Closet Space

The thing about Leonard is that he’s got this voice, rich and deep and smooth, that crawls down the back of Bill’s spine and does funny things to Bill’s internal organs. It makes it hard for Bill to act with him on set, sometimes, because there are times when Leonard will say one of his lines, and Bill just wants to drop to his knees a blow Leonard in front of the entire crew, not even caring what kind of free show they’d be giving.

And that’s just the voice Leonard uses for everyday interactions.

When Leonard uses his other voice, his sex voice, deeper and rougher than usual, it always makes Bill’s brain overheat, a flush creeping down his neck. It always makes Bill want to whimper and beg a little. It always makes Bill want Leonard’s hands on his skin so bad he shakes with how much he needs it.

Leonard, of course, takes advantage of this as much as possible, the mean fucker, which is why Bill knows what to expect when Leonard drags them both into a supply closet during their lunch break. Leonard presses Bill’s body up against one of the shelves and leans in, lips right next to Bill’s ear. “I was thinking of all the ways I could make you scream,” Leonard says in his sex voice, though the tone is calm and even.

Bill’s dick goes from zero to really fucking hard in two seconds flat. He licks his lips. “Yeah?” he says, and his voice goes a little high and strangled. Leonard’s hands are pressed against the shelf behind Bill, his arms framing Bill’s head. Their bodies aren’t touching anywhere from head to toe.

“I think I liked the one where I tied you down the best,” Leonard says, warm puffs of air against Bill’s skin. “But really, all of them seemed like fun.”

Bill barely keeps himself from groaning. He can imagine it, the tight pressure against his wrists, holding him in place, the inability to move, to do anything until Leonard let him. Would Leonard fuck him like that? Or maybe suck him off? Or even, Jesus, ride his dick when Bill can’t grab hold of his skinny hips? “Leonard,” Bill says. “Please”

“I don’t know,” Leonard says, just proving that yes, he is the devil incarnate. “I think I like you like this.” He runs his knuckles over the bulge in Bill’s Starfleet pants, just the barest hint of pressure, not nearly enough to make Bill come, but enough to make Bill feel it all the way up to the roots of his hair. “Too turned on to be an asshole.”

“Fuck,” Bill says, because it’s the only word that comes to mind. He feels like a teenager, like anything could set him off at any moment. He closes his eyes so he can try to get a hold of himself. He doesn’t need much at this point, just a little more pressure, a little more heat. He could try to reach out and make Leonard touch him, but all that would actually get him is Leonard leaving him high and dry. It’s happened before.

“I guess I’ll be nice today,” Leonard says, turning his head so his cheek brushes up against Bill’s. A shiver runs through Bill’s body. And then Leonard presses down hard on Bill’s dick through his pants with the heel of his palm, almost to the point of pain. Bill keels over as he comes, his body entirely supported by Leonard’s, his mouth groaning obscenities into the soft blue fabric of Leonard’s shirt.

He’s leaning back against the shelves again when he gets his brain back in order. There’s an unfortunate wet spot in the front of his costume, and he really needs to take a shower before things start getting really disgusting. Leonard steps back, an eyebrow raised, which would make him look a lot like Spock if it weren’t for the incredibly smug smirk on his face.

“You should probably talk to Costuming about that,” Leonard says, gesturing to Bill’s pants. “I’ll see you back on set.” He leans forward again, and his voice drops a few notches, and Bill’s not ready to go again at all, but that tone of voice makes him wish he was. “Oh, and I’ll bring the ropes tonight.”

Then Leonard takes off, just proving that Bill’s totally not the real jackass in this relationship. “Motherfucker,” Bill says to the empty closet, but he can’t quite get rid of smile that feels permanently attached to his face for the rest of the day.