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Pet Peeves

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Leonard McCoy is ridiculously easy to annoy. After a few weeks, most of his fellow cadets learned to tread lightly around him, lest an endlessly tapping foot or off-key warble in the showers turn his usual air of vague grumpiness into one of barely-suppressed fury. He isn’t an outcast, exactly, but the people who have managed to get close to him have mostly done so by having very few distinctive characteristics.

The one exception is Jim Kirk — and oh, what an exception he is. Everything about Jim is over-the-top, from his confidence to his drinking to his pontificating questions in class. He cracks his knuckles, hums while he reads, always drinks the last beer in Leonard’s six-pack and never offers to buy him another. If most people’s behavior qualifies as treading lightly, Jim practically stomps all over Leonard in giant combat boots.

Leonard knows that all of these things should be unbearably irritating. It isn’t that Jim never gets under his skin. There’s just something about Jim’s swagger, or his smile, or the way he broadcasts his emotions with his whole being, that makes all his quirks endearing instead of annoying.

And of course, when Leonard is balls-deep in Jim’s ass, he can forgive pretty much anything.

Jim is on his knees on the bed, grabbing the headboard for support, sweat shining on his back. “Ah, fuck, Bones,” he moans, as Leonard pulls out slowly, millimeter by millimeter, and eases back in the same way. “Your cock is so fucking hard, I love it. Give it to me, give me all of it, fuck!” He throws his head back, his eyes shutting for just a moment as Leonard’s cock drags across his prostate. “Aaaaah yes. More, fuck, I want more, give it to me.” He tries to shove backwards, impale himself on Leonard’s dick, but Leonard’s hands on his hips hold him firmly in place. “God, Bones, please!”

Leonard bites his lip hard and makes himself stick to the same slow pace. Jim’s habit of talking all the way through sex might be annoying if it weren’t him doing it — and if it weren’t so damn hot. “Please what?”

“Fuck me,” Jim begs. “Fuck me, please, faster, harder, I want it hard. Please.”

Leonard groans under his breath and slams into Jim hard, one-two-three-four, fingers digging into Jim’s ass. Jim moans wantonly and arches his back, taking every stroke.

“Oh, fuck yeah, that’s how I like it,” he babbles. “Your fucking cock all the way in me, fucking me hard, so good, so, fuck, yes, ah!” He drops his head, bracing himself against the headboard so he can push back, take Leonard in even deeper. “Ah, right fucking there, again, yes, fuck that’s, fuck my dick is so fucking hard, ohpleaseohpleaseohplease!” The tension is building in Jim’s whole body, his toes curling, the muscles in his back flexing. “Please, oh god, you’re gonna make me come without even touching me, Bones, so good, your cock feels so fucking good, ah, give it to me, yes!”

Leonard is hurtling towards his orgasm at breakneck speed now, and Jim’s running monologue is doing nothing to slow that down. “You want me to touch you?” he growls.

“Yeah, touch my cock, touch it. I’m so fucking hard, for you, all for you, yeah, right there, fucking jerk me off—“ Jim’s babbling turns into a shout as he comes, splattering Leonard’s fingers with white, ass clenching hard around Leonard’s dick. Leonard swears and his hips stutter, but the second Jim has his breath back he’s off again, still canting his hips back.

“Come on,” he says. “Come for me, Bones, baby, come in my ass, I want to fucking feel it—“ and Leonard is gone, sparks flashing on the edges of his vision.

He pulls out of Jim and flops down on the bed next to him. Leonard is panting so hard it takes him a minute to realize the booming sound in his ears isn’t just his frantic heartbeat: someone is banging on the floor. Leonard can’t quite hear what the person in the room below them is shouting, but it doesn’t sound complimentary.

“Pissed off another one of our neighbors,” he says, smiling lazily at Jim. “You’re obnoxious.”

“And you love it,” Jim says, his tone dripping with arrogance and smug satiation.

“Yeah, I do,” Leonard sighs.