Reboot Fic: Morning Sun 2/4 (Draws XII) [Pike/Dael/Kirk/McCoy]

[syredronning]

***

The beach isn't the most beautiful place on Earth - Leonard had seen too much to give it that vote - but it's definitely the most secluded place he'd ever been to, hundred of meters of white sand just for the two of them.

"The only thing missing are cocktails," he says as he lies next to Chris on one of the amusingly old-fashioned white-and-blue beach chairs.

"Just order the ingredients, they'll beam them in," Chris says, two of his fingers hooked with Leonard's, their arms lightly swinging between the chairs. "You know how, don't you?"

"Yes." The order system had been one of those things Dael had showed him when they'd made their handover, and it's quite fool-proof. "What would you like to have?"

All right, a question too much, Leonard finds as Chris has a visible problem to answer. "I'll get everything for a few standard mixtures," he says to relieve him from the burden of a reply, and leaves for the house.

When he returns with two Long Island Ice Teas (well aware that alcohol isn't really recommended to go with Chris's medication, but what the hell, it won't kill him either), the chairs are empty, and for a shocked moment he searches the water with his eyes, engaging in wild nightmares of Chris getting drowned by the sea.

Then he sees his missed lover-slash-patient surfacing and walking towards the strand, shaking his hair like a dog to get rid of the water. Chris waves at him with a smile on his face, and Leonard's got to remind himself that despite the psychological problems, Chris is doing surprisingly well on the physical level.

He really likes swimming. He likes the floating feeling, Dael had said, and that she always let Chris be on his own for it because that's what he prefers. The nearness to water had been one of the major points when selecting this site, aside of the fact that it's located on an incredibly well protected island and that Nat's husband could considerably speed up the renting negotiation.

If he ever had a breakdown, he'd like to recover in a similarly luxurious hiding place.

"Can I come with you next time?" Leonard says lightly as he offers Chris a towel.

A light frown, a climbing brow. "Fear I'd drown?"

"I just love watching your ass," Leonard replies with a twinkle.

Chris turns and tilts his pelvis back with an amused smirk. "Might as well do that on land."

Laughing, Leonard slings his arm around Chris' middle and presses his groin against the wet skin. "I might."

It's the first rimming he ever delivers out in the open sun. Looks as if he's about to become an exhibitionist in his old age.

***

She's the one driving them home, her command of the motorbike stronger with every mile. He numbly sits behind her, feeling worn out and unsure what she's thinking of him now. She's the least judgmental person he knows, a nice change from Bones who has an opinion about anything and anyone and rarely keeps from saying it too, but sometimes he just doesn't know how to read her. He cares a lot for her but it's not the kind of love that makes his head spin and his stomach flutter, and he's not sure that she's able to feel that kind of love, except for Chris maybe.

Yeah, great. Persuading himself that he's second best to her too is a great final blow for his mood.

"Dismount?" she suggests, and only then he realizes that they're already parked in front of the apartment house. She takes their bit of baggage and they ride up the elevator in silence. He quietly walks in after she opens the door for him, feeling once more like a visitor, not an inhabitant of this unpretentious but still luxurious apartment although he's spent the last three days here.

She pulls him into the Jim&Bones bedroom and unwraps him like a gift. It makes him feel physically naked on top of having bared his soul already, but it also makes him aroused, which is a feeling he can deal with. Sex is easy and comforting. He undresses her too, and when she's nude, she directs him onto the bed so that he's flat on his back, before crawling over him.

"None of us knows what the future brings." She kisses his lips, so gently that it almost doesn't hurt. "But I know what I want today, and that is you, and you alone." Her next kiss is more fiercely, and he opens his mouth to her demanding tongue, the tension of the night exploding into a rush of arousal. His growing hard-on nudges against her skinny ass, and she manages to rub against it while she keeps kissing him with a faint trace of blood in the mix, her hands holding onto his arms and shoulders in plain need.

He hadn't sex in quite a while, probably the longest phase of sexual abstinence since high school, and when her warm body envelopes him, he sighs in relief and bliss, rolling his hips upwards.

"Oh damn, I need this…" he mutters and pulls them together to reach her breasts, licking one of her reluctant nipples. She groans against him as he uses some teeth, her riding movement breaking for a moment. He thinks of all the ways they'd had sex in the past and a lot of other funny positions he'd dreamed about, considering that she's the slimmest, lithest person he's ever been with. And best of all, he totally doesn't think of all the shit he'd said and the past and future and -

Catching him by surprise she suddenly moves off and away from him, running out of the room. Concerned, he's half out of bed when she returns with three small bottles.

"Pick one," she says breathlessly, and he recognizes the label, the protective lube he'd recommended to them himself.

"Dael…?"

"I want you to fuck me," she states, definitely never one to beat around the bush, but he still feels out of the loop here.

"I want you to fuck me like he did," she says, meeting his eyes. "Both ways."

"Oh." Her ass belongs to me, Chris had said, and it's been the only limit Chris had ever set between Dael and him. Even thinking about breaking his promise makes Jim uncomfortable.

"I don't know what kind of - arrangement you made about me, but it's not within his rights to negotiate my limits," Dael says roughly. "He's always made a point about my making my own decisions. This is one. I want you to fuck me like you saw on those vids that we sent to you. You said you liked them. Did you?"

Jim's throat is dry. "Yes. I loved watching them."

"Then you know what I want." She pushes the bottles into his hand. "Pick one."

He takes vanilla and feels fucking hell dirty as she gets on all fours in front of him, offering her backside in an unambiguous way. Taking a deep breath, he kneels down behind her and starts fingering her ass with one hand, the other one partly on her hip, partly on his own dick though little Jim doesn't really need further encouragement.

Her hole is really tight. "You didn't have a lot of sex lately, did you?" he asks.

"No," she says, a lot of frustration in that one word. He doesn't ask for details, but considering the way they both get off on this even before the actual act, they're both suffering from a bad case of underfuckedness.

