And so completes my longest ST:XI fic. As some of you know, there is a companion piece developing for this, filling in the gap. I'd never really intended a sequel/companion piece, but darn it, Bones's POV is too impossible to resist. Next week, I'm hoping to post installments but be warned, it'll be long...

Title: Standby 4/4
Author: d8rkmessngr
Fandom: Star Trek: Reboot'verse
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: PG-13, angst, h/c, first time
Words: 23,000+, complete (yup, you read right!)
Summary: He was glad Bones was dating again. He was. Really. But what Jim thought was good for Bones turned out to be oh, so wrong for Jim. For this prompt in

st_xi_kink.
Warnings: implied past abuse, attempted non-con, sap (lol)

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

Additional Warnings: smut, this chapter is NC-17

Despite what Bones said, it wasn't like before. Then again, if Bones did come around acting like nothing had changed, then Jim might have gone nuts and maybe start swatting Spock's ass. (Bet Nyota would have liked that.)

Two days of junior medics meekly handing in shift reports, two days of eating meals alone (it was then Jim realized how often they ate together in the Mess or in his quarters) and hearing Bones only through the coms like a ghost wandering the corridors. Jim had about enough. He wasn't sure why it was suddenly a big deal that Bones wasn't standing around in the Bridge, grumbling as usual. Or that every time Jim said something he thought was funny, his chest clenched every time he glanced over and Bones wasn't there. Jim should march into Sickbay and...and...

And what?

Jim idly sat in his command chair and watched the muddy brown planet spin languidly on its axis on screen. They were still orbiting the planet of bug people because they needed to retrieve the dead scientists, try to find all of them, because their families need something to bury under carved tombstones inscribed with "Beloved (Fill-In the Blank)".

His throat worked and he couldn't help but glance at the black beyond the planet and think about exploding starships and atomized corpses. Jim abruptly stood up and gave Spock the con and entered (escaped) his ready room. He sat down behind his desk and stared blankly at the walls of his ready room and thought how cool it might be to have some fish.

His mind was jumping like those antique pachinko machines. He thought about how the stone surface cut his cheek, how he couldn't distinguish faces in the death pit they found, how brick walls are cold against his back, how when Bones smiled his eyes seemed to get greener, how the callus on Bones's left thumb against his skin made the pit of his stomach warm and...

"Sickbay. McCoy here," Bones answered tiredly.

Jim blinked. He hadn't realized he'd activated the com.

"Hello?"

"He looked nothing like me," Jim blurted out. "And he called you Leonard like you were some old fart and...and...he was too slimy looking." Okay, that last one wasn't true.

There was a pregnant pause on the other end. Jim's left knee bounced under his desk.

There was a rustle, Bones distantly telling someone he was going into his office and the distinct beep of a channel transferring to a more private line.

"What the hell, Jim?" Bones hissed.

"Oh," Jim said weakly. "Were you busy?"

Bones's response was really impolite.

Jim scratched his desk lightly with his fingers. He watched his fingerprint, a heated smudge on the polished surface fade until there was nothing left. Jim gulped.

"Jim?" Bones asked, suddenly quiet, low like he was crouched by his ear again in a dark bathroom, trying to tug him back to the here and now.

Jim breathed out slowly.

"I don't think I want things to be like before," Jim muttered. He rubbed his hands on his thighs.

"Oh." Bones fell silent. Seconds later, he cleared his throat.

"Want me to transfer?"

"No!" Jim startled himself by jumping to his feet.

Bones sounded surprised enough to stammer. "Okay, then what?"

Jim shot his com an irritated look. "I don't know."

There was a sigh. "Me neither, Jim."

And that pretty much summed up how fucked up this was.

The next time, after their 'talk' (Jim counted it as a talk even though decks lay between them), things between them went a little better.

Sort of.

"If you step in front of another charging, rabid, horned quadruped beast thing to save some foolish ensign who should have known better than to mess with its nest, I'm not patching you up again."

Jim hissed as Bones splayed a hand to brace his left shoulder blade while he rubbed a thumb into the spot where the ball joint met socket. Nurse Trip winced in sympathy, batted her brown eyes at him and passed Bones a hypospray like she just fluttered over a veil. She missed Bones rolling his eyes, didn’t get why Jim sputtered out a laugh.

