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Story Notes:
January 1, 2010
Jim feels the soft fabric brush against his chest. His nipples harden as it’s pulled up slowly, deliberately teasing him. “Faster,” he mutters crossly.

“Patience is a virtue, Captain.” Bones smirks as he ‘accidentally’ lets go of the shirt and has to pull it back up. Even slower this time, if that’s at all possible. Jim isn’t sure if his shiver is because of the shirt or the way Bones says captain as if it’s the dirtiest, filthiest thing in the entire universe. Probably a bit of both. “Raise your arms.”

There’s a moment when Jim considers resisting because, really, it just won’t do for Bones to get all arrogant and overly confident about things. Things namely being Jim’s reaction to him and how ridiculously head over heels he is. Bones meets his gaze and arches a brow slightly, just enough to say ‘I already know, so quit acting like you can resist, brat’. Jim raises his arms.

Bones pulls the gold shirt over his head and drops it on the ground. When Jim feels his fingers twitch, Bones rolls his eyes and bends down to pick up the shirt. “Damn neat freak,” he grumbles, straightening out the shirt and lying it over the back of the chair. He walks around Jim, reaching out to touch with light caresses and firm strokes over his chest and back.

He feels like his head might swivel off because he keeps trying to twist and watch, as if that’ll prepare him not to react whenever warm fingers touch his skin. When Bones finally stops circling him, Jim licks his lips. “Didn’t know you approved of torture, Doctor,” he says, trying to make the title sound erotic but not quite managing it. The breathless tone to his voice doesn’t much help.

“Only some forms. And then, only when they involve you.” Bones trails a finger from Jim’s Adam’s apple down his body. Jim swallows hard because it feels like fire where Bones has touched, like his skin is tingling and about to combust. There’s a flash of dimple as Bones recognizes his reaction but it’s soon gone when he reaches the waistband of Jim’s pants. “You aren’t wearing any underwear, are you?”

“No,” Jim whispers, inhaling sharply when Bones leans over and bites his shoulder just hard enough for him to feel.

“Did you work on the bridge all day like this?” Bones demands gruffly, his tongue laving the mark he’s made.

“Of course not. I took them off when I, uh, noticed what kind of mood you’re in,” he admits. That earns him a kiss on the mark before Bones starts licking his way across Jim’s chest. When he scrapes his teeth against his nipples, Jim whimpers and bucks his hips forward in an attempt to get some sort of friction.

A sharp slap to his ass stops him.

Bones sucks a mark on his collarbone before licking his way lower. When he’s kneeling before Jim, he toys with the button of his pants. “Do you know how many people stared at me today and giggled or whispered or just stared outright?” Bones asks, his knuckles rubbing back and forth across Jim’s belly.

“N-no,” Jim stammers, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair as he stares down at Bones.

“I counted thirty-four.” Bones moves swiftly and soon there’s a mark on Jim’s hipbone, right above the waist of his pants. Jim would point out that there’s not much chance Bones actually counted stares, but this isn’t the right time to argue. He’ll save that for later, when Bones isn’t so intensely sexy. Well, not as much as he is now since that’s just how Bones tends to when they’re in private. “So far, that’s three. Thirty-one more to go.”

“Bones.” Okay, that’s definite whining but Jim can forgive himself because, really. Thirty-four marks? That’s kind of extreme, even for them. Especially when this is over just one tiny little hickey that he happened to give Bones last night. It’s not his fault Bones’ shirt didn’t cover it and he didn’t notice it until he’d already left for work. Okay, so maybe it’s a little his fault because he knows the ‘clothing will cover so we’re safe’ boundaries since Bones forced him to make note of them when he realized Jim has a slight, very minor, fetish when it comes to leaving marks on him. But still. This is torture enough without thirty-four bites and hickeys.

“Jim.” Bones somehow manages to imitate the whining perfectly. He unfastens the button and moves both hands to Jim’s hips. As he leisurely drags the material down, he grins. “Bet you’ll remember to pay more attention next time, won’t you?” he murmurs before leaning in and sucking another mark just below Jim’s belly button. His breath is hot against Jim’s damp skin. “How many is that, darlin’?”

Jim meets his gaze and slowly smiles. “Four.”