Once she's slicked up, he slides into her pussy first. Arching her back with a whimper, she pushes back against him, forcing him into a rhythm that's almost too fast for his taste. He slows her down a bit, making it clear that he's got to set the pacing if she wants him to switch around, his hands holding firmly onto her hips. There's a tiny bit of fight in her posture, a bit of resistance asking to be encountered and overcome when he takes her ass that he can't remember from the vids, doesn't know if this is because of him or because she's changed. It leaves him a little floundering even as he fucks her into the mattress with long strokes, giving both her holes the demanded attention in turns. He must be doing it right, though, as it doesn't take long before her noises change, getting that desperate little edge she always tries to subdue without success. Taking her by surprise, he pulls her upwards with his cock buried in her ass, reaching around to push two fingers into her and thumb her clit. His touches quickly propel her into an orgasm that wracks her body so hard that it takes all of his strength to keep holding her before he follows her over the threshold.

And then her tears break and she sobs with her head leaned back against his shoulder, shaking from other emotions. He's not sure if it's relief or pain, if it's got anything to do with him or maybe just with Chris, but he cradles her in his embrace and presses kisses against her neck until the tension runs out of her body.

"Thanks," she whispers as he helps her down on the bed and curls around her. "I needed this."

"I know. You're welcome." He's pretty done, exhausted and sleepy, but still a lot less hung-up about everything. Sex has always been his best relaxant. He'll make sure not to forget about that in the future.

Burying his still hurting face into Dael's beyond-hope-chaotic hair, they fall asleep together.

When Jim wakes up in the evening, he's momentarily disoriented; then he's vaguely disappointed that Dael isn't here with him. The other half of his bed feels cool to his palm, she must've been gone for some time. He gets up and hits the bathroom before leaving the Jim&Bones bedroom to look for her.

He finds her in Chris' (and her) bedroom, dressed with nothing but her fake dick, turning in front of the large mirror to watch herself. Carefully, he walks into the room and joins her, putting his hands on her hips and looking over her shoulder as she squarely faces the mirror.

"Looking for something particular?" he asks after a necking kiss on her left earlobe. Her skin is still humid from a shower, her hair fuzzy from toweling.

"Take a guess," she says.

He looks at her, considering her figure and the change he'd perceived under his touch last night. "You gained some muscles, didn't you?"

"Yes." She stretches out her arms, flexing them. "I was taught self defense, and when I was considered too weak by my tutor, they suggested I take some anabolic steroids to improve more quickly." She smiles faintly. "The doctor was not averse to adding testosterone to the mix."

"Oh." Jim's brows rise in surprise. "So - you want to transition?"

"I didn't say that. I always wanted to try it and see how I'd feel with it. I love the extra energy it gives me, and the higher strength. I also didn't miss certain female - issues." She runs her hands from her flat chest down to her groin, settling her fingers around the base of the dildo. "But it didn't give me any sudden epiphany. It felt neither wrong nor like homecoming. It just felt different, like emphasizing other aspects of me."

Jim nods, unable to imagine that kind of gender fluidity for himself. "So you'd rather keep the flexibility to choose what you want to be in any given minute… or with certain partners?"

"Yes. I like to be a woman with women, and I like my dick when I'm with men. Although Christopher always sees foremost the woman in me."

"He looked pretty dedicated the one time I saw him giving you head."

"He loves it but I think it's the contrast to his image of me as a woman that is the real turn-on there." She sighs a little, as if that was a source of frustration.

"I'm not privy to his thoughts," Jim says. Wishing he could make her stop talking about people he doesn't want to think about right now, he reaches around and strokes her dick.

"And what do you think?" she asks him, her eyes large in the mirror.

"That I accept you in any way you want to be accepted, no matter what tag you pin on yourself," he says without hesitation. "And that I really want to have sex with you, no matter how." He grins as she shakes her head with a laugh.

Five minutes later, he rides her cock on the large couch in the living room, trying to forget that last time he'd been here, it had been Chris he'd been riding like this.

***

They establish a gentle routine, which is slightly different than the one Chris had had with Dael, but just as steady and without any surprises, offering a stable surrounding for the recovering man. They have breakfast, go swimming, spend lots of time lying together in bed, on the couch, on the beach - everywhere. They don't talk a lot and sometimes the silence feels oppressive to Leonard, as does the general feeling of low activity. He's used to the permanent buzzing and pulsing of the Enterprise, where even days off are embedded into the ongoing activities, where every second something unexpected could and frequently would happen. And even if everything goes according to plan, Jim, by the sheer force of his energy and endless willpower, injects his life with surprises, stirring him out of bored satiation, keeping him from falling prey to his own tendencies of moody overthinking and feelings of depression.

He misses that, misses Jim.

More than once, he takes his PADD in hand and drafts a message to him, but then he remembers Jim's face when they'd said good-bye and the words his husband, the man he'd never thought to leave, had said:

Go and enjoy your time with Chris, and for once, don't think of me.

What Jim hadn't said but meant was, Go and find the hell out what you want, because I can't answer it for you, and I can't live with the situation at hand forever.

Until he has some idea about what he wants, there's no use in writing to Jim. It would only make things worse.

One time he deletes a message, Chris quietly places one hand on his arm, and he wonders if his lover knows. But Chris never asks to send a message to Dael, and so Leonard doesn't mention Jim, pretending they're really just in a bubble of their own.

For a while, it almost works.

***

"Thanks for meeting me," the woman at his side says as they walk along a quiet path in one of the most boring corners of the hills above the city, the midday air overheated and dry.

"Any particular reason why you wanted to see me here instead of calling me to your office, Commodore?" Jim says directly, although neither of them is in uniform. Meeting a member of the Admiralty out here makes him feel as if he got beamed into a spy movie, not his favorite thing after the last months in conflict with the higher ranks. He'd also been called away straight from the couch, and would love to return to Dael and more enjoyable activities as quickly as possible.

Commodore Mori Illyon gives him an upward gaze from pitch-black eyes, an amused smirk on her face. She's tiny in size, short and slim, but makes it up by her personality and by her long, unnaturally blond hair that's always styled to absurd heights, quite in violation of regulations. She'd appear almost comical if one didn't know her substantial record as a 'fleet officer.

"First of all, sorry that I was out of the house when you came in for the first debriefings. I absolutely wanted to be there but, well…" She waves her arm.

There's no good answer to this, so Jim just keeps walking next to her with hands laced behind his back.

"Second, I'd like to ask you - how's Christopher? Real information, not the kind of crap you've dealt everyone at the Ball."

He frowns. "You know I can't speak about medical details." And why the hell should I share anything else with you people?

