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July 2019

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Merlin's Balls!

Preliminary Fic Post: (Darkness) Held me like a friend.

Title: (Darkness) Held me like a friend.
Genre: This part is pretty much just angst.
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~ 4000 words
Warnings: Bondage. Kind of bad sex. Emo Kirk is Emo. UNBETAED.

Summary: What seemed simple on Friday night isn't so straightforward in the light of Saturday morning.

Part II in the 'Until the Morning' verse.

Part I - Friday Night - Where Will You Be When the Lights Go Out
Part III – Sunday - Every Place That I Have Been (Leaves Its Message on My Skin) | Prompt Thread | Preliminary story post at my journal.

Author's notes: So I figured this one wasn't done with me yet and I was right, but guys. GUYS. This stopped being funny 8000 words ago. *facepalm*

Also, here's the deal: Once I'd written the second and the third parts, I kept having trouble with the fic. The second part didn't match the original story properly, and the beginning and the end of the second part didn't match each other. It took me some pondering to figure out that,

1. The second part was actually two distinctly different stories (which is kind of hilarious because it was written in more or less one sitting!) and,
2. This is not a multichapter story. This is a series of stories taking place in the same general framework. Each story so far has corresponded to a single day in the narrative – I make no guarantees that this will hold true in the future – which means that there's a tone shift between chapters. I am the sort of writer who likes to let the stories choose how they're told, so I didn't try to wrestle them into a uniform narrative.

Since the whole thing got so Goddamn long, I'm posting it in preliminary posts on my RL journal. It'll get moved to the fic journal once I've gotten it betaed and coded – and once I'm sure the damn thing is finished, hah.

Also, in case you don't remember from the first bit, Jim's safeword is "Menubrium".

(Darkness) Held me like a friend.

As far as Leonard McCoy is concerned, toys are for children.

That isn't to say that his bedside table isn't stocked; it is – but not necessarily with the unbearably fake plastic and vinyl gadgets found in most toychests. He's old fashioned, after all; if he wants to tie someone up he uses rope and if he wants to gag someone he'll use a length of fabric with a knot in the middle. He's never much understood the rationale for buckles and snaps, let alone padlocks – as far as he's concerned, if you need locks and chains to keep your another person where you want them, you're doing something wrong.

He doesn't go for the non-abrasive rope, either, because he likes leaving rope burns on his bed partners' wrists and ankles, likes seeing the telltale marks of ownership – albeit temporary – on another person's skin.

He does have a couple of pairs of old-fashioned handcuffs, mostly because he likes keeping people, and he is a doctor, after all; having your arms bound for a great length of time will eventually restrict bloodflow to the point where it gets dangerous. The cuffs are for ankles, because he knows well enough that most subs will pick apart a knot there with their hands left free: it's too great a temptation. The cuffs work, as a compromise.

Leonard prefers improvising, or using what is at hand, most of the time. If someone needs punishment, there's always the flat side of a hairbrush, or his belt. He isn't the sort to enjoy inflicting pain on other people, though, and these things tend to get used for their intended purposes. He's much more the type to inflict frustration and aggravation and to withhold pleasure in order to make his point.

He understands the need for some insertables, of course, on a day to day basis. Plugs, for example, are useful for doing away with lengthy preparation – but when he's got someone warming his bed for the weekend, it's not like there'll ever be long enough in between rounds that extensive prep will be necessary more than the first time. He likes to be thorough, after all, and what's the point of tying someone to your bed if you're not going to take advantage of the fact that they're at your mercy?

Leonard has most of these traditional items, of course. He's just been very selective in purchasing them, and so most of them are made of materials a little less synthetic than the unappealing plastics that are the most common. His favorite dildo is made out of blown glass; it looks like nothing so much as a work of art. The plugs he uses are stainless steel, and he has a set of beads made out of hardened ceramic.

He doesn't think of them as toys, for the most part; they're implements, instruments he uses to carry out his will on whoever is willing to submit to his desires.

Of course, now that he has Jim Kirk in his bed, he's cursing himself for being set in his ways, because what he really needs at the moment is a ballgag.