The rest of the away team had already been treated and released. It always felt like Bones saved him best for last even though Bones always treated him first, often hypospray in hand, waiting in the transporter room as soon as he’d beamed aboard. CMO's priority is to the ship's captain, he supposed.

"Ouch," Jim griped, mostly because he was trapped here and his First Officer still had the conn. He could only imagine the glee Spock was feeling as acting captain, rubbing his hands together thinking of all the logical ways he could do the captainly duties. In a very non-gleeful Vulcan way, of course.

Bones pursed his lips as he prodded the joint. He kept frowning, making Jim think maybe it was a lot worse than he thought, but then again, Bones always acted like that.

Jim fidgeted. Bones had very warm hands that seemed to brand his skin even through his uniform. He used to get a funny feeling in his gut whenever Bones had put those hands on Adam because it was just weirdfuckedupbizarre to see Bones with that guy.

"It's not dislocated. I know what that feels like," Jim mumbled, a little lightheaded by the sudden déjà vu that smacked him upside the head. Bones furrowed his brow. He’d made the connection too and guilt made him clear his throat and avert his eyes.

The corner of Jim's right eye twitched. Even now, Adam intruded. Jim was surprised at a rage he hadn't felt since he was thirteen, clutching the wheel of an antique car, steering for a quarry.

"Get a lot of those, do you, sir?" Nurse Trip teased, flirted and despite the bile that wanted to come up Jim's mouth, he smiled faintly back even as his shoulder throbbed.

"All my life," Jim joked weakly, thankful his voice was steady but Bones still gave Jim a meaningful look, a look everyone else around them might read as exasperation but read as something else entirely for Jim. And when no one was paying attention to them, Bones slipped a hand over his knee and gave it a brief squeeze. Jim thanked him with a curt nod. He didn't dare do anything more.

Jim found himself leaning towards Bones. He blinked, disconcerted, when Bones backed away to tell Nurse Trip to get something Jim couldn't pronounce. Jim watched Bones, his legs swinging over the edge of the biobed as he chewed his lower lip.

The past few months on the ship had slipped them into a new normal that echoed the Academy and despite what happened days before, Bones seemed to slip back into the role (Jim just couldn’t seem to get back into his). This was what they did, now. Jim did all the things a captain needed to do to protect his ship and Bones bitched about Jim doing his job. And Bones was his usual acerbic self as always, as personable as a porcupine yet he always looked at Jim with a silent query before doing anything that might invite a bad memory. Because Bones knew. Not everything, but more than Jim had let anyone ever know about him. And Bones was still around despite all he'd learned.

That was good, right? He liked Bones as a friend. Three years in the Academy and Jim had gotten so used to the fact that Bones was going to be a constant in his life, he could barely remember a time when Bones wasn't. It was something that still set his insides twisting because acknowledging it, getting used to it, could only jinx it.

Bones tsked as he waved his tricorder at Jim.

"And when were you going to tell me about that broken finger?" Bones grumbled as he lowered his tricorder.

Jim lifted his right hand up. He swung his hand a bit and grimaced when his index finger's bones slid the wrong way.

"Oh. Forgot."

"Forgot, my ass. You'll wander around the ship bleeding all over the place until someone mentions it. I ought to tag you and..."

Jim studied the top of Bones's head as his friend went on and on even as he held Jim's injured hand carefully with his right, the bone mender humming in his left as it floated over his hand.

This was Bones, Jim thought. This was the same. They were, just like before.

So why was Jim staring at his mouth, wondering if Bones still tasted like coffee?

Bones still obsessed with what Jim put in his mouth.

....

Okay, why did his gut feel funny thinking that just now?

"At least it's green," Bones muttered as he speared a broccoli and chomped down on it like it was a carrot. He scanned the Mess behind Jim as if he could see a germ coming.

Jim's mouth snapped shut and he considered the thin slivers of green flecked with red chili flakes. Whatever it was, it was spicy, crunchy and dripping with something sweet so Jim forgave it of its possible origins.

"It's good," Jim mumbled as he shoveled another forkful in his mouth. He nodded solemnly as Scotty darted by to grab yet another sandwich (third so far this shift) because the engineer claimed working in the engine room gave him an appetite.

"Dammit, Jim, were you raised in a barn? Keep your mouth closed." Bones made a face, nudged Jim's tea closer to him. "Wash that down with this."

