Shore Leave (6/9) (McCoy/Chapel, Reboot)
Title: Shore Leave
For: djinnfic for the mccoy_chapel Exchange ‘09
Author: esme_green
Pairing: Kirk/Chapel/McCoy
Rating: Adult (sexual situations M/F, M/F/M, M/M (only a hint of the latter, sorry))
Prompt/Notes: In Part One.
********
Clearly fate was pushing her in a different direction, Christine told herself as she peeled off her sopping wet clothes. It was absolutely not meant to be.
The little bath 'bot buzzed over and handed her a warmed towel to dry off with, and she punched the commands on its padd to fill the tub. Behind her, the 'bot scooped up her wet clothes, then stuck out a little attachment to vacuum up all the mud she'd tracked in, and she couldn't help but laugh. This was twenty-third century luxury at its finest.
Naked, but much drier and happier than she had been twenty minutes ago, she padded over to the icebox and pulled out the bottle of white wi-no, wait, she was on holiday. Champagne.
The bath was nearly full of steaming bubbles and she set her glass down carefully beside it. Glancing out the floor-to-ceiling windows again, she could only see rain and grey mist. It was as if she were the only one on the planet.
Well, things could be worse, she told herself, pointing a toe into the water. Perfect. She took her time stepping into the tub, letting its warmth wrap around her slowly as she sunk in up to her neck. Behind her the bath 'bot beeped again, offering its services, and she let it wash her hair with gentle, delicate touches.
It would be too easy to get used to this. When the 'bot suggested a light shoulder rub, Christine didn't hesitate. Clearly it had been programmed for human anatomy, because it seemed to be able to seek out all the little knots and twists she'd barely paid attention to over the past months.
A noise in the main room made her open her eyes, but before she could register what it was, a familiar voice cut through her relaxation.
"Chapel?"
"Doctor?" Footsteps approached and she glanced down quickly, making sure that the bubbles were covering her completely.
"You're trusting an alien machine with your trapezius muscles? Damn fool woman."
As she turned to look, McCoy came right into the bathroom without invitation and shooed the 'bot away. "Could do more damage than you know."
"I am a nurse," she pointed out dryly. Seeing Jim Kirk hanging back in the doorway, she waved him in. "He's already in here; no reason you can't be."
Jim looked entirely too pleased with himself, but still matched her dry tone. "It was his sweet-talking manners that turned my head too, the day we first met."
She started to laugh, but then McCoy crouched down behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, and oh, whatever he was doing felt about a billion times better than a machine. Stifling a groan of pleasure-no reason to let him know how good it felt-she focused on Jim. "So, how did you sweet-talk your way over here?"
"Wasn't me," Jim protested, dropping down to sit on the rim of the tub beside her. Somehow he'd already shucked off his shoes and he stuck his bare feet in the water, his heel giving her arm a friendly nudge. "Bones went all, 'I'm her doctor, damn it, and she could catch her death of cold.' Browbeat the resort into transporting us over."
Pulling away from McCoy, she craned her neck to look up at him. "So now the Perentreeans think that human females get sick if they get wet?"
"Just you," McCoy said, making himself comfortable on the floor on her other side, propping his head up on his arm. "I may have hinted you were recovering from Argonian measles."
"There's no such thing," she said evenly.
"There could be." When he smiled at her, he looked as young and carefree as Jim.
She shook her head with mock disapproval. "Giving an alien species misinformation? And you a Starfleet doctor."
He leaned in, and something inside her flipped over. "Are you arguing with my results, Nurse?"
His voice had darkened to a low rumble, and she lost her train of thought for a moment. "The ends don't justify the means, Doctor, as you very well know," she said, managing somehow to stay stern.
"Well, I made the call, and I'm satisfied with the outcome." Now his face was bare inches from hers and her lips parted in anticipation. "Your job, Nurse, is to do what I say."
"You know I won't do that."
