Inell's Fanfiction Archive

“It hurts,” Jim whines, glancing over his shoulder to see what Bones is doing.

“You got shot in the ass with an arrow. Did you think that’d feel good, Jim?” Bones rolls his eyes even as he skims his fingers over the bare skin around the arrow.

“I didn’t realize it’d hurt like this,” Jim mutters, trying not to think about how good Bones’ touch felt. He’s in pain and shouldn’t be thinking about his best friend touching over parts of his body with those long, warm fingers. He gulps and focuses on the pain because that’s safe. “Some sympathy would be nice.”

“Why? I warned you not to taunt the guy,” Bones points out. He moves a hand to rest on Jim’s hip while he continues poking and prodding the skin near the imbedded arrowhead. It’s got to be some form of torture, Jim decides, biting his lip to keep from moaning. “You can’t ever keep that big mouth shut, though, can you? Had to keep on at him until he made you bleed. Asshole.”

“He was wearing a diaper! In a crowded bar. While waving around a bow and arrow and making drunken declarations of being Cupid,” Jim explains patiently. “How could I not taunt him, Bones? He was totally asking for it.”

“Right. Because drunken men suffering some delusions are always asking for smartass cadets to ridicule them, especially when said crazy drunks are armed and dangerous,” Bones says dryly. “And they claim you’re one of the smartest in your command track.”

“The smartest,” Jim defends, shifting his ass back towards Bones’ hand unconsciously. The fingers on his hip are holding him tight, but one is casually moving up and down, stroking his skin as Bones continues staring at the wound. It’s driving Jim insane. “Damn it, Bones. Just get it out of me.”

“Bet that’s something you haven’t said often,” Bones grumbles with a snort. He keeps moving his fingers over Jim’s ass. “The arrow is in deep, so I’m trying to make sure it won’t hurt you more when I remove it. So shut up and let me focus.”

Jim feels his cock twitch even more and hopes that Bones doesn’t notice how hard he is right now. He doesn’t want to hear any lectures about masochism or getting off on pain, which would be likely to happen since Bones wouldn’t believe that his touch made the pain fade. Jim doesn’t even believe it, and he’s the one feeling it. “It hurts,” he whines again, knowing from experience that Bones can’t often resist the whine. Or the pout. Or the smirk. Now that he’s thinking about, Bones can’t really resist him at all. How has he never noticed that before?

“Stop being a baby.” Bones starts working on the arrow, though, so Jim’s ploy worked. Not that he feels very triumphant as he stands bent over Bones’ desk with his pants around his knees, his cock harder than it’s been in ages and leaking pre-come all over his belly, and the sudden realization that he likes that Bones can’t resist him. Likes it in ways that he can’t think about right now.

“Not a baby,” he mutters. He shifts again, unable to hold back a moan when Bones slides his fingers over the broken skin near the arrowhead.

“Jim?” Bones’ voice is suddenly husky, as if he’s just realized that Jim’s half naked and he’s rubbing his bare ass. Trust Bones to focus on injury over nudity. Jim gasps when the arrow is suddenly pulled out, hard, nearly coming without even being touched. “Don’t move,” Bones warns in a tone that doesn’t help the arousal at all. Only makes it worse, and Jim presses back against him, needing more, wanting more.

“Bones, please,” he murmurs, moving his hand only to have it slapped away before he can grab his cock. Bones’ fingers wrap around him as wet lips pressed against the wound on his ass.

“Cupid went to a lot of trouble for us,” Bones whispers before kissing the wound again. “Don’t wanna let him down, do we?” Jim can only whine as Bones starts to stroke him and think that maybe crazy men in diapers aren’t so ridiculous, after all.