"See…" She stops and turns, facing him as good as she can, being two heads smaller than him. "I understand what you're thinking. I'm not asking you as a Starfleet member. I'm asking you as a friend of Christopher who's known him since academy time. In fact, I was speaking to him just on the Friday before his stroke, asking for his advice regarding Lieutenant Asimov."

Jim shrugs a little. "Chris never said a word about you." If Illyon were just any other officer, he might be willing to share more, but she's the temporary Head of Ship Operations for six weeks now, brought in by a selection board consisting of high-ranking officers and Federation officials. They'd wanted to have someone the active forces could relate to. Nobody had asked Jim, but he wouldn't have been in favor of her, not the least because she didn't appear to be a great politician, and he'd seen where this weakness had led for Chris.

That Illyon had accepted the position had actually surprised him, but maybe she's more ambitious than he'd have granted someone who'd been on and off long-range research ships for decades without apparently looking for more stripes.

"I was a year ahead of him but we had many courses together. Can't claim I've ever been his wingman, he had John for that, but we've become good friends. We didn't stay in contact as often as we should have, but whenever we talked it was as if we'd never been apart." She looks away, a gentle sigh on her lips. "Can't blame you for not believing me, after the shit that happened with Christopher."

He's unmoved. "Why don't you help me make up my mind by telling me why you'd want to know that? And don't give me the old friends crap, I had dozens of people messaging me over the last weeks with that line."

"I can imagine. As I said - can't blame you for being cautious right now regarding what you share with whom. Caution is good." She gestures them towards a rather forgotten, slightly rotten sight-seeing bench, and he sits down a good distance from her.

"Caution is definitely something Christopher should've exerted a little more," Illyon adds.

Despite basically having the same opinion, Jim Kirk doesn't take criticism of his beloved ones lightly. He feels his jaw setting.

"Don't bristle," the commodore says appeasingly. "We all have our weak spots. For example, Christopher is one of the few who knows that I spend every shoreleave with a dozen sexy young men on Risa. Generous pay, and their only duty is to make me feel like a queen for four weeks." She smiles, obviously reliving happy memories.

Not eager to go down TMI alley with his superior officer, Jim only says, "What's the point, Illyon?"

Her face morphs back into a serious expression. "First of all, I wanted to ask about Christopher because as his friend, I'm concerned about him. Second, I wanted to inquire about his state to decide whether there's any chance I could get him into the new Ship Ops advisory board I'm planning to install."

"Another 'fleet board?" Jim shakes his head incredulously. "He's barely ready to have anyone around him at all. I seriously doubt that he'll be ready to return to the admiralty within the next months." If ever, he adds in thoughts.

"So his state is as bad as the latest news articles suggest?" she asks, her expression showing nothing but concern for once.

"He's recovering fine," Jim says. "But he's not doing well yet."

"Your husband is with him, I've heard?"

"Yes."

"Good." She nods. "While you keep the home in order and show your face off with Dael in tow."

"Anything wrong with that?" he says, his shoulder muscles tensing.

"No, not at all. I heard she did a good job in her mission. Top-notch." Illyon smiles a little too sweetly. "Just be cautious. She's young, Kirk, really young."

"That translating to stupid, sir?" he asks icily.

"Oh, no. Christopher has little tolerance for fools, so I gather she's got to meet his high standards, even if it's not obvious at first glance. But as I said, she's young, and young people tend to make foolish decisions at times. That's in their nature."

"Sometimes foolish decisions turn out to be great decisions," Jim can't help reminding her.

She waves her hand. "Not everyone has your luck, Kirk. It could've ended differently."

"It wasn't luck that brought me through the last years."

"I know. You absolutely proved your worth, and we're glad to have you. The Enterprise refit proceeds as planned so far, and I'm looking forward to having her out there to test the new weapons."

"And the defense installations," he reminds her.

"And the defenses, right," Illyon concedes. She gets up. "I need to leave now. Why don't you enjoy the sight a little longer, Captain, considering that you're on leave? See you around soon." The commodore walks away, and knowing that it's been an order, Kirk folds his hands and stares at the ground for a while, weighting and finding the whole conversation lacking. He really could do without the admiralty at the moment, considering that half his encounters with them give him a headache and a foul taste in his mouth. If that's what Chris had felt each day in the last months, it's a miracle he endured it that long.

Jim comes home to Dael hanging up two of her paintings in the living room.

It's about damn time, he thinks, and a shame she couldn't do that with Chris around.

He still happily keeps her from finishing her work by seducing her into having incredibly hot sex on the kitchen table.

***

On the property to their left, there are horses.

Leonard had known this before he stares at the beautiful but also rather agitated black horse galloping towards them, because Dael had left him some "notes".

Notes, my ass, they are full-fledged dossiers about the half-dozen beach neighbors (names, family background, property owners, possible relations to Starfleet) as well as dossiers about the personnel working in their house between three and four in the morning, all sworn to silence and ordered to keep out of sight of Chris. Leonard isn't sure where she got all the information from but the intelligence training she'd gone through is clearly visible. The notes also show that she's isolated Chris just as efficiently as he's needed and demanded - but it's time to change that again.

Though getting run over by a horse had not been part of the plan, he thinks breathlessly as the beauty keeps aiming at them. He stretches out his arms, wondering what he might do to protect his lover.

"Doc, get out of the way," Chris says from behind and moves him aside with laughter in his voice. "You don't know shit about horses."

"Hey, I've had a few riding lessons too in my life," Leonard mutters, but then watches in awe how Chris manages to get the horse stopped and calmed down with little effort. He hadn't known he's with a veritable horse whisperer.

Two men approach them from where the horse had broken through the beach perimeter. The ease in Chris' posture while he'd dealt with the horse rapidly diminishes on the sight of the men, and his gaze nervously flickers towards Leonard. It's progress that Chris acknowledges the physical reality of other people which he hadn't really done before Dael, but such moments are still tricky, Chris more than likely to withdraw.

Leonard quickly moves forward, extending a hand. "Welcome, gentlemen. I suppose this is your horse?"

"Yes. I'm sorry for the hassle and glad you could catch him before anything happened," the man in the more stylish clothes answered and shakes the offered hand. He's about Leonard's age, a little chubbier and shorter, with long brown hair pulled together to a pony tail. "I'm Iro, and this is my peon George." The other man, with a shaved head and dressed in rough worker clothes, nods to Leonard, then walks towards the horse. The black stallion instantly makes a few nervous side steps, only calming under Chris' gently whispered words.

