Trek fic: The Wisdom of Age, Pike/Boyce, R
Title: The wisdom of age
Series: Star Trek Reboot
Pairing: Pike/Boyce (Kirk/McCoy and cross pairings mentioned)
Series: Fuck My Life
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Word count: around 2400
This is a birthday gift for the lovely imachar and this year it's (almost) on time! I hope you enjoy the boys.
Summary: Why has Captain Kirk been sending Admiral Boyce mysteriously encoded data packets?
Author's Note: this exists in the Fuck My Life universe, although the only thing that matters is that Pike and Boyce are a couple, as are Jim and Bones, and the two pairs have a friends-with-benefits set-up.
Phil slouched on the couch, padd by his side, listening to the sounds of his partner pottering in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity of it still caught his breath sometimes, a spike of incredulous delight that - despite all that had gone wrong in the Federation in the past year - this was his life. A satisfying job, a small but lovely house set in the woods with distant views of the bay, and the rising star of the Admiralty keeping his bed warm and, apparently, their kitchen clean.
The padd chirped and he looked down to see a new message had arrived. "Chris," he called.
"Hmm, what?" Chris stuck his head round the door.
"I've had another of those inexplicable messages from Kirk. Have you worked out what's going on yet?"
Chris lent against the door frame, casually dressed in old jeans and a faded button-down shirt with the top two buttons open, looking every inch the part of Terra's favourite hero, given that the photogenic crew of the Enterprise had now departed for deep space. "I'm pretty sure they're packets of encrypted data and at some point he'll presumably send a key that unscrambles it all, it's a game he's playing with you." Chris grinned at Phil lazily, thumbs hooked suggestively in the belt loops of his jean. "Or playing with us, I guess. He must know I'll be the one who ends up decoding it for you."
Phil smiled at the memory of some of the 'games' they'd played with young Captain Kirk. "Non-regs encrypted data? Is this anything we should be worrying about? Political intrigue or something?"
"Doesn't seem like it," replied Chris with a shrug. "I did make some broad hints in my last official briefing call with him, but he just gave me that cat-got-the-cream grin of his and said all would be revealed when the time was right. I'm guessing it's some Kirk scheme."
"Right. Should we be worrying that the captain of our flagship is spending his time hacking Starfleet comms to send out secret messages for his own amusement?"
That elicited a dry laugh from Chris. "If we were going to worry about shit like that, we never should've given him the ship to start with. The damned Kobayashi Maru made that clear. Some things about Jim Kirk just can't be changed, you know that." He glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall. "Hang on a minute, it's nearly time."
Chris disappeared back into the kitchen and returned with a small tray with a bottle and two glasses. "Shift over, I've got a particularly fine bottle of champagne here."
"Champagne?" queried Phil. His tastes normally ran to high-quality bourbon, and Chris tended to prefer vodka. "Of course, we're just hanging on for midnight. I don't see why we should wait until tomorrow to celebrate. And here we go, counting down to the hour...."
Phil glanced down at his padd, trying to hide the ambivalent expression he could feel on his face. He prided himself on his maturity and self-acceptance and he certainly didn't want Chris thinking he needed reassurance or empty platitudes about how the years hadn't changed him. Nevertheless, he didn't really feel like celebrating. He'd have been perfectly happy to let this particular day slide by unnoticed.
"Hey, another message from Jim," he said, grateful for the distraction. "Different from the rest. D'you think that's the key?"
Chris peered over his shoulder. "Looks like it, here, give me your padd." He fiddled for a minute or two. "Okay, there we go, it's pulling together, looks like a photo to me, a photo of.... oh.... oh!."
"Good lord! That's quite something."
The two men peered down at the screen of the padd.
Chris started to chuckle. "Yes, well. This is Kirk we're talking about after all."
"Indeed, a lot of very naked Kirk." Phil twisted the padd to examine the angles. "I'm impressed by his flexibility."