"You'd disobey a direct order?" His fingers ghosted along her cheek and she gasped softly.
"I have before."
He paused, his thumb brushing the line of her jaw. "Did I ever punish you for that?"
"You never had the nerve," she replied.
"Chapel," he said, shaking his head in disapproval. "Those are fighting words."
"Take your best shot," she breathed.
Sighing, as though his fingers weren't drifting down to trace her collarbone with an exquisitely gentle touch, he said, "When will you learn? I know things." His fingers dipped below water level, and now she did stop breathing as they caressed the top of her breast. "I am, in fact, intimately acquainted," he found one of her little pebbled nipples and rubbed it ever so lightly, "with exactly what you need."
She couldn't stop a little whimper of pleasure.
And then his mouth crashed into hers, his hand leaving the water to tangle in her hair and drag her closer, and she was doing the same, her wet fingers wrapping around the base of his neck, trying to pull him near.
A while later-though it was probably only a few seconds, she heard from behind her, "You know, that whole Doctor-Nurse thing is kind of cute, but…"
Without breaking the kiss, she reached behind her, grabbed Jim's pant leg, and hauled. McCoy must have given him a push too, because there was a loud splash and a yell. Waves lipped over the rim of the tub between her and McCoy.
They parted long enough to look over and see Jim, rising out of the bubbles, still fully clothed and now completely soaked. "Nice," he said, wiping foam out of his eyes. "That was my last set of dry clothes."
He pulled off his shirt, which was another highlight of the afternoon, as far as Christine was concerned. And then he grinned down at her, and parts of her she never thought could liquefy turned to molten gold.
"Yes, he's good-looking," grumbled McCoy. "Get back here."
She turned to him and said, "Yes, Doctor," and he grinned too.
"Good girl," he said, and captured her mouth with his once more.
There was another thwap of wet clothing behind her-probably Jim getting rid of his trousers, because he'd never been shy-and the beeping of the bath 'bot as it scurried around, collecting clothes and vacuuming up the water on the floor, but she didn't care, winding her arms around McCoy's neck. Damn, he could kiss.
She could do that with him for hours. And was fully prepared to-
Jumping in shock, she squeaked her pleasure directly into McCoy's mouth, and he raised his head to see what was happening to her.
Jim's face was half underwater, his lips suckling gently at her breast.
She groaned, her hand reaching out to clamp Jim's head, arching into him, and he lifted his mouth long enough to say, "Go ahead with what you were doing. I can hold my breath for a while."
Then he dipped his mouth underwater once more and she squeaked again as he latched on.
Not to be outdone, McCoy's hand found her other breast, played with the nipple, while he pulled her in for more kissing.
She couldn't endure it for more than a minute or two-they were both too good. "Okay," she said, breathing hard as she pushed them both away. "One of you has to get inside me now. I don't care who, but sometime in-" she sucked in another breath, "-the next ten seconds would be good."
Jim and McCoy exchanged glances.
"Go ahead, Jim, I'm not done kissing her yet."
"Just get your ass in the tub." Jim reached for her, pulling her deeper into the water, sitting down on one of the lower seats and tugging her so she was astride him. "Ten seconds?"
"Now would be better," she breathed, choking back a moan as she felt his fingers between her legs, finding her sex and parting it.
Jim didn't start slow. Once he'd positioned her, he pulled her down firmly, entering her in a long, smooth stroke that seated him completely inside. She couldn't stifle a small cry.
"You're tight," he grated out.
"It's been a while," she gasped, and then he was moving, and she moved on him, and his lips found her breast again, and McCoy, who was still not in the damn tub, came up behind Jim and pulled her upright so that he could lean over and kiss her again.
She grabbed onto McCoy's shoulders, using them for leverage as Jim shoved up hard inside her, trusting both of them to keep her from falling.
Her climax she moaned directly into McCoy's mouth.
As soon as she did, though, he pulled away. "Right, Jim," he said. "Get her out of the damn tub. I want her once on dry land, first."