"Seems the horse doesn't like him, does it?" Leonard asks.

"They've got history. Nobody's fault, but - yes. George, why don't you wait back home, I think we've got it under control," Iro says. George glares at them but then marches back without further discussion.

"He's not really a peon, is he?" Leonard asks, vaguely remembering the antiquated word's meaning.

Iro shrugs with an amused smile. "Depends on the interpretation." His eyes wander to Chris. "Your friend seems to have a good hand for horses."

"He's grown up with them," Leonard says.

"Do you think he would mind bringing him back to my side of the fence?" Iro asks.

From the change in Chris's posture, Leonard knows that he listens, but he has no idea what Chris would want him to answer. At least not until Chris gives him a tiny nod and then simply walks away with the horse, which follows him obediently with his nose close to Chris's shoulder.

"He's not a talker, is he?" Iro asks as they follow the two in a distance.

"He's recovering from an injury," Leonard says.

"Interesting. Ashaire - which means light in Arabic - is too."

Leonard sourly wishes he'd read the dossiers better; he's sure Dael had memorized them all and would have known whether this might be the truth or just a convenient lie. Especially as it's been a little too much of a coincidence, having such a horse running towards Chris.

"Really," Iro adds as he notes Leonard's critical gaze. "He was mistreated by his last owner, and we're still working on the trust issue."

"Doesn't seem like George does a good job with that."

"I fear he doesn't know horses too well," Iro admits. "While your friend is quite another matter."

"You're not going to get him as your groom," Leonard states.

Iro hums noncommittedly. In front of them, Chris and the horse walk in perfect rapport, the animal keeping Chris' slow pace.

This is going to be trouble.

***

They socialize, not always to the best effect.

Dael drags him to an invitation at John Farnham's home. Eric and Arissa are there too, taking Dael away for cross-examination and leaving him with John for a while, which isn't his idea of a relaxed evening. Jim can still remember Chris' original statement that John isn't to be trusted, and he has never really changed that basic opinion. That John had engaged in brief moments of unusual self-reflection after the clusterfuck with Alain had appeased Jim slightly, but they'd probably never become good friends.

John's a bastard but at least he's a bastard on Chris' side, as Bones likes to put it.

Jim understands that Arissa is Dael's favorite female lover and a little more protective of her than Jim feels necessary, Eric is a cute anything-goes sub who likes to suck Dael's dick and has a crush on Chris but loses points for having moved in with John. He's happy when they can leave after a first-class four-dish menu without taking up the offer of spending the night together.

Two days later, he drags Dael to a get-together with his bridge officers and associated friends, hoping she'd get to know them a little better than at the Ball. Everyone is nice to her, no doubt about it, and she smoothly speaks Vulcan with Spock, pretends to be interested in Scotty's latest Enterprise warp engine improvements and is nice to Chekov who lengthily speaks about how tattoos were invented in Russia. But she doesn't get the in-jokes that have everyone laughing, keeps away from the punch and the buffet claiming she's not hungry, and in general doesn't speak when she can avoid it.

She leaves early, not wanting to spoil his party. He leaves not long after her, unable to pretend it's not already spoiled.

"Give her some time," Uhura tells him softly as she shows him out. "She's not you."

***

Leonard actually doesn't like horses, or the smell of them, or horse shit - as he finds out when he accompanies Chris to his new impromptu job training Ashaire. He's all for Chris meeting new people, but he's not going to let him out of his eyes on a foreign property as long as he's not 120% sure that Iro doesn't engage in some foul play.

Dael's notes have informed him that Iro is the founder and main owner of IXOS Transplanetary, a technology company with Federation-wide branches. He'd heard of the company before, like everyone in this part of the quadrant, and it's a little strange to be invited onto the property of someone that influential.

Just to keep himself occupied, he's shoveling horse shit. Three other horses populate the stables, and there's an actual groom around that tackles those. But Ashaire, Leonard learns, is something special, and watching Chris out on the green with the horse is something special too. He freezes a little as Iro appears and joins the two for a moment, but the man is carefully keeping his distance and soon leaves them to their own devices.

He hadn't been the only one to check out the neighbors. He remembers Iro's words when the man had come over to ask for Chris' help:

I know who your friend is - it would be pretty hard not to recognize him, considering the headlines of the last months. But rest assured that your identity is in good hands with me. We've got a shared interest - I want my horse to recover, and you want him to recover. If he wants to work with him, I'd love to give him that chance.

Of course Chris had accepted; not in so many words, but by being ready to leave for the stables within ten minutes, forcing Leonard to skip his shower so that he could join him. He's concerned that Chris will overdo it, keeps watching out for any instability in his walk and for alerts on his PADD that is connected to Chris' meddata tracking implant, but so far, all is well.

"It's always about the horse," George says close to him, and he gazes at the man. He still doesn't have a clue what George's role is but he sounds as if…

"You're jealous of a horse?" he asks a little amused.

"Just wait and see," the man says gloomily, and vanishes. Leonard is damn happy when Chris leaves the horse and walks towards the stable, picking him up with a nod. They return to their own beach for a shower and a rest.

"Don’t want to overdo it," Chris says as he curls around Leonard. "He's a marvelous stallion, but with a pretty bad history."

"Sounds familiar," Leonard mutters, and is glad when he's rewarded with a chuckle. "I just don't get this George guy. What the hell is his job?"

The chuckle increases momentarily before Chris says, "He's Iro's slave, of course."

"Uh, what?"

Chris rolls up on one elbow. "They're lovers in a D/s relationship. You know that concept?" He smirks.

"Did Iro tell you that?"

"No, but it's been obvious to me from the first second on."

Leonard digests that. "Could've told me. Guess I'm still too much vanilla to recognize such a relationship right away." He strokes Chris' neck. "He's jealous of the horse."

"No surprise here," Chris says, and leans into his touch before adding, "The moment you feel like that… feel free to remind me where I belong."

"Whoa, okay." Leonard tightens his grip on Chris, pulling his lover into a deep kiss. Using his other hand to their best advantage, he brings them to a sweet but messy orgasm that leaves Chris boneless in his arms. Too tired for another shower, they move away from the soggy spot and fall asleep.