"The doctor's not doing too badly himself." Chris slid an arm round Phil's waist, tucking himself in close behind him so he could peer at the padd over Phil's shoulder. "Leonard's certainly keeping himself fit."
"Too true," Phil replied. "He's been whining to me that Kirk makes him do the same combat training as the rest of the senior crew, apparently for the safety of the ship."
"Hah! More likely so that Kirk can have a boyfriend in great shape. Looks like it's working." Chris nibbled thoughtfully up the side of Phil's neck. "So McCoy writes to you, does he?"
Phil obligingly titled his head to give Chris easier access, shifting closer to the long, lean body at his side. "Yeah, for some reason he's decided to make me his bitch buddy, it's one long string of grumbles about space, the ship and the crew, with an entire sub-section devoted to Jim, of course. Although Spock gets quite a bit of space too." He lent back to let his lips brush over Chris's cheek. "All CMOs need an outlet, you know, especially when they serve under brash, brilliant and utterly annoying captains."
Chris caught Phil's face with his free hand. "Need an outlet, do you? Maybe I can help with that." He pulled Phil into a slow, deep, filthy-wet kiss, controlling it with all the confidence of half a lifetime of knowing each other.
After a long moment Phil pushed him away. "Hang on, so all those strange messages from Jim. They only added up to one photo?"
"Hmm, you've got a point, let's see." Chris slid his arms around Phil's waist to fiddle on the padd. "Well spotted, there's a whole set." He projected them up onto the media wall that filled one side of their lounge and put them into slideshow mode.
"Good god! That's just...." Both men began to laugh incredulously, with Chris taking advantage of the moment to pull Phil's shirt free and slide his hand up under it, stroking across the warm, smooth skin.
"Commanding the flagship isn't enough to keep them busy so they've worked their way through the Kama Sutra in their spare time?" exclaimed Chris.
"Apparently so," replied Phil, "and decided it would be a great idea to share the results with their superior officers. I hope Kirk's encryption was damned secure, the tabloids would wet themselves to get hold of these."
"Don't worry, his coding's superb, it's a good thing he's on our side. This is classic Kirk, he just wanted an excuse to install a camera in the ceiling of his cabin and talk Leonard into a bit of voyeurism."
"Oh I wouldn't under-estimate Leonard," said Phil with a grin. "Jim may come up with the crazy ideas but once you get him warmed up, Leonard is a kinky little shit and more than capable of filling in the details. As I found out in those last weeks before the Enterprise took off."
"Oh, you were having a little one-on-one with the doctor were you, while Jim and I were working our asses off to get the ship ready for launch?" Chris gave Phil as severe a look as he could manage while being plastered up against him at the same time.
"Fuck yeah!" Phil grinned back unrepentantly. "Leonard was on one hell of a learning curve to get ready to be CMO. I found that performance rewards acted as a very good incentive."
Chris regarded him with mock horror. "Admiral Boyce! I am shocked, shocked I tell you."
"Oh stuff you. I seem to remember you suddenly getting all territorial and having a second private hand-over ceremony for the Enterprise that involved you screwing Jim very thoroughly in the captain's chair."
"Yes, well." Chris suddenly looked more than a little embarrassed. "We're not talking about that. I apologized to him for that."
"Oh, you needn't have bothered. I heard via Leonard that he loved every minute of it." Phil could see from the tight set of Chris's face that he was still bothered by his fit of jealousy with Jim, so he steered the conversation back the images still scrolling by on the media wall. "Why do some of their outrageous positions seem to be repeated but others not?"
Chris, accepting the change of subject with relief, flicked the images into light-table view. "Hmm, we've got two goes at, let's see.... three of the positions?" He started changing the order of the pictures, moving them too fast for Phil to see the pattern he was hunting.
"I get it!" exclaimed Chris. "They're letters. Oh fucking hell, they've done the Kama Sutra of the alphabet. Here, if you arrange them like this, you get H-A-P-P-Y B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y." He abandoned the padd to slide his hands down under the belt of Phil's pants. "That's pretty creative, happy birthday to you along with a visual guide of various ways we could celebrate."
