Reboot Fic: Shadowplay 4/9 (Draws XI) [Pike/Dael/Kirk/McCoy]
For warnings, see Part 1
And then it's suddenly a day before Dael's departure and one minute until the Rainbow Ball opens. Pike stands at the sideline next to Ole, watching Arissa whirling around with last minute orders before the doors open and a long row of people wind their way into the Grande Opera.
"Where's Dael?" Pike asks Arissa when he manages to catch her for a moment, and she shrugs. "Wanted to change clothes. Should be here any second."
They idly stand around for a few minutes at the passage between the entry hall and the ballroom, watching the influx of guests. "Looks like it's going to be a great evening," Pike says. He feels almost underdressed in his leather outfit, the classic chaps and the open vest combined with boots and leather jocks, but that's what he feels most comfortable in. Besides, he doesn't have to prove anything tonight.
"Hmm, yes," Ole supplies. Pike's business partner had resisted the ball almost until the last moment, but once he'd stepped through the door, the exciting atmosphere had caught up with him. Now Ole seems every bit inclined to enjoy the evening, and as one especially interesting piece of ass walks in, Ole graciously lifts one hand behind his head, showing off his perfect bodybuilder muscles beneath his khaki net shirt. Pike smirks as he watches the men exchange gazes. This would be quite a field day for Ole, who likes hunting fresh meat.
"Maybe your idea wasn't that bad," Ole relents as his eyes follow the next group of hot young men.
"Thank you." While Pike isn't on the hunt, he definitely enjoys the variety he sees tonight.
"Joe!" he greets the owner of the Blue Sun. The bear-sized man winks at him and comes over, a tiny Orion woman at his side.
"Meet one of my wives, Ranai," Mercury says. "You might know her, she's working on UP." He twinkles.
"Of course I know her. Lieutenant Ranai, I didn't know that you'd spend your shoreleave here," Pike says as he shakes the hand of one of Cho's engineers.
"I wanted to fly to Saturn, sir, but Joe insisted on this party. And it looks as if it's been a good idea." Ranai smiles deeply. "Come on, Joe, the admiral wants to enjoy the evening without feeling like he's under scrutiny from colleagues - and I want that too." With typical Orion directness, she says aloud what had crossed Pike's mind, and he nods. She passes him with Mercury in tow, and it looks rather funny how the broad-shouldered man follows her lead.
"Ole, did you know -?" he starts.
"Whoa," Ole says, interrupting his thought, and Pike turns his head. A gasp escapes his own lips as he sees Dael coming down the stairways from the room they've used for organizing; she's all in bright yellow, of all colors, a super-tight wet-look top with interesting cuts and laces barely covering her chest, a fitted skirt so short that it barely deserves the name, and high-heeled platform boots so well-chosen that when she stands in front of him, she's a little taller than him. It's strange to look up in her face, but also fucking hot. He slips his hands under her skirt and pulls her into a kiss. Even her tattoos seem to shimmer in new, exciting colors, sparkling in the lights of hall.
"Do you like it?" she asks a little breathlessly. Skimming her ass with his hands and glad that she's got some tiny underwear beneath it, he shakes his head. "Too hot," he whispers in her ear but smirks as he withdraws. "What happened to keeping out of the spotlight?"
"Thought I'd skip that for tonight," she says with a wink, pressing her groin against his. Their heights are just perfect for fucking, and he automatically pulls her close, nudging his growing erection between her legs. The rhythm of the music catches them, and they move on the spot, kissing and rubbing against each other until she breaks apart. "I really need to help Arissa some more."
"Damn," he groans but lets her go, one hand still lingering on her ass. "When are you going to be free?"
"In an hour, I hope. Just some last-minute things." She laughs and walks away, the tiny skirt swinging with every step. He hadn't even know she could walk in shoes like that, and he wouldn't have guessed either that it would be such a hot visual turn-on for him.
Hello fetish he never knew he had.
Ole gives him an appreciating eyebrow, then waves and points towards the dance floor, gone a second later.