"Thought you want my mouth closed," Jim remarked, smirking as he drank. No beer, just smelly tea because Bones was currently concerned with a new strain of strep throat going around engineering. Jim was allergic to the vaccine. Big surprise.

Bones glowered, pushed the bitter tea closer towards Jim, and went back to his eggplant whatever thing he tried to get Jim to order instead of the medium rare burger. The medium rare was a compromise since their second year. Bones thought Jim should eat meat well done; Jim wanted it to still be mooing.

Jim watched Bones cut up his eggplant into neat little pieces, always a surgeon, and he absently thought about how careful Bones's hands would be on his body. Precise strokes gliding across skin, a nail gently scratching the underside of his co—

"I told you to keep your mouth closed," Bones scolded when Jim sputtered. Jim held up a hand because the last thing he needed was Bones's hand pounding his back.

"Spicy," Jim wheezed and he grabbed his tea and drained his mug and that really didn't help because it tasted like how his tongue got after a hangover.

"For crying out loud."

This time, Bones did pound his back, neatly avoiding the spew of tea as he leapt up to stand over Jim. What made it worse were the scattered crewmen standing up from their seats with growing alarm.

"Okay, okay," Jim wheezed. He wasn't really, but when Bones backed away, everyone returned to their seats, no longer looking like a red alert was just issued.

"Better?" Bones had his damn tricorder out again. Always with that tricorder. Did Bones sleep with it? Oh, that was a thought he shouldn't have had.

"Your body temp's up three degrees," Bones noted. "Not surprising after choking on seaweed salad."

Jim eyed the green death trap on his tray with disgust now. "Well, I lost my appetite," Jim grumbled.

Bones scoffed as he dropped down back into his seat. "Good. You wouldn't want me to perform mouth to mouth over seaweed anyway."

The memory of stubble against his jaw floated over him and his mouth went dry. Jim smiled weakly. "Yeah, wouldn't want that."

Liar, liar.

He still tasted blood when he woke up for the fifth time two evenings later and it wasn't clear whose name was stuck in his throat, whether he was warning him or her back, or pleading for them to come forward. He stared into the dark, his voice too dry, too raw to form the command for the lights. In the dark, his memories tasting sour in his mouth, Jim couldn't breathe.

Jim found himself standing in Bones's office minutes later, barefoot, his sweats clinging to his sweat-dampened skin. He stood there, staring at Bones's bowed head, hunched over a scope, his fingers drumming the PADD recording his experiment. Jim kept staring, not sure why he was staring in the first place, not sure why he didn't just go back to sleep.

"God, Jim!" Bones yelped when he finally looked up and he reared back, a hand grabbing his chest. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I'm the only doctor on duty this shift!" Bones narrowed his eyes when he got a better look at Jim.

"What?"

Jim opened his mouth, closed it then suddenly became very aware of the fact that the sweatpants he currently wore hadn't fit him right since Adam put him in the hospital for a second time, since Bones told Jim that he wouldn't be able to get rid of Bones that easily, since Frank showed up in his head after...after...

"I can't sleep," Jim blurted out and damn it, he sounded five except he'd never sounded like that even when he was five. His brother used to clamp his mouth shut, hissing to him to shut his whining before he woke Frank up.

Bones said nothing about Jim reverting to an age Jim never truly knew. He studied Jim, an unreadable expression on his face and there was this weird, cold feeling that Bones was going to suddenly say that he'd never believed Jim after all.

"I never liked Adam. I don't know why, but I didn't ever since you two were—I mean...I just didn't like him," Jim stumbled out next. He froze. What the fuck was with his verbal diarrhea tonight? Jim snorted in self-disgust and turned away.

"You know what? Never mind. I—" Jim blinked when Bones suddenly appeared next to him.

Bones didn't smile, didn't frown but he looked at Jim like he knew what Jim was going to say even if Jim didn't know himself. That's how it always was. Sometimes Jim never even had to say anything. Damn annoying. It was like Bones was perched at his shoulder.

"Bad?" Bones rumbled because this had happened too many times before to waste time on questions anymore.

Jim shrugged. Suddenly, he realized what a weak ass he must look like, standing in the middle of the room. He stood up taller and coughed.

"Look, got bored, figured I'd come in here and see what you're doing." Jim grinned as wide as he could. "Figured that would put me to sleep."