"Hell Chris," protested Phil. "I couldn't get into most of those positions when I was thirty years younger. If I tried now, you'll be calling chiropractor to get me untangled again."
"I'm not exactly that athletic any longer either, and my visit with Nero didn't help much. I'm just saying we could use them as a guide."
"You're not bored with what we do, are you?" Phil immediately hated the note of uncertainty in his voice. But dammit, he was still slightly unsure about his ability to hold and keep Chris's interest, with the other man a decade younger than him and having never before shown any inclination to a committed relationship, other than with his ships.
Chris's new-found fame didn't help matters either. The gossip media remained obsessed with the officers of the Enterprise, running stories and images at every opportunity, but the Enterprise was - to the relief of the crew - a long way away from the nearest journalist. Admiral Pike was the face on Terran news promoting change in Starfleet while facing down opponents who wanted Terra to withdraw from the Federation. Christopher Pike was the Narada hero who could actually be spotted walking on the streets of San Francisco. In these uncertain times, he combined a natural authority with gorgeous looks that meant their discreet home received bags of fan mail every week.
"Dammit Phil, don't do this." Chris pushed Phil roughly back onto the cushions of the couch, covering his lover's body with his own. "I love what we do, you know that. But we know each other so well, we do tend to default to our favorite positions, and do many of the same things each time. Our personal pretty boys have taken the trouble to send us some rather inspiring material from the other side of the sector. Let's have fun with it. It's two hundred years since sixty-five has been retirement age for anyone. I will not let you play the grumpy old man. Now let's see."
He looked up at the mosaic of images up on their wall. "Well, B and R are right out - in fact I suspect photo manipulation may have been involved. And I don't think either of us can pull off P at this point."
Phil smiled up at him, as ever left breathless by his surge of bottomless affection for the man he could now call his partner. "I do remember a spectacular P or two, back in the day at the end of your command school training, when you were showing off just how strong you were."
"Hmm, I was good, wasn't I?" Chris sounded unsurprisingly smug. "What else have we got? Y is easy enough and T is an old classic. A looks like it could be fun, that's not something I'd thought of trying." As he spoke Chris was slowly kissing his way down Phil's chest, opening his shirt, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down his long legs.
Phil ran his hand through Chris's thick hair, now completely grey after the traumas of the last year. "Nevertheless, we're defaulting back to what we normally do, aren't we?"
"You mean I suck you hard, you fuck me into the mattress - or the couch, as the case may be - and then suck me off to finish? Yeah, we do do that spectacularly well. But hey, wisdom of age and all that. Getting to know what you really want, and letting the rest go."
Chris wriggled back up Phil's body so they were lying side by side on the couch and gently wrapped his hand round the back of Phil's head, fingers threaded into the silver hair. "After decades of chasing round the galaxies, I know what I want and most of it is in this house." He ran his thumb up the side of Phil's face, tracing the cheekbone and then kissing him chastely on the lips. "I know what I need and what I love. And it's all right here by my side. Happy birthday, darling."
After a long tender kiss, Chis began to work his way back down Phil's torso, making detours to nibble at nipples and tickle sensitive ribs, but always moving lower towards the silver curls at Phil's groin and the rampant cock that was now aching with anticipation. As mobile lips slid over the head of his prick, engulfing him in wet silky heat, Phil dropped his head back against the arm of the couch, the images on the wall catching his eye as he did so.
Considering the fact that he had the hottest mover and shaker in the Admiralty sucking on his cock like a favorite popsicle and up on the wall were breathtakingly explicit photos of his highly exclusive harem of Starfleet's most desirable serving officers, he had to think that he'd done rather well for himself. He still had tucked away somewhere the life to-do list written by his ambitious and impatient fifteen-year-old self, who'd been desperate for his adult life to begin and convinced that if he hadn't done it all within the next half a century he might as well be dead. He rather thought that his teenage self would have been both impressed and envious of his sixty-fifth birthday celebration.
