Kirk had been glad to get off the ship. Glad to have something to do, after months of wasting and then a flurry of confused emotions and nebulous goals
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McCoy was waiting. He'd pitched a fit in his office, his temper finally worn out after his meeting with Uhura, but he'd calmed down with an unnatural quickness when he'd gotten word that the away team was beaming back up.
M'Benga could clear the assholes and process the fucking redshirts who didn't make it back breathing. That was the whole fucking point of having another goddamn doctor there, after all.
So he sat in his customary chair - and it was even more his chair now that there was someone else who shared this space, who had a spot of his own over there on the couch. Goddammit, but Kirk had wormed his way into McCoy's life. Though McCoy had let him. He ran his palms over the fine weave of his pants, not sweating but anxious, jumpy feeling just the same.
McCoy could tell himself whatever he wanted. Kirk knew he'd been waiting, which was... interesting. Even if he wasn't quite sure what it meant, that McCoy wasn't making him wait, wasn't purposefully busy elsewhere.
Everything was, suddenly, so much more interesting than it had been. Even before everything had changed. A man could, it seemed, miss his balls and still take some pleasure in life. Which reminded him he was due for a treatment.
"Leo," he said by way of greeting, flopping into his place on the sofa even if he would need to head to the replicator soon, respecting McCoy's own wait.
The kid looked good - the away mission had given him something back, some confidence that he'd been missing.
That was a goddamn good thing to see. Even though it probably boded trouble - McCoy figured the kid would test his boundaries sooner rather than later. It'd be a shame to spoil all his pretty work, too.
But the nickname caught him and made him laugh, a genuine chuckle that he hadn't expected.
"You seriously going down that route with the name?"
Now that Kirk was here, was sitting just over there, within reach if McCoy say up, stretched out his hands, he could relax. McCoy eased deeper into his seat, stretched his legs out.
Kirk welcomed the laugh with a sly smile of his own. "Leonard is so formal," he complained. "And I didn't think you'd appreciate 'Scruffy.'"
McCoy wasn't angry--that was easy enough to see, though the man's moods were damn mercurial. And "relaxed" didn't always mean "happy." But Kirk was feeling good. He shrugged.
"You wanna make a case for 'doctor,' I'll listen."
McCoy waved off that suggestion with a casual hand. It was a good sign, the kid giving him a nickname. Meant Kirk was feeling fond. Though maybe too settled. McCoy would keep an eye on that.
He was going to keep an eye on the energy just about fucking vibrating out of Kirk as well. It had been something of a no-brainer, that Kirk would come back with everything but a tent in his fucking pants - the adrenaline of an away mission riding high in his veins.
Kirk had, indeed, come back with an increased appetite for nearly everything. Not to mention the delicious frustration, latent but there, of his successful encounter with a very interesting android
( ... )
Chapel was still sedated, fucked out of her gourd in fact, because McCoy wasn't taking any chances on the woman coming to and freaking the fuck out again. She'd hurt herself with the restraints and, in that same iso room that Kirk would find familiar, there wouldn' t be anyone there to tend to her.
Godfuckingdamn it, Chekov. If the kid hadn't been so quick with his shitting knife...
McCoy shifted in his chair, a brief flash of what he could have finally allowed Chapel to do going straight to his groin.
Not that the rest wasn't interesting. That boyfriend of Rien's had come back alive, Harris. McCoy would have a little goddamn talk with him, yes he would. But the other fuckers, they didn't matter.
Viable android technology, though, especially viable android technology that could serve as a respository for the human consciousness...
"Fucking Uhura'll be taking that straight to the Empress. Solidify her position as the new golden girl of the goddamn Fleet."
Kirk nodded. "Which was what Korby was counting on--just had his head too far up his own ass to realize she didn't need him for shit. The part Uhura doesn't know is less tangible, and I'm not too sure of it myself. But the android girl--she's pretty pliant. Korby kept her ignorant, you know, but must have forgot to tamp down all native intelligence. Or maybe that was his ego. Anyway, I don't know what will happen to her but I've made my own inroads. If we need her, there's a chance she's ours. If someone doesn't undo my work first."