He wasn't really expecting Jim to break easily, because it's Jim, after all; Leonard has known him for three years and he's yet to see the man do anything the easy way. Jim protests just a fraction too much when Leonard snaps the cuff around his ankle; he's seriously pushing the boundaries – or perhaps he really has no idea where they are, even if Leonard can't quite see Jim as being that naïve.

The fact that Jim picks apart the knot on the gag within minutes of Leonard putting it on him might support the idea that Jim actually has no idea how to play this, if Jim didn't look so defiant - no, he's being difficult on purpose, and he knows it. They're friends and Leonard doesn't want to lose that, though having gone this far, it's a little too late for him to worry. Jim did seem to want what Leonard was offering last night, but he's being stubborn right now, and Leonard isn't sure what to do with it, of how to get Jim to understand that they play by Leonard's rules or they don't play at all.

He has a feeling it's going to take a meltdown before that sinks in and while he doesn't like drama on basic principle, this is Jim. For Jim, he'll do what it takes.

So he pushes back just as hard, riding roughshod over Jim's boundaries; gives Jim better things to do with that pretty, pretty mouth of his, and when he's come down Jim's throat, ties his arms behind his back and gags him again and doesn't touch him where it counts, no matter how much Jim glares – if looks could kill, Leonard would be a heap of smoldering ash.

He's good at what he does, though it's easy enough when you're aiming to do some damage, and he's known for years that James T. Kirk could take just about anything you could throw at him except unconcern. So Leonard ignores him: reads the Saturday news at the small kitchen table, does the breakfast dishes, and reads a journal article on laser scalpel improvements before paying Jim any attention again. He takes one of his journals with him to the bed and ignores the way Jim is looking at him when he sits down next to him and flips it open.

It's afternoon before Jim snaps. Leonard has fucked him twice without letting him come, bending him over the foot of the bed and taking his sweet time with it and he knows that they're nearing the end of Jim's rope but it's still a surprise when Jim snaps his fingers three times to let him know he needs something and the first word out of his mouth when Leonard takes the gag off is 'manubrium'.

"Okay," he says quietly and gets out of bed to put on some clothes and find the handcuff keys.

Jim really must have struggled against the ropes on his wrists; not just that morning but the night before, too, because the skin on his wrists is rubbed raw, and yes, Leonard likes leaving marks, but not these sorts of marks. He makes a mental note to use something else next time if the whole thing doesn't blow up in his face first.

Jim certainly looks like he might explode when Leonard hands him his clothes before sliding into his own shirt. "Bones…" he says, looking mutinous.

"You used your safeword, Jim," he says quietly.


"When you use it, we stop. That's the rule."

"I didn't want…" Jim starts, then trails off, looking pissed.

"You didn't like what I was doing, so you thought you could make me do something else," Leonard replies, just looking at Jim, knowing perfectly well that his calm is getting to him. "It doesn't work like that."

"You…" Jim says, then flushes dark red with fury and starts struggling into his clothes. "You unbelievable bastard," he hisses out between clenched teeth. "You fucking… God."

"How did we get from 'anything you want' last night to me being a bastard this morning, Jim?" he asks. "Think about it and get back to me."

"It'll be a cold day in hell," Jim bites out, stepping into his shoes and grabbing his jacket before slamming the door behind him.


It's barely three hours later when the doorbell chimes and Leonard smirks to himself as he dishes up dinner and pulls two beers out of the refrigerator before answering the door. It started pouring rain barely an hour ago and Jim looks drenched, face pale and eyes huge and blue as he stares at the two steaming bowls on the kitchen table, the two beers, and the towel Leonard is holding out to him.

"There's sweatpants and a shirt on the radiator in the bathroom, Jim," he says, trying not to enjoy Jim's puzzlement too obviously, because the last thing he wants is to frighten him off again. "Be quick or your noodles will go cold."

"They're better cold," Jim says, probably more out of habit than anything else, since it's an old and familiar argument.

"You're eating them hot this time if you know what's good for you, did you go for a swim in the bay?"

"Fuck off," Jim says weakly and finally takes the towel, leaving droplets of water on the floor as he heads into the bathroom.

Leonard just smirks after him, before going to pop the caps on the beer and sit down with his dinner.