- THE END -
Series: Star Trek Reboot
Pairing: Pike/Boyce (Kirk/McCoy and cross pairings mentioned)
Series: Fuck My Life
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Word count: around 2400
This is a birthday gift for the lovely imachar and this year it's (almost) on time! I hope you enjoy the boys.
Summary: Why has Captain Kirk been sending Admiral Boyce mysteriously encoded data packets?
Author's Note: this exists in the Fuck My Life universe, although the only thing that matters is that Pike and Boyce are a couple, as are Jim and Bones, and the two pairs have a friends-with-benefits set-up.
Phil slouched on the couch, padd by his side, listening to the sounds of his partner pottering in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity of it still caught his breath sometimes, a spike of incredulous delight that - despite all that had gone wrong in the Federation in the past year - this was his life. A satisfying job, a small but lovely house set in the woods with distant views of the bay, and the rising star of the Admiralty keeping his bed warm and, apparently, their kitchen clean.
The padd chirped and he looked down to see a new message had arrived. "Chris," he called.
"Hmm, what?" Chris stuck his head round the door.
"I've had another of those inexplicable messages from Kirk. Have you worked out what's going on yet?"
Chris lent against the door frame, casually dressed in old jeans and a faded button-down shirt with the top two buttons open, looking every inch the part of Terra's favourite hero, given that the photogenic crew of the Enterprise had now departed for deep space. "I'm pretty sure they're packets of encrypted data and at some point he'll presumably send a key that unscrambles it all, it's a game he's playing with you." Chris grinned at Phil lazily, thumbs hooked suggestively in the belt loops of his jean. "Or playing with us, I guess. He must know I'll be the one who ends up decoding it for you."
Phil smiled at the memory of some of the 'games' they'd played with young Captain Kirk. "Non-regs encrypted data? Is this anything we should be worrying about? Political intrigue or something?"
"Doesn't seem like it," replied Chris with a shrug. "I did make some broad hints in my last official briefing call with him, but he just gave me that cat-got-the-cream grin of his and said all would be revealed when the time was right. I'm guessing it's some Kirk scheme."
"Right. Should we be worrying that the captain of our flagship is spending his time hacking Starfleet comms to send out secret messages for his own amusement?"
That elicited a dry laugh from Chris. "If we were going to worry about shit like that, we never should've given him the ship to start with. The damned Kobayashi Maru made that clear. Some things about Jim Kirk just can't be changed, you know that." He glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall. "Hang on a minute, it's nearly time."
Chris disappeared back into the kitchen and returned with a small tray with a bottle and two glasses. "Shift over, I've got a particularly fine bottle of champagne here."
"Champagne?" queried Phil. His tastes normally ran to high-quality bourbon, and Chris tended to prefer vodka. "Of course, we're just hanging on for midnight. I don't see why we should wait until tomorrow to celebrate. And here we go, counting down to the hour...."
Phil glanced down at his padd, trying to hide the ambivalent expression he could feel on his face. He prided himself on his maturity and self-acceptance and he certainly didn't want Chris thinking he needed reassurance or empty platitudes about how the years hadn't changed him. Nevertheless, he didn't really feel like celebrating. He'd have been perfectly happy to let this particular day slide by unnoticed.
"Hey, another message from Jim," he said, grateful for the distraction. "Different from the rest. D'you think that's the key?"
Chris peered over his shoulder. "Looks like it, here, give me your padd." He fiddled for a minute or two. "Okay, there we go, it's pulling together, looks like a photo to me, a photo of.... oh.... oh!."
"Good lord! That's quite something."
The two men peered down at the screen of the padd.
Chris started to chuckle. "Yes, well. This is Kirk we're talking about after all."
"Indeed, a lot of very naked Kirk." Phil twisted the padd to examine the angles. "I'm impressed by his flexibility."
"The doctor's not doing too badly himself." Chris slid an arm round Phil's waist, tucking himself in close behind him so he could peer at the padd over Phil's shoulder. "Leonard's certainly keeping himself fit."
