Title: Your Turn To Burn Fandom: Star Trek XI Rating: NC-17 Pairing: Jim Kirk/ Leonard McCoy Summary:

That scarf's like lingere for the throat. Content Advisory: Slash, sex, bondage. No actual fire. That's about it. Acknowledgements: <lj user="affectingly">, who knows what she did, and <lj comm="jim_and_bones"> for providing <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/jim_and_bones/380735.ht ml ">inspiration</a>. <i>Disclaimer:</i> This fanwork has been created for pleasure only and not for profit. Title from "The Statue Got Me High", for no good reason. <lj-cut text="Jim shouldn&#39;t do this. He really shouldn&#39;t do this. "> Jim shouldn't do this. He really shouldn't do this. It is, in textbook terms, an abuse of power, or it would be if he and Bones fit in any textbook, if he had any power here over Bones that Bones doesn't hold over him in return. Besides, he's supposed to leap without looking every so often, that's why Pike dragged him by the ear into Starfleet, right? And this reception's boring enough to make a man want to dive into the nearby stream, except for Bones cutting a swath through the crowd he doesn't even notice. Thank God for civvies and leave and Bones wandering the plaza looking just fucking edible, not least in that scarf. It's like lingerie for his throat, Jim thinks, teasingly draped over most of its strong length, framing his chin, swathing his adam's apple like the kind of wrapper that absolutely

<i>needs</i> to be peeled away. Jim shrugs off his conscience, catches Bones by the elbow, and whispers urgently in his ear, "Come with me?" "Got a call from the ship? From the Academy?" Bones turns towards him in instant agreement, eyebrows crinkling together like kissing caterpillars, and Jim sends desperate commands to his dick to wait just a <i>little</i> longer because he needs to be able to <i>walk</i>. He makes a noncommittal noise, not <i>really</i> a lie, smiling at the other concertgoers as he leads Bones out of the main reception and through a service door. Across the hall there's a maintenance closet, score, and better yet it's just about empty, little more than three walls, a lightstrip, a manual door and a thinly carpeted floor. "Jim," Bones rumbles as Jim propels him inside, wariness surfacing in his voice, "did you drag me away from a perfectly nice reception just to--" "Yep," Jim agrees brightly as he tugs the door shut, wedging the doorstop into the hinge with the heel of his boot, and grins headon into Bones's stormy glare. Bones opens his mouth, full lips stretching wide to let out some considerable volume, but time's of the essence and Jim's absolutely aching against his fly, so he runs right over what would otherwise be an impressive rant with, "Bones, you trust me?" Bones blinks, mouth still open, lips dark and soft-looking in the dim automatic light; Jim's own mouth is fucking watering, it seems to take forever before Bones says, "Yeah, kid, but we can't just --"

"Then we can," Jim counters, plastering his chest against Bones's, swallowing his objections in a kiss as he winds one hand in that scarf. Bones rumbles at him and bites his lip petulantly, and Jim chuckles against his mouth and folds his hand around Bones's wrist as he tilts his head into it and drags the scarf down. He pours everything into the kiss, openmouthed and sweet and dirty, and Bones growls and leans into it, his arm tensing to reach up. Jim grabs both his wrists, winding the scarf around them while Bones is busy going rigid with shock. And interest, to judge by the sudden press of his covered cock against Jim's thigh. He's still Bones, though, and when Jim eases out of the kiss, even though his arms go lax as Jim knots the scarf, he snarls, all sharpened eyebrows and hard glints, "What the hell, Jim, this isn't funny--" "I'm not joking," Jim says as evenly as he can, making a private note to let Bones rant to his heart's content once they're in bed. For now, though, they can only hide in limbo so long. "Do you trust me," he asks again, and Bones unscrunches his nose and undaggers his glare and looks at Jim with honest, dark eyes. "Yeah," he says simply, "yes, I do." So Jim smiles, takes a step back, and gently pushes Bones to his knees, glorying in the sight of him, his hair swept over his forehead, his head tipped back on that long, strong neck, his jacket and shirt collars splayed open to display the notched base of his throat. Jim sets his forefingertip on that notch and runs it up Bones's throat, sliding his palm over Bones's cheek as they lock eyes, and finally unfastening his pants.

Bones rolls his eyes, but he gives Jim one wide flicker of a dirty grin before leaning forward and sucking him in, pushing right on down until Jim's balls bump his chin. The shock of pleasure hits like the galaxy's best slap, tingling outwards under Jim's skin as he gasps, and he has to slam his palm against the wall to keep from pitching forward as he moans the jumble of curses falling out of his emptying head. "Fuck, fuck, holy fucking shit," he finally lands on, the comforting vulgarities of his first language, "Oh my fuck, how could I keep my hands off you?" and Bones rumbles vibration around him, probably thinking <i>Shut it</i>, but Jim cannot stop babbling as fire surges through him and Bones's tongue flexes around him. "If you could've seen yourself strutting through the crowd, everyone watching my hot doctor pass them by --" Bones snorts skeptically and swallows hard, rippling hot and wet, and Jim chokes on a laugh and pushes his hand up Bones's heated temple and into his silky hair. "No bullshit," he gasps, bursts of words between ragged breaths, "seriously, I told you before, Bones, you look good enough to fucking eat, all I wanted to do, all I could think about, was pinning you to the wall, ripping off that scarf, hickeying you from shoulder to chin, you don't even know, how much goddamn <i>self control</i> it took, for me to get you in here." Bones bangs his forehead against Jim's stomach as hard as he can, which isn't very, with a just centimeter or so of clearance. Jim coughs up another laugh, knocked out of his tensing belly, his fingers crimping into Bones's hair. "You're beyond hot, incandescent, the fucking heart of a star, I just want to, everything, fuck, I want to do <i>everything</i> with you, <i>Bones,</i>" and Jim's teeth chatter together as the heat pooling in his belly gathers towards a surge. "Bones, Bones,

