Fic: Fantasies (Kirk/McCoy, Others)
Title: Fantasies
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy; References Gaila/McCoy, Pike/McCoy, Sulu/McCoy, Spock/Uhura, Spock/McCoy/Uhura
Summary: 5 people who had sexual daydreams about McCoy and the one who got to make their daydreams a reality.
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 3495
A/N: Written for this prompt at st_xi_kink
1
“You are distracted,” Gaila observes as Jim Kirk fidgets in his seat and continues looking over her shoulder towards the bar.
“What? No, I’m just enjoying your company,” Jim reassures her, flashing that smile that she has noticed charms most everyone he comes into contact with, including herself.
“Are you in need of another drink?” she asks, standing before he can reply. “I will get you another.”
She turns and makes her way through the tables to the bar. A quick scan does not locate any female cadets that are more attractive than she, but her attention focuses on one at the end of the bar nursing a glass with amber liquid. It is the man that Jim calls Bones, though she does not think that is his real name. He is the cause of Jim’s agitation, obviously, and she wonders why Jim lies instead of admitting that he has noticed his best friend.
When she reaches the bar, she pointedly stands next to Jim’s friend. He glances at her and gives a polite nod of his head before he focuses his attention on his glass. Gaila is not used to being dismissed so easily, especially by men, so she is intrigued immediately. She moves closer to him, invading what Jim calls ‘personal space’, and watches him for a reaction.
His fingers are long, she notices, and his touch is gentle as he holds the glass in his hand. Careful and patient. She can recognize the traits from her experience with other humans, but there is something else there. It is lurking beneath his multi-colored eyes when he glances at her and arches a brow at her. He looks away easily, not even lingering or undressing her mentally like most men. She can feel the fabric of his shirt against her arm and realizes that she has moved closer.
He ignores her presence, taking another sip of his alcohol and running his tongue over his bottom lip before once again staring at the glass. It is then that she notices his lips, wet with saliva and his drink. He smells interesting, and she sniffs the air subtly as she waits for her order to be filled. Leather and tobacco are scents that she recognizes, but there are others that are unfamiliar. She sways slightly closer to smell his scent more carefully, glancing over her shoulder to see Jim watching them with an odd expression on his face.
“Did ya need something, ma’am?” The man known as Bones asks in a low voice that reminds her of sex and desperate need.
Gaila closes her eyes and envisions herself spread on the bar before him. He will use his fingers expertly, carefully manipulating her until she is riding his hand. There will be no fumbling or inexperience with this man. He will touch her and use his tongue to make her beg for him. It lurks beneath his eyes, the need to be desired, the need to hear desperate pleas for satisfaction. His lips will wrap around her nipple as he sucks hard, possibly biting as he pushes his fingers deeper. He will speak in that voice, will make her wet before he even touches her with only a few words.
“Ma’am, are you okay?”
Her eyes flash open, and she looks at him. “I am alright,” she says, despite the fact that her nipples are hard and she is already damp between her legs. Instead of waiting for her drinks, she returns to the table and invites Jim to escort her to the bathroom. When he slides into her, she closes her eyes and hears a husky voice that reminds her of sex.
2
There are never many students utilizing the fitness center on Thursday mornings. Hikaru finds it to be the best time to exercise because there aren’t crowds waiting to use the equipment that he prefers. There are other benefits that he has discovered for having work-outs at this time, though he is uncertain whether or not he can consider the most notable one a benefit. In the three months since this semester began and his schedule changed to give him Thursday mornings without class, he has settled into the routine of visiting the gym before taking a shower and getting lunch. The shower is always cold.
Today is no exception. He works out on the equipment with the best view of the punching bag and spends a majority of the morning watching Cadet McCoy work up a sweat. Hikaru has never actually met McCoy, but he went to the trouble of learning his name after the third Thursday in a row that he masturbated to thoughts of the older man. He’s a doctor, so they aren’t in the same program, which is probably for the best because Hikaru isn’t sure that he can ever speak to the man after some of the fantasies he’s had during the past few months.
When McCoy removes his sweat drenched t-shirt and continues to punch, Hikaru stops the pretense of exercising so that he can watch. It isn’t often that the other man is angry enough to work up a sweat and remove his shirt, so he knows to take advantage of the opportunity whenever it presents itself. It’s a simple equation to consider, after all. McCoy without a shirt will mean an unobstructed view of his chest and arms, which will equal a fantastic orgasm that will relax Hikaru before his difficult Thursday afternoon physics class.