"Too true," Phil replied. "He's been whining to me that Kirk makes him do the same combat training as the rest of the senior crew, apparently for the safety of the ship."
"Hah! More likely so that Kirk can have a boyfriend in great shape. Looks like it's working." Chris nibbled thoughtfully up the side of Phil's neck. "So McCoy writes to you, does he?"
Phil obligingly titled his head to give Chris easier access, shifting closer to the long, lean body at his side. "Yeah, for some reason he's decided to make me his bitch buddy, it's one long string of grumbles about space, the ship and the crew, with an entire sub-section devoted to Jim, of course. Although Spock gets quite a bit of space too." He lent back to let his lips brush over Chris's cheek. "All CMOs need an outlet, you know, especially when they serve under brash, brilliant and utterly annoying captains."
Chris caught Phil's face with his free hand. "Need an outlet, do you? Maybe I can help with that." He pulled Phil into a slow, deep, filthy-wet kiss, controlling it with all the confidence of half a lifetime of knowing each other.
After a long moment Phil pushed him away. "Hang on, so all those strange messages from Jim. They only added up to one photo?"
"Hmm, you've got a point, let's see." Chris slid his arms around Phil's waist to fiddle on the padd. "Well spotted, there's a whole set." He projected them up onto the media wall that filled one side of their lounge and put them into slideshow mode.
"Good god! That's just...." Both men began to laugh incredulously, with Chris taking advantage of the moment to pull Phil's shirt free and slide his hand up under it, stroking across the warm, smooth skin.
"Commanding the flagship isn't enough to keep them busy so they've worked their way through the Kama Sutra in their spare time?" exclaimed Chris.
"Apparently so," replied Phil, "and decided it would be a great idea to share the results with their superior officers. I hope Kirk's encryption was damned secure, the tabloids would wet themselves to get hold of these."
"Don't worry, his coding's superb, it's a good thing he's on our side. This is classic Kirk, he just wanted an excuse to install a camera in the ceiling of his cabin and talk Leonard into a bit of voyeurism."
"Oh I wouldn't under-estimate Leonard," said Phil with a grin. "Jim may come up with the crazy ideas but once you get him warmed up, Leonard is a kinky little shit and more than capable of filling in the details. As I found out in those last weeks before the Enterprise took off."
"Oh, you were having a little one-on-one with the doctor were you, while Jim and I were working our asses off to get the ship ready for launch?" Chris gave Phil as severe a look as he could manage while being plastered up against him at the same time.
"Fuck yeah!" Phil grinned back unrepentantly. "Leonard was on one hell of a learning curve to get ready to be CMO. I found that performance rewards acted as a very good incentive."
Chris regarded him with mock horror. "Admiral Boyce! I am shocked, shocked I tell you."
"Oh stuff you. I seem to remember you suddenly getting all territorial and having a second private hand-over ceremony for the Enterprise that involved you screwing Jim very thoroughly in the captain's chair."
"Yes, well." Chris suddenly looked more than a little embarrassed. "We're not talking about that. I apologized to him for that."
"Oh, you needn't have bothered. I heard via Leonard that he loved every minute of it." Phil could see from the tight set of Chris's face that he was still bothered by his fit of jealousy with Jim, so he steered the conversation back the images still scrolling by on the media wall. "Why do some of their outrageous positions seem to be repeated but others not?"
Chris, accepting the change of subject with relief, flicked the images into light-table view. "Hmm, we've got two goes at, let's see.... three of the positions?" He started changing the order of the pictures, moving them too fast for Phil to see the pattern he was hunting.
"I get it!" exclaimed Chris. "They're letters. Oh fucking hell, they've done the Kama Sutra of the alphabet. Here, if you arrange them like this, you get H-A-P-P-Y B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y." He abandoned the padd to slide his hands down under the belt of Phil's pants. "That's pretty creative, happy birthday to you along with a visual guide of various ways we could celebrate."