Bones," he groans between his clenched teeth, his hips stuttering as he struggles to restrain his thrusts, and Bones moans into him as he starts to come in pulses of searing bliss. Jim manages not to shout, manages not to collapse, pulls from between Bones's clinging pillowy lips as he totters backwards; he thunks against the door and bounces himself off it at the right angle to let his unstrung legs dump him beside rather than atop his gasping Bones. "Jim," Bones rasps, gravelly-hoarse, as Jim gathers his face in both hands, and absolutely lunges into a gloriously sloppy kiss, bitter-salty and luscious. Jim squeezes himself against Bones, tugging on Bones's nape as he scrabbles Bones's pants open and wriggles his fingers in. As soon as he's got Bones's dick out he pulls back, or tries to, thinking of licking his fingers and getting to it, but Bones moans when he lets go, tilting high and almost pained, and Jim can't make himself pull out of the kiss. Shoving his fingers between their mouths ends up being spectacularly messy, and Jim licks Bones's upper lip as Bones grumbles toothily. "Ow, ow," Jim laughs, tugging his fingers away from Bones's teeth sinking into them. "Ow, I need those." "Ow my ass," Bones gripes, still raspy and breathless and laughing too, "Christ almighty, Jim," as Jim curls his wet hand around him, "Ow my <i>face</i>, you mouthfucker." Jim nuzzles under Bones's chin, licks down the side of his throat as he shudders under fast twisting strokes, and bites him slowly to feel him buck and squirm and cry out. "Jim!" is the only intelligible word Bones manages between groans as Jim alternates slow sucking and long licks, as Jim jacks the whole rigid hot length of him.

Eventually Bones whimpers, which is just so fucking sweet Jim grins against the blood-hot bruise he's just chewed into Bones's neck. Eventually he groans, "Kiss me, damn it, please kiss me," and Jim lifts his head, absolutely intending to until Bones pants thickly, "Ain't no way I can stay quiet, Jim, the whole damn party's gonna hear me." And that's just too good to muffle. Jim answers Bones's openmouthed lunge with a peck on the plush bottom lip, hauls himself back again and ducks behind Bones's ear, murmuring, "You can do it, Bones, I know you can." Bones makes his whimper sound profane as Jim licks back down to the sensitized patch of skin, and when he breathes on it as he speeds up his strokes just a bit, Bones groans through gritted teeth and bangs his head on the wall, he twitches in Jim's fingers and comes in his hold, spilling over his hand up to the wrist. "Told you," Jim murmurs against Bones's ear as he lifts his hand to Bones's lips, and they cooperatively lick it pretty well clean, tangling their tongues as they do. Jim sucks his cuff until it's damp only with spit, then reaches to untie Bones's hands as he leans in for an unimpeded kiss. Bones twists his hands free, grabs Jim's head and tilts it forcibly as he kisses Jim so hard his lips buzz, and Jim chuckles and grips his wrists and lets him. Bones growls as he kisses, right up until he pushes Jim back the length of his nose and snarls, "I can<i>not</i> believe you! James T. Kirk, starship captain and exhibitionist!" Jim could point out that no one can actually <i>see</i> them in here, but instead he does up his pants as Bones grips his shoulders, eyes bulging a little as

the pent-up rant tumbles out. "Anyone could've walked in here and found two senior officers of Starfleet's flagship engaged in flagrant public fucking! Everyone's going to see us reel out of here all sticky and rucked up and me with this gigantic lovebite blaring off my neck! What in the name of everything holy and careeradvancing were you thinking, you walking hormone?" "I told you," Jim points out quite reasonably, watching Bones's eyebrows twitch and feeling his hands tremble as Jim palms his damp cock and gently tucks it away. "I was thinking about how incredibly hot you are," he continues, pulling the scarf back up to wrap it around Bones's neck, hiding the hickey. He thinks briefly of kissing it goodbye, but every moment they linger pushes their luck further. "Unbelievable," Bones snaps, shoving himself to his feet, but he gives Jim a hand up and hangs on when Jim's standing too. "We'd better get going, now that you've made us both completely unpresentable." Jim grins with every last little bit of accomplished pride, even wider when Bones rolls his eyes as he stomps the doorstop out of the door and wrenches it open. Jim follows him out, matching him stride for stride, and they almost get away without incident. Almost; one of the attendants sees them and her eyes go wide as she says, "Oh! I thought you'd left! I told--" "You're right," Jim says smiling as he listens to Bones huff beside him. "We have." He restrains the snicker as he passes her and all the way to the taxi stand, merely looks up at the evening sky and listens to Bones's grumpy huffing beside him.

Eventually Bones mutters, "Just you wait till I get you home, kid." "Will you tie me up with your scarf?" Jim asks, quite innocently, as he flags down a taxi. At the edge of Jim's vision, Bones shakes his head, but Jim knows he heard that deep chuckle.