As he worked his way down, Chris groaned again at the feeling of Leonard's mouth on his collarbone. Leonard's fingers carded through Chris's chest hair, and scratched lightly.
"Oh, god," Chris said, and twisted, trying to get more skin against skin. Unfortunately, he twisted just wrong, and something in his hip scraped against something else, setting off his already-overloaded nervous system. He stiffened, not in the good way, which made it worse, and inhaled sharply.
Leonard looked up immediately. "What's wrong?"
"Fucking—nervous system," Chris said, gritting his teeth and trying to ride out the moment. Sometimes it would go away after a few moments; sometimes it would feed back into a loop and he'd be miserable until he got more drugs in him. "Just—a moment—"
Um, so I was in a car accident a number of years ago and occasionally stuff gets out of whack. My sciatic nerve gets pinched, which makes the muscles tense, which means they clamp down on the nerves, which means the nerve gets pinched more, which means . . . you get it. It fucking hurts. Trust me on this one. (It's happening right now. Well, okay, not right now right now, because I took drugs, but right now generally.) See Dust From His Hands for another example of this happening and/or more of my feelings on the matter.
McCoy nodded and sat back on his heels.
Chris squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on relaxing as much as he possibly could. He didn't mind a little pain, but it wasn't a turn-on, and even if it were, this kind of pain wasn't the kind he'd want. He inhaled, held the breath, and exhaled slowly.
Although, truth be told, if my hips are out of whack and I'm in pain, there ain't nothin' like sex going on, because unlike Chris, who has actual chronic pain here, mine's just episodic and I can't push through it. Also, due to the location of the sciatic nerve and the configuration of female anatomy, it, uh, doesn't . . . there's not really a position that would result in no pain. /tmi
2/2
"Oh, god," Chris said, and twisted, trying to get more skin against skin. Unfortunately, he twisted just wrong, and something in his hip scraped against something else, setting off his already-overloaded nervous system. He stiffened, not in the good way, which made it worse, and inhaled sharply.
Leonard looked up immediately. "What's wrong?"
"Fucking—nervous system," Chris said, gritting his teeth and trying to ride out the moment. Sometimes it would go away after a few moments; sometimes it would feed back into a loop and he'd be miserable until he got more drugs in him. "Just—a moment—"
Um, so I was in a car accident a number of years ago and occasionally stuff gets out of whack. My sciatic nerve gets pinched, which makes the muscles tense, which means they clamp down on the nerves, which means the nerve gets pinched more, which means . . . you get it. It fucking hurts. Trust me on this one. (It's happening right now. Well, okay, not right now right now, because I took drugs, but right now generally.) See Dust From His Hands for another example of this happening and/or more of my feelings on the matter.
McCoy nodded and sat back on his heels.
Chris squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on relaxing as much as he possibly could. He didn't mind a little pain, but it wasn't a turn-on, and even if it were, this kind of pain wasn't the kind he'd want. He inhaled, held the breath, and exhaled slowly.
Although, truth be told, if my hips are out of whack and I'm in pain, there ain't nothin' like sex going on, because unlike Chris, who has actual chronic pain here, mine's just episodic and I can't push through it. Also, due to the location of the sciatic nerve and the configuration of female anatomy, it, uh, doesn't . . . there's not really a position that would result in no pain. /tmi
I hope you enjoyed!