Author: Insomniac Abroad
Word Count: 1360
Summary: After a particularly disastrous mission, Len and Jim remind themselves who belongs to whom.
Notes: Written with the prompts light bondage and writing by hand in mind.
From what Jim could tell, he’d had his hands bound with a long scarf, which had then been hooked somewhere above his head. He stood with his feet flat on the floor, shoulders just barely overextended, and felt Len remove his pants and underwear with barely a word.
“Are you going to take the blindfold off?” Jim asked quietly.
Len paused for a moment. “Not until I’m done,” he replied.
They’d lost too many today. Too many empty bunks in the junior officer’s quarters, and too many occupied beds in sickbay, and all because some Starfleet bigwig wouldn’t accept the fact that they wouldn’t gain dilithium mining rights. After the surviving members of the landing party were finally stabilized, Len had shown up in Jim’s quarters and they had fallen into this routine, just like they always did after especially difficult days.
Len stood in front of Jim and traced his hands gently down the length of his arms, before sliding back up and caressing his face.
“Need you, Len…” Jim breathed softly. “Need this.”
“I’ve got you,” Len murmured in reply, dropping his hands to the back of Jim’s neck and resting their foreheads against each other. “Not letting you go, not ever.”
Jim craned forward until his lips met Len’s and kissed him as thoroughly as he could manage. Len responded by pressing forward and slipping his arms around Jim’s back to support him as he ground their rapidly hardening cocks together.
And then he had pulled back and Jim honest-to-god whimpered at the loss of contact, even as he felt his heart swell into his throat in anticipation of what was to come. He listened intently, screwing his eyes shut even beneath the blindfold in an attempt to gauge where precisely Len was as he prepared. The first touch came sooner than he expected, on his left thigh, and made him gasp sharply, sending a tremor through his entire body as he felt cool liquid tracing across his skin in familiar spiky loops. He felt Len’s breath ghost over his hip, imagining that he could hear the faintest whispers of the words being written on him.
After a few moments, there was the popping sound of Len’s knee as he stood up and moved to stand in front of Jim, now working on his chest. For the next hour, Jim’s world shrank until it was no larger than the two of them, just breath and gasps and the sensation of the paste being applied to his skin.
Finally—finally—Len stood up and surveyed his work, walking in a circle around Jim and eyeing him so intensely Jim could swear his skin heated up wherever Len’s gaze went.
“Perfect…” Len murmured, barely loud enough for Jim to hear. He reached up and unhooked Jim’s wrists, though he left them bound together. “Come on… walk with me.”
Jim took a hesitant step, hands clutching Len’s wrist tightly. Finding nothing on the floor in his way, he continued carefully moving to what he thought was the other end of the room.
“Close your eyes, baby. I’m taking the blindfold off, but I don’t want you to see just yet,” Len whispered in his ear, standing behind him and untying the black cloth.
They stood still for a moment, Jim straining in anticipation, and then Len whispered “Open,” and those shockingly blue eyes snapped open to see their reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall.
All across Jim’s body, in a dark paste resembling henna, were written the same words over and over: Do not touch: Property of Leonard H. McCoy. Jim inhaled sharply and let out the breath in a long shudder.
“You’re mine, Jim. No one’s taking you away from me, no matter what happens,” Len growled, and nipped sharply just below Jim’s earlobe. “I’m gonna untie those hands of yours but you’re not gonna touch anything. We’re gonna get in the shower and clean you up and you’re not gonna touch yourself or me until I say you can, is that clear?”
“Fuck, Len… whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you want, I’m yours,” Jim panted, practically vibrating with desire. When Len untied the scarf around his wrists he immediately dropped his arms to his sides, fingers twitching in midair as he fought the urge to touch.
“Shower, come on now,” Len instructed, prodding him gently in the small of the back until he began moving. They made their way into the bathroom and Len started the water, eyes still roaming all over Jim’s body. He wondered how it would look if Jim actually got those words tattooed on his skin, instead of the semi-permanent dye they used—gorgeous, of course, but it would make this ritual of theirs obsolete.
The water warmed almost immediately and they stepped into the shower, Jim still with his hands straining at his sides. Len ignored his urgency and instead picked up the sponge and began gently scrubbing off the hardened paste, which left the skin below it stained a deep blue. He circled Jim, carefully cleaning him, until he again stood facing him.
Jim was on him in an instant, pulling their bodies flush together and kissing him deeply beneath the spray. Hands roamed Len’s slick back, finally moving down to grip his ass tightly.
“I need you inside me…” he hissed against Len’s mouth when they pulled apart for breath. “Wanna feel you all over.”
Len kissed him again, but only for a moment before he pulled back to turn off the water. They both shivered at the sudden chill of air on their bodies, quickly leaving the bathroom in favor of the bed, stopping only to grab towels to keep the bedding dry.
The pair collapsed on the bed, Len immediately moving to straddle Jim as he attacked his neck with teeth and tongue. Jim let out a moan and slid one hand down, taking both of them in hand and gently squeezing.
“Come on… fuck me now. I’m all yours. Please, I’ve been waiting for so long,” Jim begged.
Len considered drawing it out even longer, but they both had their limits. He needed to lay claim to this part of Jim as well, and Jim needed to be possessed. He stretched over to the bedside table to grab the lube resting there, and wasted no time as he lubed up his fingers and slowly pressed one inside Jim, who keened softly. Len carefully added a second finger, than a third, and Jim pushed against him desperately.
“Please, Len… I’m ready, I need you now,” he whimpered, sweat mixing with water from the shower in his hair.
Subduing the small doctorly voice in his head, Len quickly slicked his cock and positioned himself at Jim’s entrance, leaning forward and balancing himself on one forearm when Jim wrapped his legs around his waist.
After a momentary pause, Jim let out a strained whimper and Len pushed in, steadily moving until he rested fully inside of Jim. He ran his hand up Jim’s body, ghosting over the stained words on his ribcage, then shifted his weight to both arms and pulled out and thrust back in.
There were times when after this ritual he would tenderly make love to Jim, or they would be cheerful and laughing. This was neither—there was a raw urgency to this act, and Len set a forceful rhythm, hardly allowing Jim to thrust back in counterpoint.
It wasn’t much longer until Jim, already on a hair trigger from the earlier sensations, reached between them to give his own cock a few strokes and came with a gasping cry. The feeling of Jim’s inner muscles spasming was the final straw for Len, who spilled inside of Jim and bit his shoulder to muffle his yell.
Len pulled out and grabbed one of the towels they lay on to clean both of them off, tossing it on the floor to be dealt with later.
Too many had been lost to the Enterprise that day, but Jim still fell asleep in the arms of the man he belonged to and who belonged to him.