Yeah, there was some satisfaction in going where no man had gone before, even--maybe especially--if she wasn't really real. Anyone could seduce a naive, desperate woman.
Kirk was hardly a kid. Anyway it wasn't a euphemism so much as an analysis.
"No, just me. Fucker kept her as an assistant but also what you'd expect from someone who made an assistant who looks like a model when he already had Brown. Only he seems to have ignored certain aspects of her education, which I helpfully filled in. Imagine making an android capable of orally-induced orgasm, and not taking advantage. Seems downright cruel."
He shrugged.
"Chekov likes to wave that knife around, but that didn't get him half as far."
McCoy did enjoy eating a woman out. And he wasn't the jealous sort.
"Come here."
But Kirk's casual admission that he'd swayed the android assistant with cunnilingus made McCoy want to break someone's bones. Probably not Kirk's, though. He had other uses for Kirk.
The away team had only been gone a few days. And it wasn't in McCoy's nature to deny himself. But he had a taste for something specific, a taste to remind Jimmy-boy of a few things, and they neither of them had to be anywhere.
There was command in McCoy's tone, sudden and with an edge that was a potent reminder of where they'd come from. Kirk had thought nothing of the admission--they'd never pretended this was anything but a convenient arrangement at its most innocent, and even at its more overt edge exclusivity had not been addressed. And Kirk wasn't trained to see sex as pertaining to relationships. It was a tool. It wasn't only one, and fuck, he went to McCoy now more because he did feel denied than because he was commanded.
The idea that McCoy was jealous, therefore, didn't suggest itself to Kirk as he moved to his chair, leaning on the arms. He wasn't being ordered, he told himself. He was getting what he wanted, especially given the reminder of Andrea and the little, unexpected thrill at McCoy's renewed presence.
He and Jocelyn had fucked other people. It really wasn't jealousy. But at the end of the day, he rode her until they only smelled like each other - it was about belonging.
Kirk, McCoy was surprised on a conscious level to realize it, had better goddamn well know he belonged to McCoy. That was a damning thought - meant Kirk had his own power now, over McCoy. He didn't like that. Wasn't entirely sure he was going to stand for it.
But he'd sit, he'd pull Kirk into his lap and take his mouth with just as much teeth as tongue. It might have been his imagination that he could taste her at the back of Kirk's teeth.
Kirk figured he had some power--once he'd had enough of himself back to sit up and take notice, the thought had occurred to him, natural as breathing. As being Jim Kirk. What he didn't realize was that he did, somehow, belong to McCoy just as surely. In a way he had not belong to those who more overtly exerted their power or money.
So he fell into the kiss not only willingly but with his own sense of returning, settling over McCoy's crotch and lending his own teeth to the reunion.
Kirk was eager for it, fighting for McCoy's mouth just as much as McCoy wanted to eat those pink lips all up. He bit down again, harder than he meant to, and tasted blood.
It didn't stop him, couldn't stop him. Instead, McCoy fastened on to the little injury and suckled while he manhandled Kirk around to straddle him.
He'd been waiting for this ever since Andrea, ever since holding himself back for reasons that had both practical and, possibly, unconscious elements. He whimpered slightly at the pain, but not in protest. Indeed, his blood was up, as evidenced when he ground himself against McCoy, his hands steadying himself on shoulder and hip.
M'Benga could clear the assholes and process the fucking redshirts who didn't make it back breathing. That was the whole fucking point of having another goddamn doctor there, after all.
So he sat in his customary chair - and it was even more his chair now that there was someone else who shared this space, who had a spot of his own over there on the couch. Goddammit, but Kirk had wormed his way into McCoy's life. Though McCoy had let him. He ran his palms over the fine weave of his pants, not sweating but anxious, jumpy feeling just the same.