***

"I'd like to take you to one of Arissa's special dance parties on Friday," Dael says without introduction after their joined lunch, and the way she emphasizes the special conjures rather erotic images. She catches Jim in a really bad moment, though, since he'd just been sent another news article about the four of them, seemingly respectful but with a few nasty barbs hidden in the fine print.

"I really don't want to attend anything that could bring us into the headlines, Dael," he therefore says stiffly, and closes the article without showing it to her. It's interesting that during McAllister's campaign, someone seemed to have taken pains to keep the three of them out of the headlines, only delivering blows against Chris. Over the last months, though, their foursome had been pulled more into the spotlight. They'd been approached by this and that glamour magazine that tried to get a hold onto some exclusive stories about The Powerful Quartet, as some asshole has christened them, an expression that now makes the round in the admiralty as The Potent Quartet or TPQ, not always meant as a teasing joke. The Starfleet press office had already warned him that he'd be forced to make some statement sooner or later and are only waiting for his confirmation of an interview. He doubts he'll be able to escape this time, but maybe he could keep the others out of the picture, more or less.

So yeah, special parties are absolutely out at this time when he doesn't even kiss Dael in public.

Jim should've known that Dael wouldn't simply give in; that evening she gives him her PADD with Arissa on the line. He takes it with an inward sigh.

"Heard you don't feel secure attending a party of mine," the woman says.

"No, I don't. I really want to keep us out of the news for a while, so any major party is out."

On the other side of the connection, Arissa shakes her head, the swing of her curls underlining her disagreement. "Okay. Let's start from the beginning. No guest of my parties has ever ended in any headline, with any picture. And I've had some pretty illustrious names here over the last twenty years. And then… I hate saying it, but Chris had a problem. He hadn't been properly socialized in our circles, that's why they got him."

"Aside of the problem that someone in Fed Intelligence was keeping tabs on him," Jim says coolly.

"Aside of that but even then - he wasn't as cautious as he should've been, because he's never before been forced to consider his personal safe space this way. He owns the Idaho but he's never really been a member of that scene. He knows how to handle the anonymity of short encounters but not how to play the game for a fulfilled life away from prying eyes. It's really very easy to live out your kinks when you're in the right circles." She shakes her head once more. "I saw the problem but we aren't close, so I wasn't the right person to break it to him. And Dael is a sweetheart who'll eat her tongue before criticizing him."

He looks over to Dael, who shrugs defiantly.

"I don't know you very well yet, Jim, but Dael knows you, and when she says you'd have a good time here, then maybe you should trust her and yourself and let it happen."

"I'll think about it," Jim says.

"Good. See you around." She twinkles and closes the connection.

He shakes his head as he realizes he's really considering her invitation. "Pretty convincing woman, huh?"

On the couch, Dael folds around her bent legs. "She's really special, and I like her a lot. But she's not right about Christopher and me; when I feel the need to speak up, I do so. Everything was fine while I was still here. I knew he'd be unhappy without me, but I never thought that he could really be in danger." She smiles tiredly. "I didn't see the same risks as Arissa did. I thought nothing could ruin Christopher's reputation."

"If the Admiralty's Ball told us anything, he's got still quite the reputation among the Federation ambassadors. Within Starfleet it suffered a blow in the eyes of some, but even there the great job he did with the Pathfinder refit remains beyond criticism."

Dael looks unconvinced, but doesn't seem inclined to pursue this discussion. "So we will attend the party," she says instead, and it's less of a question and more of a statement.

"Hmmm, guess we will," Jim says and picks up one of the apples Tom had delivered to them a day ago, juggling it in the air thoughtfully.

***

Their life is dominated by a new routine: an early breakfast is followed by visiting the horse, then they spend lunchtime at their own beach before the afternoon training, after which they return to their house for the evening and night. Everything is done in close companionship, with more or less intimate action sprinkled in between. They still don't talk a lot, or maybe just Chris doesn't, while Leonard can't stop blathering to fill the silence.

He regularly gives Chris physiotherapy sessions, which his lover accepts without complains, but it's the work with Ashaire that has the greatest effect on Chris' recovery process. The cane discarded, Chris is walking fine on his own aside from rare moments when he's really tired and less steady on his feet. Chris' overall mood has improved remarkably, and he's a little more willing to speak outside of the bedroom. It still takes a week before Chris exchanges some words with Iro, and Leonard is inwardly breaking the champagne when he watches them from a distance, talking about the stallion - of course.

He's not surprised when they end in Iro's house a few days later. The large room they're shown to is filled with screens, tracking the medium-sized empire the technology tycoon has erected in Federation space and beyond. Their host explains some of the information they can see on the walls, detailing a few of the problems he's currently working on with his distributed team of advisors. The man's doing a great job in opening the door to discussions without asking Chris for opinions right away. It's still very obvious that IXOS Transplanetary wouldn't be averse to having the strategic experience of former Fleet Admiral Christopher Pike at its disposal.

After this day, training units with the horse usually end with lunch in the control room, George being the avid servant, secretary, and man for everything else that needs to get brought in or carried out of the highly secured area, while Iro and Leonard talk and Chris listens, contributing a little more every day.

At times, Leonard might be jealous of the sparks of interest Iro's expositions can elicit but he knows that the only way Chris will really recover is when his lover finds his own inner strength and center again.

And for that, Leonard needs to let go of Chris a little more every day too.

***

The days go quickly, the original idea of Dael and him spending a few days on a vacation of their own soon discarded over the many meetings about the Enterprise refit that Jim feels he needs to attend. Dael herself hadn't seemed eager to leave either and alluded to a project that she's currently working on for Intel that might be important for her further career. She also helps a friend of hers - some Caitleen or something - in an engineering project, which eats up a full week which Jim isn't very happy about, but he doesn't want to stand in the way of her future (he definitely sympathizes with Chris here).

When Dael takes him to Arissa's place for the party he's been promised, he's damn ready for an evening during which he can enjoy himself without guarding his every move, hoping that their host knows what she's talking about regarding security.

He's in black leather pants and a white shirt, not having managed to buy a really hot outfit yet. In stark contrast to that and by his explicit request, Dael wears the outfit she wore at the Rainbow Ball, all yellow wet-look pieces showing lots of skin, and those incredible boots. The second she leaves her bedroom in it, he wants to go down on her and after an appreciating moment does so, considering giving head to her a perfect start to the evening. Her orgasm leaves a red flush on Dael's cheeks, causing Arissa to give them a knowing, appreciating smirk when she opens the door to them.