The corner of Bones's mouth quirked. "That bad, huh?"

Jim was grateful Bones didn't at least ask who it was this time. The fact that there was a list was bad enough.

"I could give you a sed—"

"No," Jim said sharply and he jerked away from Bones's steadying grip. "I just—I just couldn't sleep so I thought I would—"

"Come and make sure I don't get anything done." Bones rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. Every exam time you were popping up everywhere to make my life miserable."

Jim's smile faded but then Bones shook his elbow with a snort to show he was kidding.

"Cot or chair?" Bones murmured, sobering. He nodded towards the narrow bed Bones often used during long shifts behind his chair, when leaving Sickbay meant giving up on a patient.

Jim's shoulders sagged. "Chair," he yawned.

"Cot it is," Bones, as usual, cheerfully vetoed Jim. He smirked as he steered Jim to the cot and all but pushed him on it, grinning when Jim fell into the flimsy furniture with an oof.

"Just who's captain of this ship anyway?" Jim grumbled.

"Luckily, it isn't me," Bones declared as he tossed a pillow towards Jim's head. "You snore and I'm throwing water on you again."

"I don't snore," Jim growled half-heartedly and he glowered at Bones because second year, when Bones poured water over him, the fucking bucket was cold. He dropped with a disgruntled face as he laid across the cot. He stared at Bones's back from his new position. Bones never said anything else, just returned to his research. Were the lights dimmer now, though?

Jim thought about how many times he woke up to find Bones hunched over a PADD in their dorm room, across in his bed, never commenting about how Jim would suddenly sit up, gasping for air. Bones would just sit there, reading under his breath until Jim went right back to a dreamless sleep. It wasn't every day (he would fucking go insane if it was), but enough times that it was almost automatic between them the longer they stayed roommates.

"Was it Adam?" Bones asked quietly. He never turned around.

Jim folded his hands behind his head. He didn't know how to say he simply didn't know so he just grunted.

Bones sighed. "Hell, I am sorry, Jim."

"Wasn't your fault," Jim murmured as he watched Bones's shoulders sag, then straighten. "You can't help having bad taste in men—well, excluding me."

There was a snort.

Jim ran the tip of his tongue across his lower lip. He stared at the neckline of Bones's blue uniform.

"Is this enough though?" Jim asked hesitantly. He blinked at the blurry profile swiveling around to him. "Right now? I mean, you dated Adam because—"

"It is," Bones interrupted harshly as if he didn't want to hear the rest. "How about you? You okay about this? We okay?"

Jim yawned and thought he felt a hand on his hair. Mm. Jim shrugged deeper into the cot.

"Sure," Jim slurred but wasn't sure why it felt like a lie. "I don't want you to go because of this," he mumbled. Jim grimaced because it sounded pathetic out loud.

"Go where? We're in space and Sulu's driving wherever you point." This time, Jim was sure he felt a hand in his hair. "I told you. I'm staying so long as you're okay about all this."

"’m okay." Jim tried to widen his eyes. "I just didn't like Adam."

"So you told me. Honestly, I don't blame you after what he tried."

"No, I mean...before...before..." Jim's tongue felt thick and stuck to the roof of his mouth. Jim blinked blearily up at Bones. "He said I was leading him on." Jim turned his head and pressed his cheek to the pillow that smelled faintly like Bones. It loosened his tongue further.

"Maybe I did," Jim confessed and his chest tightened. "I wasn't exactly a shy sort of guy."

Bones sighed. He turned completely around and rested his elbows on his knees as he studied Jim.

"No," Bones agreed, "you're definitely not shy." His voice deepened. "But that doesn't excuse him for what he tried to do," Bones blew out sharply. He shook his head.

"Get some sleep, Jim."

Jim watched Bones with half-mast eyes and a stirring in his chest he hadn't felt in a long time. "I should go back to my quarters," Jim slurred.

Bones shrugged as he turned back around. "Go right ahead."

"This bed sucks," Jim added with a lisp at the end.

"Uh huh."

"And it smells funny."

Bones snorted.

"Maybe just a few minutes though," Jim yawned. "Keep you company. Gamma shift sucks."

"Thanks," Bones drawled.