Hikaru can feel his cock throb with every punch that McCoy lands on the bag. While he loves fencing, he has never been particularly fond of boxing or hand-to-hand combat. It lacks grace and doesn’t really require intelligence. Despite that, there is something breathtaking about watching this every Thursday. He’s probably thinking with his dick, since the grunts and groans that McCoy makes are all too easily imagined coming from other more carnal activities.
As he listens to those noises and watches the muscles in McCoy’s arms, he spreads his legs and shifts slightly on the bench to get more pressure against his erection. McCoy will be rough, shoving Hikaru against the wall of the shower and gripping his dick hard. He’ll tug on it with a firm grip, smirking like he does when he lands a successful punch, and Hikaru will whine because it isn’t enough. He’ll feel the wall against his face as he’s turned around, presenting his ass to McCoy, offering it to him.
There will be a low grunt when McCoy forces himself into Hikaru’s ass. It’ll be tight, and he’ll tell him that it feels so good, that he owns Hikaru, that his ass belongs to McCoy now as he fucks him hard. Hikaru will reach for his own dick but have his hand slapped away. McCoy won’t let him touch without permission. He’ll force his hands above his head, holding them tight enough to bruise, and he’ll keep thrusting, hard and deep until he comes, groaning as he does when he’s near the end of his workout and adrenalin makes him hit harder.
When he realizes that he is slowly rocking against the bench, he feels heat flood his face. No one has noticed, but he has, and that’s bad enough. He reaches for his towel and holds it in front of him as he takes one last look at McCoy before rushing off to the showers.
3
The medication is making him loopy. That’s the only explanation that Chris has for the thoughts muddling up his brain. He doesn’t know for sure, since he has no intention of asking Doctor McCoy if kinky sexual fantasies are a side effect to the many medications he’s on right now. He can’t feel his legs, might not even walk again, yet all he can think about is having his doctor suck his cock. It has to be the medication.
Not that McCoy isn’t an attractive man. Chris isn’t going to cross any lines with his crew members, but he’d have to be both blind and stupid not to see the appeal. He’s neither, so, yeah, he’s aware of the hands and that southern drawl that slips some times, usually when McCoy is bitching at Kirk. There are also those broad shoulders and that damn mouth. Chris thought that Kirk had a mouth made for cock sucking when he first saw the kid, but McCoy’s lips were created to suck cock.
The very fact that he’s lying in this tiny bio bed thinking about the CMO’s lips wrapped around his cock is just more evidence to support the entire medication theory. Normally, Chris isn’t susceptible to the various perversions that his mind likes to think about involving cadets and recruits. There’s just not really any way of fighting it when he’s on a half dozen painkillers and his legs are numb. His cock hasn’t lost any feeling, that’s for sure.
Which is another reason that he needs to stop imagining McCoy dropping the hypospray on the table before pulling the blanket down and crawling onto the bed with him. He can’t think about those capable hands gripping his hips as those full lips glide across his hot skin. It’s completely depraved of him to see McCoy’s mouth around the head of his cock, licking at his pre-come before his cheeks hollow out as he sucks so hard that Chris can feel it everywhere, even the deadened shells that used to be his legs.
It’s even worse when he thinks about that wicked tongue curling around his cock, licking as those pretty lips move up and down. He can feel that thick hair against his fingers as he grips it tightly and fucks McCoy’s face, pulling on it until there’s moaning around his cock. Kirk will catch them and know that Chris has been there first, will watch as McCoy’s face is covered in come, dripping down his chin and coating his lips. Chris will make him stay, will make him watch as McCoy jerks himself off, taking orders from him until his hand is covered in semen. Then, he’ll make Kirk lick that hand clean.
“Captain, how do you feel?” McCoy’s brisk matter-of-fact question pulls Chris out of his fantasy. “You’re looking flushed. Do you feel feverish?”
“Everything’s fine, Doctor,” Chris lies smoothly, watching those perfect cock sucker lips curve into a frown and letting his mind drift into another fantasy. After all, it’s the medication’s fault, so he can’t help it.