The location mostly consists of one large, high-ceiled dance hall and four adjacent smaller rooms, two of them with tables and chairs, the other two with beds and toys. The dance floor is already full and the two bars crowded, laser lights flickering through the half-dark with the psychedelic music a hypnotizing flow embedding everything. For a moment, they socialize with others, then Dael sends him off to have fun while she reconnects with some more friends. After all, it's her first party appearance since her mission.

Soon, Jim's a part of the crowd, dancing like he hadn't danced in years, his vision a blur of colors and the sounds carrying him away into the bouncing rhythm, wonderful bodies moving all around him with arms high, guys and girls of all colors and species in motion. He's floating, flying, free and careless, the things that weigh him down forgotten, even Dael not his concern in this moment.

Someone catches his eyes, a tall, nicely meaty guy dancing right in front of him. He's bare-chested and shaven, with long sexy legs clad in skin-tight, blue stretch material, bright-green eyes sparkling in a face framed by short, silver-colored curls. When the guy catches him looking, Jim smiles invitingly, and it doesn't take long before they're dancing together face to face, hands on each other's hips. The first kiss is perfect and hot enough to make Jim's knee buckle a little; he's still so damn underfucked that it's a miracle it doesn't leak out of his ears. Not that the guy seems to mind as he pulls Jim's hips a little closer, making their dance a rather good approximation to frottage now that they're both rock-hard.

The guy leans forward. "Want to move this somewhere else?" he asks, flicking his tongue out to sensually lick Jim's earlobe, before pulling back and adding with a twinkle, "We don't have to - Arri doesn't mind a little show on the floor."

Jim needs a second to parse Arri as Arissa, then shakes his head. "Better to move somewhere else." If he were a little inebriated, having a crowd watching might cater to his exhibitionist tendencies, but he's as sober as he could be in an atmosphere like this, and still a little too nervous about a picture of him in flagranti making it out of these rooms. As they leave the dance floor, he catches a glimpse of Dael who beams as she sees them, giving him an encouraging nod before turning back to the man she's been talking to.

The room the guy chooses isn't completely empty, as to be expected, but still a lot more private. The guy pulls him down in an inviting corner before crouching over him for more kisses and a snakelike dance of agile hips that leaves Jim breathlessly horny. Their pants quickly gone, they're soon onto it with everything they've got, hands and lips and cocks. When Jim comes, he's out for a second because it blows him away, the gorgeous orgasm merging with the arousing noises of others, the subdued music from the dance hall, and a fabulously sexy guy in his arms whose strong body covers him like a blanket of hot skin.

They cuddle for quite a while afterwards, too done for another round but not inclined to part yet, although they don't feel like speaking, don't even exchange names when they finally draw apart, restore their looks as far as possible, and walk back to the dance hall.

"Need to go, got to work tonight," the guy says apologizing as he makes a first step towards the entry. "It was great, loverboy. Have a wonderful night." He kisses Jim with a bit of heated tongue in the mix, then leaves towards the checkroom.

"Do you know who that was?" Dael whispers unusually excitedly as she suddenly appears at his side, hooking her arm into his. "That was Norden, the singer of A Taste of Mondrian!"

"Never heard of them," he replies, a little lie as of course he knows about this band, top chart inhabitants for the last years. He totally doesn't care if he'd had a celebrity fuck as long as the guy doesn't either. "And I'm not going to get an autograph for you," he teases, before noticing her face falling a little - obviously she really cares about that singer, and he could be nice about it.

"If I see him again, I'll get one for you," he says, doubting that would ever happen. "Come on, let's dance." Using a quick diversion strategy, he pulls her onto the dance floor, having every intention to make her evening as good as his has already been.

***

Chris wants to have a boat, and so Leonard organizes one. It's small but with a sun shade, and they need to take care that they don't drift too far, but it's fun to row out onto the sea after the afternoon training with Ashaire. Leonard does the rowing, because Chris is tired from the day, lying on the pillows they'd distributed in the boat to make it comfortable for whatever activities they have in mind, lube, condoms and towels close by.

He likes watching Chris like this, sexily stretched out without an ounce of self-consciousness about his looks. Not too many people have that kind of relationship with their own body, and it reminds him of Jim and their first vacation together, which had been a cheap last-minute-weekend trip to Florida after one especially exhausting week at the academy. They'd rented a motorboat and tried to see a few crocodiles, but essentially, they'd spent the whole weekend just going at it like bunnies. He smiles a little wistfully over the memories; it feels like it's been ages since he'd been that mad about Jim.

"What are you thinking?" Chris asks curiously.

"Nothing in particular," Leonard says lightly. "Though now that you ask… you could improve the scenery for me." Jim had always liked to jerk off to him watching, and he had little doubt Chris would be just as willing to deliver a little show.

"Could I?" A lazy smile curls the edges of Chris' mouth.

"Why don't you give yourself a hand, warm yourself up."

Chris rolls a little over to give Leonard a better view, running his left hand down between his legs. "Like that?" he asks as he curls his fingers around his dick, gently pulling the still soft member.

"Exactly," Leonard says and licks his lips.

The erection slowly grows in size as Chris keeps rubbing, now with eyes turned to slits but with his gaze still on Leonard.

"The first time I had sex on a boat was during my academy times," Chris says, taking Leonard a little by surprise.

"Ah. That instructor?"

"Yes." His fingers slowly teasing the shaft, Chris' eyes wander off. "He liked to joke about my reluctance to undress and show off for him, so he made it his personal mission to cure me from that."

"Did he?" Leonard's good mood takes a sharp dive upon hearing the word cure. "There's nothing bad about not wanting to show off."

"No." His lover spreads his legs farther while keeping on fisting himself. "It was just his preference."

"And you liked to please him?"

"Yes."

"Did you love him?"

That makes Chris pause in his movements. He looks back at Leonard with a thoughtful smile. "It wasn't about that." He suddenly goes on all fours and crawls over to Leonard, kneeling down between his slightly spread knees in a shocking posture of offering, palms flat on his upper thighs.