"Mm," Jim murmured as his eyes drifted shut. His limbs tensed, readying for yet another night visitor but then he felt something warm and heavy draped over him. He felt himself smile, thought he could see Bones in his mind and he relaxed into a dreamless sleep. This time, Jim fully expected to see Bones when he woke up and oddly enough, that was okay.

It was a total of nine days and two hours later before Jim finally had his epiphany. Two hours because that's how long he stared at Adam's photo and the file the computer had pulled up in his quarters after his shift. It was like that missing line of code slotted in and suddenly, everything made sense. Holy shit.

A quick punch of keys, a few short beeps and Jim strode through as soon as Bones's door slid open. The great thing about being captain was the master code he got that unlocked everything.

"I figured out why I didn't like Adam," Jim declared by way of entering. "He—" He skidded to a halt.

"Jim!" Bones bellowed, which was pretty impressive considering he stood there in only a tiny towel, dark hair still dripping wet. "What the hell?"

"Oh," Jim bleated. His knees wobbled. He stared at the defined torso that twisted around to grab a pair of clean shorts and sweatpants from the bed.

"It's not like we never walked in on each other before," Jim protested faintly. He averted his eyes, though, as Bones pulled up his briefs and Jim tried to keep his eyes on the ceiling but after a peek (he just wanted to see if Bones was done, that's all), Jim was riveted to the muscular ass now in front of him as Bones hurriedly hopped into his pants.

"That was before!" Bones seemed to have trouble getting his right leg through completely and his jumping did interesting things in front of Jim.

"B-before?" Jim swallowed, his mouth dry because really, he knew Bones was fit (he wasn't lying about walking in on each other back then), but shit.

"Before we..." Bones balanced on one leg, kicking out the other furiously. "Damn it!"

"Want some help?" Jim offered weakly.

Bones froze and glared at him through a flop of wet hair and oh, God, Jim felt a stirring deep in his belly.

"What couldn't wait," Bones growled as he shimmied—fuck—into the sweatpants with a lazy roll of hips that made Jim a little lightheaded, "until I was properly dressed?"

"Well, don't get dressed up on my account," Jim quipped and he hoped the grin he gave wasn't too hysterical.

Bones scoffed. "I never do." He tugged the pants past his hips, yanked at the tie strings and he gestured at Jim as he grabbed a t-shirt Jim recognized from back in the Academy.

"Go on. You were about to share with me some of that patented Jim Kirk wisdom." Bones was muffled as he stuck his head into his top.

"I said I know why I hated Adam now," Jim said as he stared at Bones's exposed stomach and the light sprinkle of hair pointing downwards in invitation. His Adam's apple bobbed and he forced himself to stare past Bones's shoulder.

Bones's head popped through the neckline. "You mean besides the fact he was a bastard who couldn't take no for an answer?"

Jim made a face, partially because of Adam, partially because Bones was now slipping on socks.

"No, because he was dating you." Jim grinned because, hey, big revelation and he hadn't felt this...high since space diving the very first time. He was the only one in his class who didn't vomit inside his helmet after twenty five thousand feet.

"You mean because I was dating him," Bones corrected as he vigorously scrubbed his hair dry with a towel.

Jim's smile faded. Come on, Bones, try and keep up.

"No," Jim said slowly, "because he was dating you."

The towel froze, hiding Bones's face.

"Oh."

"Oh?" Jim bristled. "That's it? I just told you—"

"I know what you just told me," Bones huffed as he padded over to his desk and grabbed the bourbon he got from Scotty after beating his ass in poker. Jim's brow rose when Bones poured himself a generous amount and gulped it down in one shot. Bones hissed at the burn, waved his empty glass at Jim.

"So you're telling me..."

"I didn't like that he was dating you." Jim shrugged. "This was before we knew he was an ass, before...everything. I didn't like him way before that. Now I know why."

Bones stared at Jim, then poured himself another glass which he downed just as quickly.

Jim scowled. "You know, I rather you stay sober for this conversation, Bones."

"I'm not drunk," Bones wheezed. "Not yet. Damn it, Jim. Look I know that kiss had bothered you—"

"It didn't," Jim cut him off.

"Huh?"

Jim gestured towards Bones, then himself. "I mean, it should, right? I think I was more bothered by the fact that I wasn't bothered by it." Jim took a deep breath.

"I want to give this a try, Bones." Jim grinned at him. "Us two."

