getting Jim's belt and jeans unfastened and pushed down to his ankles.
"Commando, nice," Grumpy said.
"I like to be prepared, "Jim said as he kicked his jeans off.
"So do I," Grumpy, said, pulling a condom and lube out of his pocket.
Jim didn't have to be told to spread his legs—his mouth was watering just looking at the bulge in Grumpy's trousers, not to mention those big hands that were now grabbing his ass, fingers plunging into his hole, and he flinched.
"Too much, sailor?" Grumpy asked.
"No, just cold," Jim said, looking him in the eye. Grumpy seemed to be doing it all by feel, and they stared at each other as though Jim wasn't fucking himself on Grumpy's fingers—or maybe the staring was the sex; Jim was losing track.
Grumpy pulled back and unfastened his trousers just enough to get his cock out. Jim grabbed the condom and rolled it on, eager to get his hands on Grumpy's cock even just for a moment, then watched as Grumpy lubed himself up. "All right, up," he said.
Jim leaned back against the wall, his ass in Grumpy's hands, and wrapped his legs around Grumpy's waist. Grumpy wasted no time, thrusting into him hard and long from the start, and Jim closed his eyes and moaned.
"No, look at me," Grumpy said. "I don't care how many pointless fucks you've had in the back of shitty bars, you're gonna remember me."
Jim obeyed, and it was all he could do not to kiss him, but kissing was strictly forbidden in these encounters. He settled for just staring at those hazel eyes and full lips in equal measure, and wrapped a hand around his cock.
"Someone needs to teach you a lesson," Grumpy was saying, "and if whoever gave you that ring doesn't know what their job is, I do."
"Pounding my ass into the wall?" Jim asked.
"If that's what it takes to shut you up," he replied.
Jim wanted to say that it took more than that, but it was more fun to stop talking and let an anonymous fuck take him away from his name, his job, his responsibilities, everything that weighed him down. The thought of that—of escaping from all things James Tiberius Kirk—did the trick, and he was coming, his cock spurting all over Grumpy's shirt.
"Sorry 'bout that," Jim muttered.
And then Grumpy, despite having his dick up Jim's ass, laughed. "No you're not," he said, and then he shifted just slightly and started fucking Jim even harder, though Jim hadn't thought that possible. Jim was just along for the ride now and watching Grumpy's expressions was absolutely worth the price of admission. He'd never known eyebrows could be so expressive.
Grumpy didn't last much longer in any case. A few final thrusts and he was done, his head thumping against JIm's shoulder.
"Damn that was hot," Jim gasped.
"Yeah," Grumpy replied, still panting.
"Fuck, Bones," Jim pleaded, "if you don't fucking kiss me right now—"
Bones lifted up his head and kissed Jim for all he was worth and then some.
"Love you so much," Jim whispered.
"Love you too," Bones replied, "even if you did come all over my goddamned shirt."
Jim shrugged. "I'm not sorry."
"Brat," Bones said, easing out of Jim and setting him back down on his feet.
"Yeah, the man who gave me the ring keeps calling me that," Jim joked, slipping into his jeans.
Bones chuckled. "Let's go back to our room, make use of that obscenely large tub."
"Can we do obscene things in it?" Jim asked.
"Of course," Bones said.
Jim grinned. "Man, I love shore leave."