"Always a traditionalist," said Jim, lifting her easily off him, not looking particularly annoyed that his own climax was being delayed. "Here she is."
"Wait a second," she said, even as Jim scooped her up in his arms and deposited her on the floor beside the tub. "I wasn't done with you."
Jim grinned. "And I'm not done with you either."
"And the tile is cold," she directed at McCoy, though it was difficult to sound stern when he was looming over her, stripping off his shirt.
"You're going to forget all about that in a second," he said, hooking his thumbs in his waistband and shucking off his pants in one smooth movement.
Her breath caught in her throat. Jim had felt big and hard inside her, but she hadn't actually seen him. McCoy…he was definitely big, and definitely hard, and her jaw dropped.
He didn't seem to notice, dropping down on top of her, parting her legs with his, and snaking a hand under her hips to position her.
"No foreplay?" she asked, though she thought she might pass out if he didn't do something soon.
"You had a whole damn afternoon of foreplay," he told her, then looked up at Jim, who was still standing in the tub. "You said she's tight?"
"A little."
"Okay, sweetheart." He looked down at her. "I'll start slow."
"Not too slow!" She must have sounded a little panicked, because he grinned.
And then he was nudging inside her, stretching her, slowly going deep, but when she lifted her legs to wrap around his hips, he pushed them down to the floor again. "Be patient," he said. "I'll get there."
"Get there now, Doctor."
"So bossy," he said. "Even when you're being fucked."
Her eyes widened, but she managed to point out, "I'm not being fucked yet."
"Fine." He looked up at Jim. "This is what I get for being a gentleman."
"And the damn tile is still cold," she told him.
Without warning, he surged into her in one long, swift stroke. She choked out a little cry. He was big. In a good way, but…big.
"Still thinking about the tile?" he teased.
"A little," she managed, trying to let her body relax around him.
He pulled out almost completely and then drove back in. She cried out again.
"Damn it," he ground out. "Jim, a little help here?"
Between Jim's mouth on her breasts and McCoy's fingers, she eased up enough for McCoy to start moving, and once he started moving, well…then everything was fine. Better than fine.
Every thrust still made her whimper, at least partly in frustration. He'd pinned her hips and wouldn't let her move, wouldn't let her legs tangle with his or wrap around his waist. She tried pulling at his shoulders, but they were like rock and wouldn't give. All she could do was lay there.
McCoy wasn't even watching her face, now; he was looking down at their bodies, seeing himself push inside her over and over. It seemed like minutes before he grunted out, "Damn, that was good," over the sound of her cries.
And then, suddenly, he let go of her hips, let her angle up into his thrusts the way she wanted to, and their bodies began to slide across the tile. She was past caring, because he suddenly seemed concerned with finesse and was angling right *there*, right where she needed it, and then-
Her head slipped over the rim of the tub.
Jim was there to catch it, and he looked down at her and grinned. "How's it going?"
All she could do was moan as McCoy changed his angle again and finally lifted one of her legs over his hips, giving her some leverage which she immediately used to make him moan too.
Jim rose up to kneel on the bench just inside the tub, so that his erection was level with her head. "Feel like taking us both on?"
She was past words, but she stretched out a hand and grabbed his ass.
As he was already supporting her head, it was easy for him to line himself up against her lips. She took him in as far as she could, and heard his satisfied sigh. Between his hands on her head and hers on his ass, they set a decent pace for him.
McCoy shifted to a kneeling position, wrapping both her legs around him, and continued to fuck her. Her torso arched back towards Jim, her nipples, still beaded with water, pointing straight up, and McCoy put his mouth and hands to good use.
She climaxed a few moments later, clenching hard around McCoy's cock, her cries muffled by Jim's, and both men paused to savour it.
As her eyes fluttered open, she saw them exchange glances.
"What do you think?" said McCoy.
"I could do this a while longer," said Jim.
