(no subject)

[notabricklayer]

McCoy is awake, standing at the bay window, watching the sun rise over the mountains, a steaming mug of coffee in his hands.

It's been a week.

He has to go back. If he doesn't go back, there will never be a day where he'll up and decide to go back. It will be put off and put off until he's forgotten there ever was a Starship Enterprise.

Knowing he should doesn't make it any easier.

Comments

[olyabird.livejournal.com]

There's something delicious and decadent about being allowed into him, something that makes her press deeper, slowly filling his mind with her essence. He calls to her and his voice rings through her like a bell, sending a shiver of delight resonating through her.

Here. Touch me here.

In the physical plane, she draws him down to her, the increased contact making it easier for her to direct his limited senses to where she needs him the most. Tangling with him, sweet and slow, she crawls along his long bones, breathes along his nerves, drowns herself in his essence, fearless, boundless, ageless.

[notabricklayer.livejournal.com]

He is as fumbling and clumsy as a teenaged boy, uncertain, but at least willing to take direction. He cannot even begin to define what she wants, what she's doing to him, but... as he curls around her, holding her close, he can feel her surrounding him, somehow knowing she is where he can barely recognize himself.