4 and 5
There are some definite drawbacks to being in love with a Vulcan. Nyota can usually overlook them, and does, because Spock satisfies her ninety-nine percent of the time. It’s only during certain times, when she’s irrationally horny and craving something more, that the one percent occupies her thoughts. During those times, her mind wanders outside of her relationship, with Spock’s consent.
At first, it made it awkward to fantasize, knowing that she had permission from her boyfriend to imagine having sex with other people. Over time, she adjusted to it. Spock tells her that it’s perfectly logical to indulge in daydreams of a sexual nature, that it will probably make their relationship healthier, and she supposes he might be right. He claims that he doesn’t fantasize, yet he is always eager to hear what she thinks about.
When she arrives at his quarters after Delta shift, he is waiting with a glass of wine. She sips it as he slowly removes her clothes then lies on her stomach, getting comfortable on his bed. He strips and straddles her backside, beginning to massage her shoulders. “You appeared to be distracted earlier,” he informs her, which is the standard invitation for her to start talking. They’ve worked out their own little system since this layer of their relationship began, and it’s been successful for them.
“Doctor McCoy was on the bridge earlier,” she says simply. Spock’s fingers halt their movement, and she listens to his sharp intake of breath at her words. There are some times that she thinks Spock uses her fantasies for himself, because he doesn’t seem to have any of his own, and she has to admit that it’s arousing to think of him wanting to be fucked by McCoy, just like her.
“Yes, he had to speak with the captain,” he finally says as he continues massaging her. “Tell me about your thoughts, Nyota.”
“He’s a big man, isn’t he?” She licks her lips and closes her eyes, feeling Spock even as her mind brings forth images of the good doctor. “If I wasn’t wearing panties, he could shove me against the wall and fuck me right there, with the entire command team watching.”
“Doctor McCoy is not abnormally large for a human. He is an ideal weight for his height,” Spock tells her. “He would be able to hold your weight relatively easily if you were engaging in sexual intercourse against the wall. Is that what you thought of, Nyota?”
“Yes,” she murmurs. “Amongst other things. I bet he’d look good bound to the bed, don’t you? His arms strapped above his head, his legs spread, unable to move. Can’t you hear him cursing about it? Using that filthy language that I overhear him using when he’s drinking with the captain.”
Spock clears his throats and digs his fingers more firmly into her skin. “It is unlikely that he would be agreeable to such behavior. I would be unsurprised that his language would be blunt and foul.”
“I’d suck his cock while he was demanding to be let go. It’d feel good in my mouth, hot and pulsing every time I moved my tongue against it,” she says, able to imagine it too easily. “When he started to beg me, I’d straddle him and slide down onto it, feeling it stretch me as I ride him. I’d scratch his chest and bite his lips as I move, using him for my pleasure. And he’d let me because he’d get off on it. Get off being nothing more than a sex toy for my use, for anyone to use who happened upon him while he was tied up and unable to escape.”
“I would like to hear more, Nyota,” Spock whispers as he moves his hands down her back.
“After I come, I’ll move. He can’t come until I say.” She should be ashamed by how breathless she sounds, but she’s caught up in the fantasy of teasing and playing with McCoy. There is no shame here with Spock, not even when she reaches between her legs and begins to manipulate herself. “I’ll straddle that handsome face and put his tongue to better use, riding his face as hard as I’ve just ridden his cock. I’ll rub myself all over him, cover his face in my come, and I’ll tease his cock with my fingers and maybe my tongue. I’ll scratch his thighs and bite him lightly before I push my fingers into his ass. He’ll enjoy that even as he denies it.”
“You will be unable to hear his protests,” Spock observes in that quiet tone that lets her know he’s ‘seeing’ her words. He’s imagining her with McCoy, and it’s turning him on. Probably wishes it was him using McCoy, making him beg for cock, and she’s aroused at the thought, even if she and Spock will never act on it. “Will you allow him to find sexual release, Nyota?”
“Not yet. I’ll come on his face, riding his tongue until I’m sated, then I’ll get one of my favorite toys. I’ll make him suck it while I tell him exactly how I plan to use it, shoving it into his throat and fucking his face with it before I shove it into his ass,” she says, shuddering slightly as Spock’s fingers grip her skin tighter. She can feel him inside her mind, can see him watching her fuck McCoy and stroking himself, can see him using McCoy’s mouth while she thrusts the toy harder and deeper and finally sucks on his cock, letting him come as Spock splashes semen all over his face. She shudders again, rubbing herself harder.