McCoy nodded. "Same here."
Continued in Part Seven
For: djinnfic for the mccoy_chapel Exchange ‘09
Author: esme_green
Pairing: Kirk/Chapel/McCoy
Rating: Adult (sexual situations M/F, M/F/M, M/M (only a hint of the latter, sorry))
Prompt/Notes: In Part One.
********
Clearly fate was pushing her in a different direction, Christine told herself as she peeled off her sopping wet clothes. It was absolutely not meant to be.
The little bath 'bot buzzed over and handed her a warmed towel to dry off with, and she punched the commands on its padd to fill the tub. Behind her, the 'bot scooped up her wet clothes, then stuck out a little attachment to vacuum up all the mud she'd tracked in, and she couldn't help but laugh. This was twenty-third century luxury at its finest.
Naked, but much drier and happier than she had been twenty minutes ago, she padded over to the icebox and pulled out the bottle of white wi-no, wait, she was on holiday. Champagne.
The bath was nearly full of steaming bubbles and she set her glass down carefully beside it. Glancing out the floor-to-ceiling windows again, she could only see rain and grey mist. It was as if she were the only one on the planet.
Well, things could be worse, she told herself, pointing a toe into the water. Perfect. She took her time stepping into the tub, letting its warmth wrap around her slowly as she sunk in up to her neck. Behind her the bath 'bot beeped again, offering its services, and she let it wash her hair with gentle, delicate touches.
It would be too easy to get used to this. When the 'bot suggested a light shoulder rub, Christine didn't hesitate. Clearly it had been programmed for human anatomy, because it seemed to be able to seek out all the little knots and twists she'd barely paid attention to over the past months.
A noise in the main room made her open her eyes, but before she could register what it was, a familiar voice cut through her relaxation.
"Chapel?"
"Doctor?" Footsteps approached and she glanced down quickly, making sure that the bubbles were covering her completely.
"You're trusting an alien machine with your trapezius muscles? Damn fool woman."
As she turned to look, McCoy came right into the bathroom without invitation and shooed the 'bot away. "Could do more damage than you know."
"I am a nurse," she pointed out dryly. Seeing Jim Kirk hanging back in the doorway, she waved him in. "He's already in here; no reason you can't be."
Jim looked entirely too pleased with himself, but still matched her dry tone. "It was his sweet-talking manners that turned my head too, the day we first met."
She started to laugh, but then McCoy crouched down behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, and oh, whatever he was doing felt about a billion times better than a machine. Stifling a groan of pleasure-no reason to let him know how good it felt-she focused on Jim. "So, how did you sweet-talk your way over here?"
"Wasn't me," Jim protested, dropping down to sit on the rim of the tub beside her. Somehow he'd already shucked off his shoes and he stuck his bare feet in the water, his heel giving her arm a friendly nudge. "Bones went all, 'I'm her doctor, damn it, and she could catch her death of cold.' Browbeat the resort into transporting us over."
Pulling away from McCoy, she craned her neck to look up at him. "So now the Perentreeans think that human females get sick if they get wet?"
"Just you," McCoy said, making himself comfortable on the floor on her other side, propping his head up on his arm. "I may have hinted you were recovering from Argonian measles."
"There's no such thing," she said evenly.
"There could be." When he smiled at her, he looked as young and carefree as Jim.
She shook her head with mock disapproval. "Giving an alien species misinformation? And you a Starfleet doctor."
He leaned in, and something inside her flipped over. "Are you arguing with my results, Nurse?"
His voice had darkened to a low rumble, and she lost her train of thought for a moment. "The ends don't justify the means, Doctor, as you very well know," she said, managing somehow to stay stern.
"Well, I made the call, and I'm satisfied with the outcome." Now his face was bare inches from hers and her lips parted in anticipation. "Your job, Nurse, is to do what I say."
"You know I won't do that."
"You'd disobey a direct order?" His fingers ghosted along her cheek and she gasped softly.