Bones gaped at him, his throat working before he opened his mouth and hoarsely said, "No."

No? Jim scowled at Bones. He wasn't expecting Bones to fling his arms around Jim (that would have been weird), but he thought that Bones would be happy, at least.

"Jim, you're—I don't know what the hell you're thinking—but you've never wanted this thing before."

"I didn't know we had this thing before," Jim argued.

Bones's eyebrows shot up in an “ah hah" expression. "Exactly. So what? Now you're interested? Just like that?" Bones dropped to the edge of his bed, glass at hand. He shook his head at Jim.

"Things don't happen like that, Jim."

Now Jim needed a drink. He poured himself a glass and refilled Bones's before continuing.

"It wasn't 'just like that'," Jim said, sobering. He sat down next to Bones and stared into his glass.

"Look, you...you're my best friend," Jim tried, "you are the one person who really did stick around and...I...I trust you, Bones." Jim blinked. Actually, he did. Huh.

"Thanks," Bones rasped. He bumped shoulders with Jim. Jim nudged him back.

"I think there was always something there," Jim went on, haltingly, "but I didn't really know what it was until now."

"And that is?" Bones prodded.

Jim squirmed. Being called out by the Council about his third Kobayashi Maru was easier.

"I think of you as more than just my best friend," Jim confessed, his voice dropping to a whisper, "but Bones, I really don't know what it is because inside me." Jim opened his hands, his glass sloshing as he waved his hands helplessly. He swallowed. "I'm just so screwed up, I know that. Ship, being here in space, it gets better, but I know I'm not...I'm not there yet. I...I don't know what to call it, but I do know I want more between us." Jim dared to raise his eyes at Bones.

Bones stared at Jim for a long time, studying him as if peeling away the layers. He turned back and took a sip of bourbon, rolled it around his mouth before he laughed to himself.

"What?"

"Damn it, I shouldn't, but yeah, all right, let's give this a try. We shouldn't, hell, I was finally convinced that it would never happen but okay."

Jim's mouth curved. "Yeah?"

Bones scoffed. He still looked a little like he was in disbelief, but he was smiling. "Yeah." He shook his head and tilted his glass back.

Jim watched that throat work as he swallowed. He gave Bones's bed a tentative bounce, waited, his knee jittering until finally:

"So you gonna fuck me or what?"

Luckily, Bones wasn't facing him when he choked on his drink.

"What?" Bones managed as he dropped his glass to the floor and grabbed his nose. "Christ that burns—What?" Bones glared at Jim with bloodshot eyes.

Jim grinned sheepishly and waggled his eyebrows as he patted the bed.

"Dammit, Jim. When you said give it a try, I thought you meant like a date or something, not a fucking test drive!" Bones glowered at Jim, his hands still clamped over his nose.

Even nasally, Bones still managed to sound annoyed. "Do you know what a waste of good bourbon that was going up my nose?"

Jim winced. He gave Bones an easy smile but Bones still looked ready to rampage.

"Sorry, hey, we've been hanging out all this time, like doing everything, doesn't that count as dating already? I mean—what are you doing?" Jim started when Bones leaned forward.

Bones huffed as he scowled. "Will you hold still, damn it? I'm trying to kiss you but not if you're twitching like you have the Rigillean shak—mmpf!"

It was decided, Jim thought, that since Bones had instigated the first kiss, it was only fair that Jim started this one. Before Bones could continue his rant, Jim surged forward, their glasses tumbling to the floor and sealed his mouth over Bones's, his hands already greedily cupping the back of his head, fingers tangled in still damp hair.

Bones tensed at first, but with a rumble that originated deep within his throat and vibrated into Jim to pool in his belly, he pressed forward. His mouth was possessive, demanding, scraping teeth across Jim's lower lip, his warm hands mapping Jim's back with sure touches that thrummed down Jim's spine.

And Jim didn't whimper when Bones's hands snaked over to grip his thighs, his thumbs massaging deep into his thighs to coax them to part. Jim also didn't moan Bones's name when he felt surgeon's hands, sure and confident to the point of arrogance, slipping into his snug trousers to cup his buttocks.

Somewhere, somehow, Jim found himself on his back, his trousers bunched around his ankles, trying to match thrust for thrust against Bones as his cock glided against his, hot, rigid and leaking. Jim didn't whimper again when he felt a finger ghost his entrance, circling the tight opening with such a tease. Jim slammed up his hips, crashing against Bones's erection hard enough that Bones groaned his name.