When she finishes trembling, she becomes aware of the sticky wet on her back. Spock licks her skin clean before kisses her shoulder and strokes her hair. “We will rest now, and you can tell me more about Doctor McCoy at another time.”
The One
The recent influenza outbreak has kept Bones working for days. He’s been sleeping in his office, supposedly, but Jim doubts that he’s gotten much rest at all. It isn’t a deadly disease, but it can spread fast, so it’s important to quarantine the infected and get them healed as quickly as possible. The ship can’t run itself, after all, should a majority of the crew come down with the virus. However, Bones is working himself to death, and that just isn’t acceptable.
On the third day of Flu Hell, as Jim’s taken to calling it, he goes to medical and plants himself in Bones’ chair. It doesn’t take long for word to reach Bones that he’s there, and he doesn’t even reach a county of thirty before the door slides open. “Get the hell out of my chair, Captain,” Bones demands with a scowl.
“You look horrible, Bones,” Jim points out. “When’s the last time you took a shower? Slept for more than an hour at a time? Changed your clothes?”
“What is this, twenty questions? I’m too old for this shit.” Bones arches a brow. “What part of get that scrawny ass out of my chair didn’t you understand?”
“You didn’t talk about my ass before. I’d remember.” Jim shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere until you agree to come with me.” He looks at Bones seriously as he adds, “Don’t make me play the captain card.”
“Damn it, Jim. We’ve got fifteen crew members throwing up and experiencing everything from cold chills to high-grade fever. I don’t have time for whatever you’ve got planned.”
“Make the time. The last thing I need right now is for my CMO to get sick because he isn’t taking care of himself.” Jim stands up and sets his mouth in a stubborn frown. “I’ll force you if I have to, but I’d rather you be willing.”
Bones stares at him before cursing under his breath. “Fucking asshole. Fine. I’ll come along.”
“Good.” Jim leads him out of medical and takes the turbolift to his deck. “When is the last time you slept, Bones?”
“Earlier. I’m sleeping on the cot in my office right now. No use leaving because I keep getting called back down,” Bones mutters as he rubs his hand over his face.
“That’s not acceptable,” Jim tells him quietly but firmly. There are times when he understands that Bones will have to work non-stop nearly, but this is the flu, which is like a cold with puking as an added bonus. When they reach his quarters, he takes Bones’ clothes off then guides him into the shower.
“I can wash myself,” Bones protests when Jim strips down to join him.
“Stop bitching and say ‘thank you for caring about my unappreciative ass, Jim’.” He grins before he focuses on his task. His intentions to keep things non-sexual dissipate when Bones’ cock starts to harden. “Aww. It remembers me. How are you, Bones’ cock?”
“Stop talking to my penis. That’s weird even for you,” Bones grumbles. “And of course it remembers you. It’s only been three days since it was buried inside your tight ass.”
“Three very long days with an empty bed and no snuggles,” Jim murmurs. He strokes Bones’ cock, just to say hello so it doesn’t feel unwelcome.
“Am I here to rest or be molested?” Bones arches a brow when Jim looks at him and tugs harder.
“Orgasms are relaxing. It’s a win-win, see?” Jim drops to his knees and begins to suck, listening to Bones make those sexy noises of his. When Bones comes, he swallows and keeps sucking until he’s got every drop. He pulls back and smiles. “Feel better, don’t you?”
“Hmph.” Bones kisses him when he stands up, sucking on his tongue and licking the inside of his mouth. When Bones’ wraps his fingers around Jim’s cock, it doesn’t take long before he comes. Bones smirks when he breaks the kiss. “Feel better?”
“Lots. Now, let’s get you into bed. When you wake up, we’ll have breakfast. I won’t let you go back to work until you sleep at least six hours and eat a full meal, though,” he warns.
“I can probably convince you,” Bones muses, looking absolutely wicked as he crawls into bed and beckons Jim closer with his finger. “You said something about snuggles, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did.” Jim lies down beside him and cuddles closer, finally sleeping for the first time in three days with Bones wrapped around him, where he belongs.