"I have before."
He paused, his thumb brushing the line of her jaw. "Did I ever punish you for that?"
"You never had the nerve," she replied.
"Chapel," he said, shaking his head in disapproval. "Those are fighting words."
"Take your best shot," she breathed.
Sighing, as though his fingers weren't drifting down to trace her collarbone with an exquisitely gentle touch, he said, "When will you learn? I know things." His fingers dipped below water level, and now she did stop breathing as they caressed the top of her breast. "I am, in fact, intimately acquainted," he found one of her little pebbled nipples and rubbed it ever so lightly, "with exactly what you need."
She couldn't stop a little whimper of pleasure.
And then his mouth crashed into hers, his hand leaving the water to tangle in her hair and drag her closer, and she was doing the same, her wet fingers wrapping around the base of his neck, trying to pull him near.
A while later-though it was probably only a few seconds, she heard from behind her, "You know, that whole Doctor-Nurse thing is kind of cute, but…"
Without breaking the kiss, she reached behind her, grabbed Jim's pant leg, and hauled. McCoy must have given him a push too, because there was a loud splash and a yell. Waves lipped over the rim of the tub between her and McCoy.
They parted long enough to look over and see Jim, rising out of the bubbles, still fully clothed and now completely soaked. "Nice," he said, wiping foam out of his eyes. "That was my last set of dry clothes."
He pulled off his shirt, which was another highlight of the afternoon, as far as Christine was concerned. And then he grinned down at her, and parts of her she never thought could liquefy turned to molten gold.
"Yes, he's good-looking," grumbled McCoy. "Get back here."
She turned to him and said, "Yes, Doctor," and he grinned too.
"Good girl," he said, and captured her mouth with his once more.
There was another thwap of wet clothing behind her-probably Jim getting rid of his trousers, because he'd never been shy-and the beeping of the bath 'bot as it scurried around, collecting clothes and vacuuming up the water on the floor, but she didn't care, winding her arms around McCoy's neck. Damn, he could kiss.
She could do that with him for hours. And was fully prepared to-
Jumping in shock, she squeaked her pleasure directly into McCoy's mouth, and he raised his head to see what was happening to her.
Jim's face was half underwater, his lips suckling gently at her breast.
She groaned, her hand reaching out to clamp Jim's head, arching into him, and he lifted his mouth long enough to say, "Go ahead with what you were doing. I can hold my breath for a while."
Then he dipped his mouth underwater once more and she squeaked again as he latched on.
Not to be outdone, McCoy's hand found her other breast, played with the nipple, while he pulled her in for more kissing.
She couldn't endure it for more than a minute or two-they were both too good. "Okay," she said, breathing hard as she pushed them both away. "One of you has to get inside me now. I don't care who, but sometime in-" she sucked in another breath, "-the next ten seconds would be good."
Jim and McCoy exchanged glances.
"Go ahead, Jim, I'm not done kissing her yet."
"Just get your ass in the tub." Jim reached for her, pulling her deeper into the water, sitting down on one of the lower seats and tugging her so she was astride him. "Ten seconds?"
"Now would be better," she breathed, choking back a moan as she felt his fingers between her legs, finding her sex and parting it.
Jim didn't start slow. Once he'd positioned her, he pulled her down firmly, entering her in a long, smooth stroke that seated him completely inside. She couldn't stifle a small cry.
"You're tight," he grated out.
"It's been a while," she gasped, and then he was moving, and she moved on him, and his lips found her breast again, and McCoy, who was still not in the damn tub, came up behind Jim and pulled her upright so that he could lean over and kiss her again.
She grabbed onto McCoy's shoulders, using them for leverage as Jim shoved up hard inside her, trusting both of them to keep her from falling.
Her climax she moaned directly into McCoy's mouth.
As soon as she did, though, he pulled away. "Right, Jim," he said. "Get her out of the damn tub. I want her once on dry land, first."