Jim still looks a little damp around the edges when he gets back from the bathroom, but he's quick enough about it that Leonard doesn't comment, just passes the soy sauce without being asked and watches Jim eat his dinner out of the corner of his eye.

"You…" Jim finally starts when he's nearly licked the bowl clean in an attempt to stave off the conversation. He looks around; Leonard used his absence to change the sheets on the bed, clean the apartment properly, do some schoolwork, record a message for Joanna, and of course, cook their dinner. Jim takes in the neatened flat like he's seeing it for the first time, and perhaps he is, now that he knows that the reason for Leonard's old fashioned bedframe is because it's easy to tie other people to it, now that he's seen what's in the bottom drawers of Leonard's nightstand, now that he might realize that the hook in the ceiling that's only partly hidden by the light fixture is there for when he wants to play standing up.

"How did you know I was coming back?" Jim finally settles on, not looking him in the eye.

Leonard nearly laughs. "Jim," he says. "When you left here, you headed down the hill and towards campus. You were planning to go back to your dorm, but your hard-on was bothering you as you were walking, so you ended up going somewhere to take care of the problem. My guess would be a coffee shop, because coffee's cheap and buying a cup would give you an excuse to use the bathroom. Only when you got back from the bathroom you found that you actually wanted the coffee, so you sat down to drink it. You probably flirted with the barista, too." Jim's eyes are widening under the recitation, and he looks about ready to object somehow, anyhow, so Leonard rushes on before he can say anything.

"After coffee, you usually feel like working off the caffeine rush, so you probably wandered around, since the weather seemed nice enough. You ended up at the waterfront, because the sound and the smell of the ocean soothes you. At some point, you actually thought about what I asked you to think about, but you probably haven't figured it out yet. Thinking about me made you angry and probably confused, though you're never going to admit to that, and you ended up heading this way again without any sort of a plan." Jim is shaking his head, still looking shocked.

"Bones…" he gets out, but Leonard just keeps talking.

"And then it started raining, but because you didn't have a plan, you couldn't bring yourself to hurry, either here or home. By the time you were soaked through, it would have taken you longer to get to the dorms than here, and having thought about it on the way, you probably decided to come here and tell me that last night was a mistake, but we're still friends, right? No hard feelings?" He takes a long pull off his beer, his mouth dry, watching as Jim stares at him, mouth open and eyes almost comically wide.

"Did you… were you…" he looks around, as if to reassure himself that yes, the apartment has been cleaned and Leonard cooked, so he can't have spent the afternoon following Jim around.

"I know you, Jim," he says, low but firm, leaning forward in his seat and darting out a hand to catch Jim's wrist as Jim leans back, rubbing his thumb over the bruised skin of Jim's pulsepoint. There's a tiny hitch in Jim's breath – tiny, but there, which is about the best Leonard can expect – and he tries to pull his hand back, but Leonard doesn't let go.

"Let me…" Jim says and tries to pull back again, except when he does Leonard goes with it, standing up to move over to Jim, putting one hand on his shoulder and one hand on the table, hemming him in.

They are of a height, though most people would think he had an inch or so on Jim, who never stands up straight, and it's not like he could ordinarily intimidate Jim with his physical stature – he's not the advanced hand-to-hand instructor, here. He knows, though, that when it comes to the personal, Jim's fight-or-flight instincts tend to be geared towards flight, and he has no intention of letting Jim run this time.

"Why don't you let me ask the questions?" he murmurs, waiting until Jim lifts his gaze to meet his eyes. "For example, was it good? Was it… satisfactory? Jerking off in the bathroom? Was it enough?"

Jim swallows, but he can't hide the flush creeping up his neck. "If you know me as well as you say you do, shouldn't you already know the answer to that question?" he asks defiantly.

He has to hand it to Jim, he's decided to stand his ground. Good.

"I do," he says, giving Jim an obvious once-over, and then lets his smirk show on his face. "I would just like to hear you say that it wasn't even close."

"Fuck you," Jim whispers. "It was great."

"Do not lie to me, Jim," he replies, staring Jim down until Jim blinks and looks away. "And as for fucking me… maybe someday."

"What," Jim snaps back, suddenly rebellious. "A control freak like you, opening your legs for me? Yeah right."