End
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy; References Gaila/McCoy, Pike/McCoy, Sulu/McCoy, Spock/Uhura, Spock/McCoy/Uhura
Summary: 5 people who had sexual daydreams about McCoy and the one who got to make their daydreams a reality.
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 3495
A/N: Written for this prompt at st_xi_kink
1
“You are distracted,” Gaila observes as Jim Kirk fidgets in his seat and continues looking over her shoulder towards the bar.
“What? No, I’m just enjoying your company,” Jim reassures her, flashing that smile that she has noticed charms most everyone he comes into contact with, including herself.
“Are you in need of another drink?” she asks, standing before he can reply. “I will get you another.”
She turns and makes her way through the tables to the bar. A quick scan does not locate any female cadets that are more attractive than she, but her attention focuses on one at the end of the bar nursing a glass with amber liquid. It is the man that Jim calls Bones, though she does not think that is his real name. He is the cause of Jim’s agitation, obviously, and she wonders why Jim lies instead of admitting that he has noticed his best friend.
When she reaches the bar, she pointedly stands next to Jim’s friend. He glances at her and gives a polite nod of his head before he focuses his attention on his glass. Gaila is not used to being dismissed so easily, especially by men, so she is intrigued immediately. She moves closer to him, invading what Jim calls ‘personal space’, and watches him for a reaction.
His fingers are long, she notices, and his touch is gentle as he holds the glass in his hand. Careful and patient. She can recognize the traits from her experience with other humans, but there is something else there. It is lurking beneath his multi-colored eyes when he glances at her and arches a brow at her. He looks away easily, not even lingering or undressing her mentally like most men. She can feel the fabric of his shirt against her arm and realizes that she has moved closer.
He ignores her presence, taking another sip of his alcohol and running his tongue over his bottom lip before once again staring at the glass. It is then that she notices his lips, wet with saliva and his drink. He smells interesting, and she sniffs the air subtly as she waits for her order to be filled. Leather and tobacco are scents that she recognizes, but there are others that are unfamiliar. She sways slightly closer to smell his scent more carefully, glancing over her shoulder to see Jim watching them with an odd expression on his face.
“Did ya need something, ma’am?” The man known as Bones asks in a low voice that reminds her of sex and desperate need.
Gaila closes her eyes and envisions herself spread on the bar before him. He will use his fingers expertly, carefully manipulating her until she is riding his hand. There will be no fumbling or inexperience with this man. He will touch her and use his tongue to make her beg for him. It lurks beneath his eyes, the need to be desired, the need to hear desperate pleas for satisfaction. His lips will wrap around her nipple as he sucks hard, possibly biting as he pushes his fingers deeper. He will speak in that voice, will make her wet before he even touches her with only a few words.
“Ma’am, are you okay?”
Her eyes flash open, and she looks at him. “I am alright,” she says, despite the fact that her nipples are hard and she is already damp between her legs. Instead of waiting for her drinks, she returns to the table and invites Jim to escort her to the bathroom. When he slides into her, she closes her eyes and hears a husky voice that reminds her of sex.
2
There are never many students utilizing the fitness center on Thursday mornings. Hikaru finds it to be the best time to exercise because there aren’t crowds waiting to use the equipment that he prefers. There are other benefits that he has discovered for having work-outs at this time, though he is uncertain whether or not he can consider the most notable one a benefit. In the three months since this semester began and his schedule changed to give him Thursday mornings without class, he has settled into the routine of visiting the gym before taking a shower and getting lunch. The shower is always cold.
Today is no exception. He works out on the equipment with the best view of the punching bag and spends a majority of the morning watching Cadet McCoy work up a sweat. Hikaru has never actually met McCoy, but he went to the trouble of learning his name after the third Thursday in a row that he masturbated to thoughts of the older man. He’s a doctor, so they aren’t in the same program, which is probably for the best because Hikaru isn’t sure that he can ever speak to the man after some of the fantasies he’s had during the past few months.
When McCoy removes his sweat drenched t-shirt and continues to punch, Hikaru stops the pretense of exercising so that he can watch. It isn’t often that the other man is angry enough to work up a sweat and remove his shirt, so he knows to take advantage of the opportunity whenever it presents itself. It’s a simple equation to consider, after all. McCoy without a shirt will mean an unobstructed view of his chest and arms, which will equal a fantastic orgasm that will relax Hikaru before his difficult Thursday afternoon physics class.