Information. He just wanted information.
It was what he told himself, anyway.
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Everything was, suddenly, so much more interesting than it had been. Even before everything had changed. A man could, it seemed, miss his balls and still take some pleasure in life. Which reminded him he was due for a treatment.
"Leo," he said by way of greeting, flopping into his place on the sofa even if he would need to head to the replicator soon, respecting McCoy's own wait.
Reply
That was a goddamn good thing to see. Even though it probably boded trouble - McCoy figured the kid would test his boundaries sooner rather than later. It'd be a shame to spoil all his pretty work, too.
But the nickname caught him and made him laugh, a genuine chuckle that he hadn't expected.
"You seriously going down that route with the name?"
Now that Kirk was here, was sitting just over there, within reach if McCoy say up, stretched out his hands, he could relax. McCoy eased deeper into his seat, stretched his legs out.
Reply
McCoy wasn't angry--that was easy enough to see, though the man's moods were damn mercurial. And "relaxed" didn't always mean "happy." But Kirk was feeling good. He shrugged.
"You wanna make a case for 'doctor,' I'll listen."
Reply
He was going to keep an eye on the energy just about fucking vibrating out of Kirk as well. It had been something of a no-brainer, that Kirk would come back with everything but a tent in his fucking pants - the adrenaline of an away mission riding high in his veins.
"You got any good news for me?"
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Godfuckingdamn it, Chekov. If the kid hadn't been so quick with his shitting knife...
McCoy shifted in his chair, a brief flash of what he could have finally allowed Chapel to do going straight to his groin.
Not that the rest wasn't interesting. That boyfriend of Rien's had come back alive, Harris. McCoy would have a little goddamn talk with him, yes he would. But the other fuckers, they didn't matter.
Viable android technology, though, especially viable android technology that could serve as a respository for the human consciousness...
"Fucking Uhura'll be taking that straight to the Empress. Solidify her position as the new golden girl of the goddamn Fleet."
Reply
Yeah, there was some satisfaction in going where no man had gone before, even--maybe especially--if she wasn't really real. Anyone could seduce a naive, desperate woman.
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"Inroads? That some new euphemism all the kids are using these days?"
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"No, just me. Fucker kept her as an assistant but also what you'd expect from someone who made an assistant who looks like a model when he already had Brown. Only he seems to have ignored certain aspects of her education, which I helpfully filled in. Imagine making an android capable of orally-induced orgasm, and not taking advantage. Seems downright cruel."
He shrugged.
"Chekov likes to wave that knife around, but that didn't get him half as far."
Reply
"Come here."
But Kirk's casual admission that he'd swayed the android assistant with cunnilingus made McCoy want to break someone's bones. Probably not Kirk's, though. He had other uses for Kirk.
The away team had only been gone a few days. And it wasn't in McCoy's nature to deny himself. But he had a taste for something specific, a taste to remind Jimmy-boy of a few things, and they neither of them had to be anywhere.
Reply
The idea that McCoy was jealous, therefore, didn't suggest itself to Kirk as he moved to his chair, leaning on the arms. He wasn't being ordered, he told himself. He was getting what he wanted, especially given the reminder of Andrea and the little, unexpected thrill at McCoy's renewed presence.
Reply
Kirk, McCoy was surprised on a conscious level to realize it, had better goddamn well know he belonged to McCoy. That was a damning thought - meant Kirk had his own power now, over McCoy. He didn't like that. Wasn't entirely sure he was going to stand for it.
But he'd sit, he'd pull Kirk into his lap and take his mouth with just as much teeth as tongue. It might have been his imagination that he could taste her at the back of Kirk's teeth.
Reply
So he fell into the kiss not only willingly but with his own sense of returning, settling over McCoy's crotch and lending his own teeth to the reunion.
Reply
It didn't stop him, couldn't stop him. Instead, McCoy fastened on to the little injury and suckled while he manhandled Kirk around to straddle him.
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