He smiles, because hell, Jim's just given him a better opening than he could ever have engineered. "I am not the control freak in this relationship, Jim," he says, and grips Jim's shoulder harder when he starts. "How long has it been since you let someone take care of you?"

Jim laughs, a dry chuckle that sounds nearly painful. "Yeah, because all you want to do is to take care of me."

He tightens his grip on Jim's shoulder again and breathes out slowly before answering. "As a matter of fact, yes, I really do want that."

It feels like it takes hours for Jim to meet his gaze again. "Well," Jim says, finally, sounding lost for words, "you have an odd way of showing it."

"I got you a towel, warmed you some dry clothes and cooked you dinner," he says softly.

Jim looks startled, like Leonard had known he would, because Jim wasn't thinking of that when he made the comment.

"This morning," he adds, when Jim doesn't say anything, "you weren't going to let me. Trying would have been pointless."

Jim looks away, staying mulishly silent, his jaw set in determination. "Jim," he says, low and urgent, because he doesn't want to give Jim too much time to dig his heels in, "last night you told me anything I wanted was mine for the taking. What changed, Jim?"

"Nothing," Jim bites out, sounding strained, still staring into the distance.

"Don't kid yourself. What changed?" He can feel Jim's shoulder tighten beneath his hand.

"You know me so well, you tell me," Jim snarls, looking up and meeting his eyes for half a second before looking down again, fuming.

"You either didn't trust me to take care of you, or you realized that was what I was going to do and decided you didn't want that. I'm not sure which, which is why I asked you how long it's been, remember?"

"I take care of myself," Jim snaps and he looks… surprisingly furious.

The realization blindsides him and he sees Jim wince under the tightening grip on his shoulder. "You can't answer that question because it's never happened," he whispers, stunned.

Jim looks defiant. "I don't need anybody to…"

Leonard doesn't let him finish. "Yes you do, Jim, fuck, stop being an idiot." Jim stiffens and Leonard sighs. "Everybody does, you stupid fucker," he goes on, not giving Jim the chance to object to the idiot comment.

"You sound like a fucking Hallmark card," Jim mutters, mutinous and staring at the floor.

"Only with more profanity," Leonard agrees, dropping down to kneel in front of Jim's chair. After the revelations of the evening, he's not particularly interested in looming over Jim anymore. "But you know as well as I do that the things they put on those damned stupid cards tend to be true to some degree, Jim, no matter how saccharine they sound."

He's put himself into Jim's line of sight, and he's relieved when Jim meets his gaze, because Christ, he'd been walking a finer line than he'd realized. "I trust you just fine," Jim says, and he's flushing again as he looks away towards the door, like he longs to run and the only thing stopping him are Leonard's hands on his knees.

It's a non-sequitur but he's been able to follow Jim's line of thought since the day he met him, and it doesn't take him a moment to parse what he's really saying. "But it was easier not to, this morning, wasn't it?"

"You… you wouldn't let me…" And Jim Kirk is stuttering, talking about sex. He should put the date down in his calendar.

"Of course I was going to let you come, eventually. It would have been worth waiting for, too."

"I couldn't take it, Bones!" Jim blurts, but he doesn't even believe that himself, if the way he's biting his lip is any indication.

"Don't fuck with me. You just didn't want to," he says levelly, staring at Jim, finally resorting to squeezing his knee to get him to look back. "And if you trust me, like you say you do, you know I wouldn't have done anything to you that you couldn't take."

There's a long silence, Jim gazing at him looking lost. "I find it a little amusing that of everything I want to do to you, it's kindness that you can't deal with," Leonard finally says, softly, hands running up Jim's legs to settle at his waist.

Jim gets an astonished look on his face, blinks and bites his lip, breaking eye contact. "You still want to…" he starts, before stalling.

That's hardly worth answering and so, instead of saying anything, he grabs Jim's hands and pulls him forward, until Jim gets the idea and leans down to meet his lips in a long, slow kiss. He slides a hand back and into Jim's hair, and even as they have to break apart to breathe Leonard keeps a hold of him, not willing to let go just yet because he knows that this might be the last time he gets to do this.

"I'm going to take care of you," he breathes against Jim's lips, stealing a kiss before pulling back a little. "Let me."