Hikaru can feel his cock throb with every punch that McCoy lands on the bag. While he loves fencing, he has never been particularly fond of boxing or hand-to-hand combat. It lacks grace and doesn’t really require intelligence. Despite that, there is something breathtaking about watching this every Thursday. He’s probably thinking with his dick, since the grunts and groans that McCoy makes are all too easily imagined coming from other more carnal activities.
As he listens to those noises and watches the muscles in McCoy’s arms, he spreads his legs and shifts slightly on the bench to get more pressure against his erection. McCoy will be rough, shoving Hikaru against the wall of the shower and gripping his dick hard. He’ll tug on it with a firm grip, smirking like he does when he lands a successful punch, and Hikaru will whine because it isn’t enough. He’ll feel the wall against his face as he’s turned around, presenting his ass to McCoy, offering it to him.
There will be a low grunt when McCoy forces himself into Hikaru’s ass. It’ll be tight, and he’ll tell him that it feels so good, that he owns Hikaru, that his ass belongs to McCoy now as he fucks him hard. Hikaru will reach for his own dick but have his hand slapped away. McCoy won’t let him touch without permission. He’ll force his hands above his head, holding them tight enough to bruise, and he’ll keep thrusting, hard and deep until he comes, groaning as he does when he’s near the end of his workout and adrenalin makes him hit harder.
When he realizes that he is slowly rocking against the bench, he feels heat flood his face. No one has noticed, but he has, and that’s bad enough. He reaches for his towel and holds it in front of him as he takes one last look at McCoy before rushing off to the showers.
3
The medication is making him loopy. That’s the only explanation that Chris has for the thoughts muddling up his brain. He doesn’t know for sure, since he has no intention of asking Doctor McCoy if kinky sexual fantasies are a side effect to the many medications he’s on right now. He can’t feel his legs, might not even walk again, yet all he can think about is having his doctor suck his cock. It has to be the medication.
Not that McCoy isn’t an attractive man. Chris isn’t going to cross any lines with his crew members, but he’d have to be both blind and stupid not to see the appeal. He’s neither, so, yeah, he’s aware of the hands and that southern drawl that slips some times, usually when McCoy is bitching at Kirk. There are also those broad shoulders and that damn mouth. Chris thought that Kirk had a mouth made for cock sucking when he first saw the kid, but McCoy’s lips were created to suck cock.
The very fact that he’s lying in this tiny bio bed thinking about the CMO’s lips wrapped around his cock is just more evidence to support the entire medication theory. Normally, Chris isn’t susceptible to the various perversions that his mind likes to think about involving cadets and recruits. There’s just not really any way of fighting it when he’s on a half dozen painkillers and his legs are numb. His cock hasn’t lost any feeling, that’s for sure.
Which is another reason that he needs to stop imagining McCoy dropping the hypospray on the table before pulling the blanket down and crawling onto the bed with him. He can’t think about those capable hands gripping his hips as those full lips glide across his hot skin. It’s completely depraved of him to see McCoy’s mouth around the head of his cock, licking at his pre-come before his cheeks hollow out as he sucks so hard that Chris can feel it everywhere, even the deadened shells that used to be his legs.
It’s even worse when he thinks about that wicked tongue curling around his cock, licking as those pretty lips move up and down. He can feel that thick hair against his fingers as he grips it tightly and fucks McCoy’s face, pulling on it until there’s moaning around his cock. Kirk will catch them and know that Chris has been there first, will watch as McCoy’s face is covered in come, dripping down his chin and coating his lips. Chris will make him stay, will make him watch as McCoy jerks himself off, taking orders from him until his hand is covered in semen. Then, he’ll make Kirk lick that hand clean.
“Captain, how do you feel?” McCoy’s brisk matter-of-fact question pulls Chris out of his fantasy. “You’re looking flushed. Do you feel feverish?”
“Everything’s fine, Doctor,” Chris lies smoothly, watching those perfect cock sucker lips curve into a frown and letting his mind drift into another fantasy. After all, it’s the medication’s fault, so he can’t help it.