"Hell Chris," protested Phil. "I couldn't get into most of those positions when I was thirty years younger. If I tried now, you'll be calling chiropractor to get me untangled again."
"I'm not exactly that athletic any longer either, and my visit with Nero didn't help much. I'm just saying we could use them as a guide."
"You're not bored with what we do, are you?" Phil immediately hated the note of uncertainty in his voice. But dammit, he was still slightly unsure about his ability to hold and keep Chris's interest, with the other man a decade younger than him and having never before shown any inclination to a committed relationship, other than with his ships.
Chris's new-found fame didn't help matters either. The gossip media remained obsessed with the officers of the Enterprise, running stories and images at every opportunity, but the Enterprise was - to the relief of the crew - a long way away from the nearest journalist. Admiral Pike was the face on Terran news promoting change in Starfleet while facing down opponents who wanted Terra to withdraw from the Federation. Christopher Pike was the Narada hero who could actually be spotted walking on the streets of San Francisco. In these uncertain times, he combined a natural authority with gorgeous looks that meant their discreet home received bags of fan mail every week.
"Dammit Phil, don't do this." Chris pushed Phil roughly back onto the cushions of the couch, covering his lover's body with his own. "I love what we do, you know that. But we know each other so well, we do tend to default to our favorite positions, and do many of the same things each time. Our personal pretty boys have taken the trouble to send us some rather inspiring material from the other side of the sector. Let's have fun with it. It's two hundred years since sixty-five has been retirement age for anyone. I will not let you play the grumpy old man. Now let's see."
He looked up at the mosaic of images up on their wall. "Well, B and R are right out - in fact I suspect photo manipulation may have been involved. And I don't think either of us can pull off P at this point."
Phil smiled up at him, as ever left breathless by his surge of bottomless affection for the man he could now call his partner. "I do remember a spectacular P or two, back in the day at the end of your command school training, when you were showing off just how strong you were."
"Hmm, I was good, wasn't I?" Chris sounded unsurprisingly smug. "What else have we got? Y is easy enough and T is an old classic. A looks like it could be fun, that's not something I'd thought of trying." As he spoke Chris was slowly kissing his way down Phil's chest, opening his shirt, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down his long legs.
Phil ran his hand through Chris's thick hair, now completely grey after the traumas of the last year. "Nevertheless, we're defaulting back to what we normally do, aren't we?"
"You mean I suck you hard, you fuck me into the mattress - or the couch, as the case may be - and then suck me off to finish? Yeah, we do do that spectacularly well. But hey, wisdom of age and all that. Getting to know what you really want, and letting the rest go."
Chris wriggled back up Phil's body so they were lying side by side on the couch and gently wrapped his hand round the back of Phil's head, fingers threaded into the silver hair. "After decades of chasing round the galaxies, I know what I want and most of it is in this house." He ran his thumb up the side of Phil's face, tracing the cheekbone and then kissing him chastely on the lips. "I know what I need and what I love. And it's all right here by my side. Happy birthday, darling."
After a long tender kiss, Chis began to work his way back down Phil's torso, making detours to nibble at nipples and tickle sensitive ribs, but always moving lower towards the silver curls at Phil's groin and the rampant cock that was now aching with anticipation. As mobile lips slid over the head of his prick, engulfing him in wet silky heat, Phil dropped his head back against the arm of the couch, the images on the wall catching his eye as he did so.
Considering the fact that he had the hottest mover and shaker in the Admiralty sucking on his cock like a favorite popsicle and up on the wall were breathtakingly explicit photos of his highly exclusive harem of Starfleet's most desirable serving officers, he had to think that he'd done rather well for himself. He still had tucked away somewhere the life to-do list written by his ambitious and impatient fifteen-year-old self, who'd been desperate for his adult life to begin and convinced that if he hadn't done it all within the next half a century he might as well be dead. He rather thought that his teenage self would have been both impressed and envious of his sixty-fifth birthday celebration.
- THE END -