There's a long silence before Jim's hands find his shoulders and pull him in closer again until they're forehead to forehead. "Fuck," Jim sighs, "okay."

He pulls Jim out of his chair and over to the bed, pushing him down until Jim's sitting on the edge of the mattress, face buried in Leonard's shirt, and he raises his arms obediently to let Leonard pull his t-shirt off. His fingers are questing up underneath Leonard's own shirt, and he ends up pulling it over his head, not bothering with buttons, dropping it onto the floor carelessly. Jim's cheek feels hot pressed up against his stomach and Jim is just holding onto him, arms wrapped around him, like he can't bear the thought of letting go.

He does loosen his grip enough to let Leonard kneel again, and eventually just keeps a hand on his shoulder as Leonard pulls his sweatpants down before crawling up onto the bed, leaning over Jim, kissing him hard and deep, until Jim is convinced he's not going anywhere and lets go of him in favor of working at getting his pants off. There's a brief struggle with underwear and then they're both naked, skin against skin, and Leonard lets his hands wander over Jim's body, finding his favorite spots from the night before until Jim is incoherent beneath him, head thrown back, eyes closed, gasping and arching up into him whenever Leonard presses his fingers against Jim's bruises, some of which are from fight practice, but some of which he put there himself, and there's something heady about that which has him pressing down harder.

"Can I…" Jim gasps, between breaths, "can I touch you? Do you want to…"

"Not tonight," he replies. "Yes. Just…"

Jim cards his fingers through Leonard's hair when he slides down into the space between Jim's knees, and Jim sighs and lets his legs fall open further when Leonard pushes two fingers into him, working him loose and relaxed, before leaning up and Jim knows exactly what he wants and just pulls his knees up, throwing one leg over Leonard's shoulder and he's open and wanting and only a hair away from begging for Leonard to fuck him, and it's the prettiest sight Leonard has ever seen.

Jim whimpers when Leonard pushes into him; he's soft and pliant and it doesn't take more than a couple of thrusts until Leonard is buried to the hilt and Jim is pressing back, lifting himself up with the foot still on the mattress, until Leonard gets the hint and starts moving again. One of Jim's hands is at the nape of his neck, pulling him down almost continually; Jim wants to be kissing him if at all possible and Leonard has no problem with indulging him.

In this position it's almost impossible for him to get enough leverage to hit Jim's sweet spot, so he doesn't really try, going for deep and slow and gentle instead, wrapping a hand around Jim's cock when he starts tensing around Leonard's dick and jacking him off, until Jim comes, moaning his name, taking him over the edge as well.

It's early, but they had a late night the day before, and Jim looks like he could do with a good night's sleep, anyway, so Leonard goes and gets a washcloth to clean them up, and some salve to rub into Jim's bruised wrists, which he still feels badly about, though Jim just laughs and tells him he's had worse.

Jim, for his part, seems relaxed and happy, but that's only because he's very adept at hiding his fears away where most people can't see them. Leonard, of course, is not most people, and he wonders if Jim has realized this yet. Perhaps he'll come around, now that they've talked, though Leonard can foresee a few more panic attacks happening. His last thought before falling asleep with his arms wrapped around Jim, is that he hopes they don't have one straight away in the morning.

Part 3 - temporary location.


Holy ... whoa.

The dynamics in this are spot on, and Jim's defiance is pitched just right. He's not really a sub-- he's just tired of being in charge all the time, if that makes sense.

Nicely done.
oh god, I am breathless. breathless and squirming in my chair.
I loved part one, and this is even better. Bones knows Jim so well, better than Jim knows himself. And, nice, slow, loving sex can definitely compete with hot, raunchy, D/s sex.
Off to read part three...
I'm so glad you liked the bits, even if it's still a bit piecemeal and all over the place in my journal ;)

Hope you liked part 3, too!
i like the dynamics. i don't normally much care for d/s or bdsm, but there's so much more going on here, curious to see where these two get.
This is just...there are so many layers and complexity to the stories in this series that I feel weird commenting because I can't do them justice. But the stories deserve love! So yes, this was amazing. I love how well Bones knows Jim. And the taking care...that's an emotional played extremely well. :-)