4 and 5
There are some definite drawbacks to being in love with a Vulcan. Nyota can usually overlook them, and does, because Spock satisfies her ninety-nine percent of the time. It’s only during certain times, when she’s irrationally horny and craving something more, that the one percent occupies her thoughts. During those times, her mind wanders outside of her relationship, with Spock’s consent.
At first, it made it awkward to fantasize, knowing that she had permission from her boyfriend to imagine having sex with other people. Over time, she adjusted to it. Spock tells her that it’s perfectly logical to indulge in daydreams of a sexual nature, that it will probably make their relationship healthier, and she supposes he might be right. He claims that he doesn’t fantasize, yet he is always eager to hear what she thinks about.
When she arrives at his quarters after Delta shift, he is waiting with a glass of wine. She sips it as he slowly removes her clothes then lies on her stomach, getting comfortable on his bed. He strips and straddles her backside, beginning to massage her shoulders. “You appeared to be distracted earlier,” he informs her, which is the standard invitation for her to start talking. They’ve worked out their own little system since this layer of their relationship began, and it’s been successful for them.
“Doctor McCoy was on the bridge earlier,” she says simply. Spock’s fingers halt their movement, and she listens to his sharp intake of breath at her words. There are some times that she thinks Spock uses her fantasies for himself, because he doesn’t seem to have any of his own, and she has to admit that it’s arousing to think of him wanting to be fucked by McCoy, just like her.
“Yes, he had to speak with the captain,” he finally says as he continues massaging her. “Tell me about your thoughts, Nyota.”
“He’s a big man, isn’t he?” She licks her lips and closes her eyes, feeling Spock even as her mind brings forth images of the good doctor. “If I wasn’t wearing panties, he could shove me against the wall and fuck me right there, with the entire command team watching.”
“Doctor McCoy is not abnormally large for a human. He is an ideal weight for his height,” Spock tells her. “He would be able to hold your weight relatively easily if you were engaging in sexual intercourse against the wall. Is that what you thought of, Nyota?”
“Yes,” she murmurs. “Amongst other things. I bet he’d look good bound to the bed, don’t you? His arms strapped above his head, his legs spread, unable to move. Can’t you hear him cursing about it? Using that filthy language that I overhear him using when he’s drinking with the captain.”
Spock clears his throats and digs his fingers more firmly into her skin. “It is unlikely that he would be agreeable to such behavior. I would be unsurprised that his language would be blunt and foul.”
“I’d suck his cock while he was demanding to be let go. It’d feel good in my mouth, hot and pulsing every time I moved my tongue against it,” she says, able to imagine it too easily. “When he started to beg me, I’d straddle him and slide down onto it, feeling it stretch me as I ride him. I’d scratch his chest and bite his lips as I move, using him for my pleasure. And he’d let me because he’d get off on it. Get off being nothing more than a sex toy for my use, for anyone to use who happened upon him while he was tied up and unable to escape.”
“I would like to hear more, Nyota,” Spock whispers as he moves his hands down her back.
“After I come, I’ll move. He can’t come until I say.” She should be ashamed by how breathless she sounds, but she’s caught up in the fantasy of teasing and playing with McCoy. There is no shame here with Spock, not even when she reaches between her legs and begins to manipulate herself. “I’ll straddle that handsome face and put his tongue to better use, riding his face as hard as I’ve just ridden his cock. I’ll rub myself all over him, cover his face in my come, and I’ll tease his cock with my fingers and maybe my tongue. I’ll scratch his thighs and bite him lightly before I push my fingers into his ass. He’ll enjoy that even as he denies it.”
“You will be unable to hear his protests,” Spock observes in that quiet tone that lets her know he’s ‘seeing’ her words. He’s imagining her with McCoy, and it’s turning him on. Probably wishes it was him using McCoy, making him beg for cock, and she’s aroused at the thought, even if she and Spock will never act on it. “Will you allow him to find sexual release, Nyota?”
“Not yet. I’ll come on his face, riding his tongue until I’m sated, then I’ll get one of my favorite toys. I’ll make him suck it while I tell him exactly how I plan to use it, shoving it into his throat and fucking his face with it before I shove it into his ass,” she says, shuddering slightly as Spock’s fingers grip her skin tighter. She can feel him inside her mind, can see him watching her fuck McCoy and stroking himself, can see him using McCoy’s mouth while she thrusts the toy harder and deeper and finally sucks on his cock, letting him come as Spock splashes semen all over his face. She shudders again, rubbing herself harder.