"Tell me what you want, doc. Anything," Chris says beggingly, and Leonard is stunned to silence by the sight, his throat constricted by the sudden vision of a much younger Chris wanting nothing more than to please a man he'd accepted as authority. The rudder blades sag into the water as his grip on them loosens. He badly needs to find a good answer, can't simply say no or voice his heart-felt opinion that any person who's abusing his rank within Starfleet to get his hands on young cadets should be shoved out dishonorably by a public tribunal, because that would apply to Chris just the same. He'd really like to attribute Chris' current behavior to his psychotic episode, but he fears there's an easier, albeit more frustrating explanation available.

With a sigh he lets the oars go for good and cradles Chris' face in his hands, running his thumbs over softly crinkled skin. "I want nothing that you don't want to give freely," he says.

Confusion mirrors in Chris' eyes. "The games we played…"

"It's still always about you wanting it. If you say stop, I'll stop."

"I won't say stop," Chris says simply, and the tight feeling in Leonard's chest increases a tenfold.

And that's the truth, he thinks. Chris won't say stop in a scene once he'd said yes and turned himself over to a higher authority. Whether he really couldn't or just wouldn't, out of some misunderstood ideal of how a scene should look like, Chris won't say stop. No wonder Chris hadn't subbed in ages; at least he has some sense of self-preservation left.

Well, if that bastard had set out to turn Chris into the perfectly obedient plaything, it would be his job to teach his lover healthy boundaries in a scene, Leonard thinks with a clenched jaw. Someday in the future, when Chris would be ready to deal with the subtleties of what consensual really means. For now, though, he just wants to make Chris understand that he doesn't have to please him with such offers.

He pulls Chris up and kisses him lovingly. "You already give me everything I need," he says. "Can't get any more perfect."

Then he carefully maneuvers Chris onto the pillows and gives him the best possible blowjob.

***

There is another party, another place, another setting, and this time Jim is licking his lips in nervous excitement as they depart their cab.

He's always liked to submit to women. It's not a must-have, he could just as well fill the traditional male part, be active and in the lead, but submitting to a woman's desire has an incredibly freeing effect on him, more so than when he does it with men. He doesn't feel in competition, can just relax to the erotic tension of those moments - and with Dael, following her lead had come easily and painlessly from the get-go because it'd been so much safer.

There had been a lot of tension back then on the first day of all of them being together, and Jim would've hated to see it go to hell due to him doing anything wrong with her, stepping over any of her vaguely discussed boundaries. But they'd worked perfectly together, kinky and experimental without going to extremes, everything sexy and consensual and safe. Dael is as much of a gentle caretaker nature as Bones, and that knowledge alone makes Jim feel protected.

Now that he follows her upstairs to Arissa's bi-level apartment on top of an old house in the outskirts of San Francisco, he's both excited and a little nervous. What they'd have tonight - if he went with it - might be the most intense session he'd had in a while. He likes challenges, still rarely backs down from them, but he's reached his limit lately regarding the things he can deal with, and so there's a tiny edge of fear as Dael leads him into a room that looks like an office, and tells him to strip.

Swallowing hard for a moment, he does as ordered, eyes locked with hers. When he's done, he stands straight, hands laced behind his back and a light tremble in his body, from his nerves and the cool air of the room.

"Easy," she whispers and moves forward, cradling his neck and putting a comforting kiss on his cheek, then his mouth. She's all in leather, her hair wildly styled with blue and silver sparkles in it, her eyes emphasized with strong makeup but the tattoos unhidden, sharp and dangerous. It's in moments like these when her gaze rests on him, intense and a little challenging, that Jim keeps having tiny flashbacks to the Narada and the Romulan who'd been almost successful in killing him. With effort he tears his eyes away from her face, focusing on the opposite wall instead and inhaling deeply.

She makes a few steps and sits down on a chair. "Kneel before me," she says, and he goes down. The floor is old wood, painted white. Next to her on the desk, there are items lying, half out of his sight.

"We've talk about this before," Dael says as she runs slim fingers over his face, his lips. He nods, remembering the few chats they've had about rules and regulations in the context of sexual games. "I know where your limits are, and I fear I'll keep well within them." She smiles apologetically.

"No problem," he says hoarsely. "I'd actually prefer hot and sweet tonight, if you don't mind."

Dael nods. "You'll get that, I promise." She half-turns and takes a rubber mask from the table. His throat is a little dry as she puts it on; it covers him both snug and firm as she closes it in the back of his head, leaving only eyes, nose and mouth free. The eyes, though, she covers a second later, leaving him effectively blind. He takes a deep breath as he acclimates to the change of perception, drawing his attention to sound, touch and smell alone. Dael's got a faint, spicy scent on her that lingers on his lips after she runs her fingers over them, teasing him into kissing them. Outside, people are moving, a distant sound of modern music in the air. The room seems even cooler than before, and he shivers again.

"We'll be ready soon," Dael says. Something like a belt goes around his waistline and leather cuffs around his wrists, then locked to the belt behind his back, left and right of his spine. It leaves him defenseless and exposed, but it also eases his nerves and helps him reach the state of mind in which he can let things happen to him instead of wanting to be the master of the scene.

It'd taken Bones a long time until Jim could go quite that far that easily, and he's very proud and sure of himself, all of a sudden. Maybe he doesn't have to prove anything to Dael, but they'd meet more of Arissa's exclusive circle of kinky friends out there, and last thing he wants is people joking about Jim Kirk being all hot air - weak.

The impulse to prove something, to pretend he's cool, collected and in control even in his current state lasts through her locking a pair of ankle cuffs with a longer chain in between, but crumbles a little as she applies a last detail. The rather large gag fills half of his mouth, spreading his teeth almost uncomfortably. He's fighting the impulse to push it out and doesn't completely succeed, but she wins out and buckles it up.

"Easy," she says again, her quickened breathing signaling her increased arousal. Suddenly there's her hand in his, pressing it. "I'll watch you at all times, I'll see when you get uncomfortable. When we do something more intense, I'll hold your hand. Press three times if you're not okay and want to stop the scene, then we'll talk immediately. Three times is stop. Understood?"

He nods, and does a test run on her order. Knowing she'll be there calms him a little, and he's quite steady on his feet when she helps him up and leaves the room with him, joining the others. He can feel the change of ground; the old creaky wood of the office changes to cool, sleek parquet flooring in the corridor and to icy stone stairs as they go up and finally to soft carpet as they walk into a rather overheated room. The chill of the walk, increased by the sweat running down his neck and back, is tempered within seconds as Deal carefully leads him along until he's ordered to stop. There are voices of men and women, subdued and further dampened by the mask covering his ears; there's the smell of candles and alien incense, a bit heavier than he would have preferred. The atmosphere is cheerful but also a little hushed, concentrated and focused in the way the best play parties are, and he inhales again, willing his shoulder muscles to relax.