Jim felt fingers tracing his mouth, his collarbone, down the ridged indents of his ribs before curling around his cock and damn it, that callus on Bones's thumb rubbed over the head of his cock, his other fingers grasping him firmly as Jim arched his back.

"I got you, I got you," Bones drawled as he pumped Jim with a sure pace as if he’d done this with Jim a thousand times, his other hand slipping underneath to caress the sensitive entrance with a finger before breaching, preparing, torturing.

Jim groaned out something that could have been "bastard" but ended up being a hungry "Bones" as he felt himself stretched, filled and something just fucking clicked when Bones slid in completely, chest against chest, mouth now breathing hot and moist on his throat.

Even as his head spun, Jim managed to move his legs up, locked his ankles behind Bones's still-damp back and pull him in, a silent demand for more. Bones obliged, if not directly to his request, his eyes glazed as he rocked into Jim's body, his mouth set in concentration as if he was trying to memorize each stroke, each touch.

Jim's body ached with the initial burn. Then he grew heady with the sensation of being sealed into another life and wanted, cherished, devoured. He jerked when Bones pulled back, rejoiced when the pain/pleasure returned in full force.

Jim snaked a hand between them and when Bones groaned at Jim's touch, Jim felt it deep within him. He was sure even Bones could feel it, humming, vibrating his body like an instrument. But that was all forgotten when Bones began rolling his hips, hitting a new angle that had Jim convulsing with the need for more.

"Mine," Jim panted as he pulled Bones's head lower. Bones grunted in agreement even as he picked up his pace and ohgodharderdeeperdon'tevergo flared under Jim's skin and it felt like he was boiling. Jim pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses down Bones's throat, a hardened nipple, his left bicep, any place he could reach as they rocked across the bed, too tangled into each other to part.

Heat collected in Jim's groin as Bones's hips snapped forward, diving deeper and harder into Jim, harder still at Jim's gasped encouragements, faster as Jim palmed Bones's ass, holding on as each stroke lifted him off the bed and higher to oblivion.

"Mine," Bones hissed, partially because he was breathless, mostly to voice the triumphant gleam that darkened his eyes as he stared at Jim. "Mine, dammit," Bones grunted and he punctuated his claim with one final push that slapped Jim against the bed, sent bolts of heat into Jim and it felt like Bones nailed him into the bed, forbidding him to go.

Jim came wordlessly, his fingers drawing blood as they dug into Bones's shoulders. His body clenched, Bones gasped and heat flooded inside Jim, painting him, marking him.

Mine, Jim thought drowsily as Bones collapsed on top of him, heaving, half-slurred obscenities breathed out into the shell of his ear. Jim pressed his flushed face against Bones's brow. He licked the line of sweat trailing down the profile of a face Jim had always known, never realized he knew but was sure he would be content (he dared to think it was possible to feel that way) to study this profile forever.

"To think," Jim said low, husky as he drew a lazy smirk against Bones's ear, "if you weren't such an idiot back then, we could have had the best sex in the fucking universe for over two years now."

Bones, still winded, huffed against his throat. "Got a lot..." Bones panted, "to make up for...two years, huh?"

Jim rubbed a strand of dark bangs between two fingers and was tempted to taste it.

"You think you might stick around for that?" Jim asked casually.

There was a heated hardness pressed against his thigh, a dark smile, sly hands slipping down his body and Jim felt something uncoil deep in his chest.

"Try to keep me away," Bones whispered before he descended down to seal his mouth over Jim's in promise.

The End (Companion Piece: "Reinventing Pavlov" Starts Next Friday 07.31.09)

Author's Acknowledgment: Thank you,

iceiwynd for beta-ing this again and again and again…LOL. And for

votaku, who despite this fic's crazy posting at the meme, saw fit to rec this. Thanks hon! Of course, I must also thank

tooright99 because without this great prompt, this fic never would have existed!

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From:

meewunk.livejournal.com

I am going to fail a test in 30 minutes because of this fic, but that's alright by meeee! <3

From:

...love in any form always beat the darkness

Fic: Standby (Slash, Star Trek XI, Kirk/McCoy, PG-13, 4/4)

I LOVE YOU!

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