When she finishes trembling, she becomes aware of the sticky wet on her back. Spock licks her skin clean before kisses her shoulder and strokes her hair. “We will rest now, and you can tell me more about Doctor McCoy at another time.”
The One
The recent influenza outbreak has kept Bones working for days. He’s been sleeping in his office, supposedly, but Jim doubts that he’s gotten much rest at all. It isn’t a deadly disease, but it can spread fast, so it’s important to quarantine the infected and get them healed as quickly as possible. The ship can’t run itself, after all, should a majority of the crew come down with the virus. However, Bones is working himself to death, and that just isn’t acceptable.
On the third day of Flu Hell, as Jim’s taken to calling it, he goes to medical and plants himself in Bones’ chair. It doesn’t take long for word to reach Bones that he’s there, and he doesn’t even reach a county of thirty before the door slides open. “Get the hell out of my chair, Captain,” Bones demands with a scowl.
“You look horrible, Bones,” Jim points out. “When’s the last time you took a shower? Slept for more than an hour at a time? Changed your clothes?”
“What is this, twenty questions? I’m too old for this shit.” Bones arches a brow. “What part of get that scrawny ass out of my chair didn’t you understand?”
“You didn’t talk about my ass before. I’d remember.” Jim shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere until you agree to come with me.” He looks at Bones seriously as he adds, “Don’t make me play the captain card.”
“Damn it, Jim. We’ve got fifteen crew members throwing up and experiencing everything from cold chills to high-grade fever. I don’t have time for whatever you’ve got planned.”
“Make the time. The last thing I need right now is for my CMO to get sick because he isn’t taking care of himself.” Jim stands up and sets his mouth in a stubborn frown. “I’ll force you if I have to, but I’d rather you be willing.”
Bones stares at him before cursing under his breath. “Fucking asshole. Fine. I’ll come along.”
“Good.” Jim leads him out of medical and takes the turbolift to his deck. “When is the last time you slept, Bones?”
“Earlier. I’m sleeping on the cot in my office right now. No use leaving because I keep getting called back down,” Bones mutters as he rubs his hand over his face.
“That’s not acceptable,” Jim tells him quietly but firmly. There are times when he understands that Bones will have to work non-stop nearly, but this is the flu, which is like a cold with puking as an added bonus. When they reach his quarters, he takes Bones’ clothes off then guides him into the shower.
“I can wash myself,” Bones protests when Jim strips down to join him.
“Stop bitching and say ‘thank you for caring about my unappreciative ass, Jim’.” He grins before he focuses on his task. His intentions to keep things non-sexual dissipate when Bones’ cock starts to harden. “Aww. It remembers me. How are you, Bones’ cock?”
“Stop talking to my penis. That’s weird even for you,” Bones grumbles. “And of course it remembers you. It’s only been three days since it was buried inside your tight ass.”
“Three very long days with an empty bed and no snuggles,” Jim murmurs. He strokes Bones’ cock, just to say hello so it doesn’t feel unwelcome.
“Am I here to rest or be molested?” Bones arches a brow when Jim looks at him and tugs harder.
“Orgasms are relaxing. It’s a win-win, see?” Jim drops to his knees and begins to suck, listening to Bones make those sexy noises of his. When Bones comes, he swallows and keeps sucking until he’s got every drop. He pulls back and smiles. “Feel better, don’t you?”
“Hmph.” Bones kisses him when he stands up, sucking on his tongue and licking the inside of his mouth. When Bones’ wraps his fingers around Jim’s cock, it doesn’t take long before he comes. Bones smirks when he breaks the kiss. “Feel better?”
“Lots. Now, let’s get you into bed. When you wake up, we’ll have breakfast. I won’t let you go back to work until you sleep at least six hours and eat a full meal, though,” he warns.
“I can probably convince you,” Bones muses, looking absolutely wicked as he crawls into bed and beckons Jim closer with his finger. “You said something about snuggles, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did.” Jim lies down beside him and cuddles closer, finally sleeping for the first time in three days with Bones wrapped around him, where he belongs.
End