"I'm going to sit down, and you'll kneel before me," Dael whispers. "There's a large cushion right in front of you."

He's going to have to trust her for that, and is rewarded with a very gentle landing on something fluffy that adjusts to him comfortably.

"Good boy," her voice comes in from in front of him, and her fingers cradle his hooded head. She directs him to lean forward, and so he ends with his left cheek in her lap between her spread legs, her hands massaging his shoulders and neckline. It's soothing and arousing, with the warmth adding to his settling relaxation. He's floating a little, losing himself in the moment that consists of barely anything beyond her gentle caresses and the smell of leather from her pants in his nose, again the slightly psychedelic music a layer above it all.

There are others, but he fades them out; they're irrelevant. So when at last someone touches him, running hands down his lower back and ass, he needs a moment to even register it. And then there's a slim hand holding his, Dael being his anchor, and something wet and slick runs over his hole in clear intent. It's surprising and hot, and without thinking he grunts into the ball gag and stretches out his body, welcoming the touch. He doesn't know what it is, assumes it's a tongue but is fairly convinced that no human could go as deep as whatever it is eases past his ring muscle, toying with his sudden, burning need for more. The intruder seems to comply with the wish written all over his inflamed, demanding body, and takes him deeper and deeper, stimulating him in ways that brings him completely under, turns him into a heap of pure need for release -

- and he orgasms just like that, his balls contracting and propelling his come painfully out of his hard cock, his deep groan caught by the gag.

When he comes up from the gigantic explosion, he curls in Dael's lap, rubbing his head against her body in the absolute need to get closer. She wraps her arms around him like a shelter, whispering beautiful things into his ear - in Romulan, no less, it's becoming a weird fetish between them - and he whimpers because this is oh-so-good and it's still only the beginning.

He's never loved her more than in this moment.

***

On the other side of the planet, Leonard lies in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering what Jim is doing right now. To his right, Chris is still asleep, the horse training and the meds taking more toll than they should, and he runs his fingers over the soft, warm body in a strange impulse to prove to himself that this is the here and now.

He'd craved this for so long, sometimes he wonders if he'd craved more an illusion than reality. Chris is marvelous but he's still also just a man, no miracle worker, no sex god to be put on a pedestal, and he'd probably done that at times. Had made him larger than life, had fallen more for the possibilities than for facts, ignored the feet of clay Chris had like everyone else.

Maybe it's the same for Chris; despite their intentions to keep the other two out of this vacation, he sometimes catches him staring at one of Dael's paintings, or idly playing with one of the pens she's left. In fact, all of her art equipment is still here, and at times Leonard wonders what that means. An "I can't paint without you" or maybe a promise, "I'll be back if you need me"? In any case, the reminders of her former presence are everywhere, in the little notes she's left for Chris at various places, her spices in the kitchen, the t-shirt she forgot and that now hangs over one of the bedroom chairs, Chris' favorite spot at the beach which had been her choice originally. Sometimes, Leonard feels like an intruder into something that would be round without him, wonders if he's more part of the problem than the solution.

But whenever this happens, Chris looks at him like he does now, the gaze of sleepy blue slowly clearing, a smile growing on those beautiful lips, an invitation written all over those open features… and Leonard gets weak, unable to resist this lure.

"I said I was yours and I meant it," Chris had stated in his recording, when he'd bared his soul in a way that Leonard hadn't expected at all. "But it's not something I should ever have said, you know? Just another Pandora's box, a box in a box and you keep opening the lids and then leave me hanging there with new knowledge."

He'd listened to it so often, and it never gets easier, because Chris had been right, Leonard had pushed for confessions he hadn't been ready for.

"I need to know you can deal with what happens when you unlock those parts of me that I don't let out usually."

Can he really deal with it any better today?

"You can have all of me. Just be sure what you do." After what he'd learned about Chris on the boat, his lover had meant it exactly that - all of him, without limits. A scary offer, and still…

He rolls them over and makes love to Chris in a fervid flare of wanting.

***

In mind-boggling contrast to their last event, Jim and Dael spend the next weekend at Tom's farm for a little family gathering.

Maybe he should feel weird, but there's something soothing about attending a barbecue in the middle of Chris' chosen, accepting family. Despite Chris' statement that Tom and he are very different, they're both easy-going men and have no problem connecting over various subjects like that really hot motorbike that HoKiBa presented at the last Moscow Car Show and serious discussions about the perfect steak preparation. At first, Tom's two kids claim Dael's focus, but then Nat pries her away from them. They sit on the veranda together for a long time, no doubt talking about Chris, while he, Tom and his wife Cornelia have a beer together and teach Tom's younger girl how to flip the sausages.

A great way to spend one's Sunday.

When they leave, Jim invites Nat to come visit them, but she declines, saying, "From the first day I knew Chris, he's always been funny about his living space. Extremely protective. I've never gone into any of his rooms or apartments without explicit invitation by him, and I can't help but seeing the apartment as his apartment. I know that it's become more than that, that Dael lives there and you too, but still… I'll visit you when he's back. "

"Okay," Jim says, understanding her reasoning without necessarily sharing the feeling. He looks for Dael and finds her down on one knee saying good-bye to the kids, promising them she'll return soon. The scene is a picture of domesticity, as she's patting their heads and putting kisses on slightly dirty foreheads. It could be funny or maybe a little laughable, this kind of almost unreal family idyll - but instead it's a punch to his guts, a scene materializing from the depths of his subconscious, a child's dreams forgotten for so many years. Next to him, Nat says something but it's inaudible through the white noise in his head, the realization that what was a farfetched, impulsive idea when he'd told the others could really come true.

He blinks and shakes his head. Never count your chickens before they've hatched, he's learned in his life, and this… this could be within his reach today, and out of it tomorrow.

"Jim?" He looks up, meeting Dael's questioning gaze.

"All fine," he says smoothly, hiding his inner uproar. "Ready to leave?"

He's very quiet on the way back, and while she glances at him once in a while, she never starts a discussion either.

***
Onto part 3/4