"Always a traditionalist," said Jim, lifting her easily off him, not looking particularly annoyed that his own climax was being delayed. "Here she is."
"Wait a second," she said, even as Jim scooped her up in his arms and deposited her on the floor beside the tub. "I wasn't done with you."
Jim grinned. "And I'm not done with you either."
"And the tile is cold," she directed at McCoy, though it was difficult to sound stern when he was looming over her, stripping off his shirt.
"You're going to forget all about that in a second," he said, hooking his thumbs in his waistband and shucking off his pants in one smooth movement.
Her breath caught in her throat. Jim had felt big and hard inside her, but she hadn't actually seen him. McCoy…he was definitely big, and definitely hard, and her jaw dropped.
He didn't seem to notice, dropping down on top of her, parting her legs with his, and snaking a hand under her hips to position her.
"No foreplay?" she asked, though she thought she might pass out if he didn't do something soon.
"You had a whole damn afternoon of foreplay," he told her, then looked up at Jim, who was still standing in the tub. "You said she's tight?"
"A little."
"Okay, sweetheart." He looked down at her. "I'll start slow."
"Not too slow!" She must have sounded a little panicked, because he grinned.
And then he was nudging inside her, stretching her, slowly going deep, but when she lifted her legs to wrap around his hips, he pushed them down to the floor again. "Be patient," he said. "I'll get there."
"Get there now, Doctor."
"So bossy," he said. "Even when you're being fucked."
Her eyes widened, but she managed to point out, "I'm not being fucked yet."
"Fine." He looked up at Jim. "This is what I get for being a gentleman."
"And the damn tile is still cold," she told him.
Without warning, he surged into her in one long, swift stroke. She choked out a little cry. He was big. In a good way, but…big.
"Still thinking about the tile?" he teased.
"A little," she managed, trying to let her body relax around him.
He pulled out almost completely and then drove back in. She cried out again.
"Damn it," he ground out. "Jim, a little help here?"
Between Jim's mouth on her breasts and McCoy's fingers, she eased up enough for McCoy to start moving, and once he started moving, well…then everything was fine. Better than fine.
Every thrust still made her whimper, at least partly in frustration. He'd pinned her hips and wouldn't let her move, wouldn't let her legs tangle with his or wrap around his waist. She tried pulling at his shoulders, but they were like rock and wouldn't give. All she could do was lay there.
McCoy wasn't even watching her face, now; he was looking down at their bodies, seeing himself push inside her over and over. It seemed like minutes before he grunted out, "Damn, that was good," over the sound of her cries.
And then, suddenly, he let go of her hips, let her angle up into his thrusts the way she wanted to, and their bodies began to slide across the tile. She was past caring, because he suddenly seemed concerned with finesse and was angling right *there*, right where she needed it, and then-
Her head slipped over the rim of the tub.
Jim was there to catch it, and he looked down at her and grinned. "How's it going?"
All she could do was moan as McCoy changed his angle again and finally lifted one of her legs over his hips, giving her some leverage which she immediately used to make him moan too.
Jim rose up to kneel on the bench just inside the tub, so that his erection was level with her head. "Feel like taking us both on?"
She was past words, but she stretched out a hand and grabbed his ass.
As he was already supporting her head, it was easy for him to line himself up against her lips. She took him in as far as she could, and heard his satisfied sigh. Between his hands on her head and hers on his ass, they set a decent pace for him.
McCoy shifted to a kneeling position, wrapping both her legs around him, and continued to fuck her. Her torso arched back towards Jim, her nipples, still beaded with water, pointing straight up, and McCoy put his mouth and hands to good use.
She climaxed a few moments later, clenching hard around McCoy's cock, her cries muffled by Jim's, and both men paused to savour it.
As her eyes fluttered open, she saw them exchange glances.
"What do you think?" said McCoy.
"I could do this a while longer," said Jim.
McCoy nodded. "Same here."
Continued in Part Seven