Pike walks through the ball room and along the bars, greeting and being greeted by various people. "Hey, Chris," someone calls him and he turns to find Farnham and Eric. They welcome him with hugs and kisses which he readily answers. He isn't completely over the fact yet that his old friend had played a role in Dael's recruitment for Intelligence, but his overall mood is too good right now to hold the grudge. This night is for hot action, no holds barred, and he wouldn't mind a repetition of their club evening or variations of the theme.
"How do you like it?" Pike asks, his hands on their shoulders.
"Fabulous. You should organize something like that more often."
"It was Arissa's idea, not mine," Pike says, unwilling to claim this unearned praise. "The owner of the Silver Barracuda. The woman over there with the long red curls, next to Dael." He nods towards their position.
"Oh," Eric says, his eyes widening. "I think I've met her before. And whoa, that's De?" The young man squints. "Fabulous. You were right, Chris. She really is a woman. But I still like the guy she can be."
Dael waves over to them, signaling that the two women would be occupied a little longer, so Pike allows his friends to drag him away for a non-alcoholic drink, relaxed and happy between them. Sometimes, when Dael passes them, she stops for a moment and sips from his drink and flirts both with him and Eric, for good measure. Pike is unable to keep his hands from slipping under her skirt, almost annoyed that he'd never even tried to get her into an outfit like this, considering the effect on his dick.
"Feeling good, aren't you?" Farnham whispers in his ear, one hand snug against Pike's bulge.
"Absolutely," Pike says, taking the surprising attack of Eric's mouth on his nipples with equanimity - at least for a second, before the touches are just too fucking arousing and he moans into them. Soon the three of them are practically making out at the bar; not exactly something he would've favored in the past, but he's just as unable to keep his own hands off his friends' bodies. At least it's rather dark now, and the loud music swallows any sounds. He's ready to accept that these two are more to him than just friends and occasional lovers, gives in to the feeling of love that surrounds him as they take him into their middle.
"Finally," someone says next to him, startling them all a little and ending the scene. Pike opens his eyes to find Arissa and Dael.
"Finally we've got time for our own fun," Arissa says. "And I see, we've got to do some catching-up, right, sweetie?" she adds with a smile at Eric, who blushes under her gaze. Pike files the young man's amusing reaction away for future consideration, before something else catches his interest. The way Arissa is draped over Dael, the way her arms are laced around Dael's hips…
"Something I should know here?" he says. "Thought you keep away from you personnel." Dael encounters his questioning gaze openly, looking neither nervous nor contrite.
"Right, I don't touch my personnel," Arissa says and leans her chin on Dael's shoulder. "But she isn't my barkeep anymore, as you well know." She looks at him expectantly, a silent come on, say something in her eyes.
He needs a second to adjust his brain; he hadn't seen this coming at all but watching them together now…is perfectly fine by him. He's not sure why, when he had all kinds of misgivings about Caitleen, but Arissa is grown-up and experienced, and he likes to think she knows her own emotions and plays fair. At last he answers their questioning gazes with a smile. "Do I lose gay points when I say that you look hot together?"
"Totally," Arissa smirks back. "Getting predictable and straight in your old days."
"I like to think I get better and cooler all the time." He turns his head when he feels a hand on his ass, or more precisely on the strip of naked air between the jocks and his chaps. "May I have this dance?" Farnham asks from the seat behind him, eyes on Dael.
"Do I lose lesbian points when I say that you look hot together?" Arissa says, which makes Dael slap her hand a little. "You may," Dael replies to Farnham and before Pike can complain about getting bartered away like this, they're already dancing. As the dance floor is full, it's a very cozy dance, more like a slow fuck actually, and just as arousing.
"Did Arissa send you to get me away from Dael?" Pike asks amused.
Farnham smirks. "Just temporarily. The masterplan is that we all get each other in the end."
Pike looks around for Eric, and finds him in a rather intimate head-to-head with some long-haired guy.
"He's currently occupied but he'll join us later." Suddenly, Farnham stops. "Hey, where's your Academy ring gone…?" He pulls Pike's right hand between them, eyeing the new jewelry in detail before looking over to Dael. "Rings? It's really damn serious to you."
"It always was," Pike says, pushing them into moving again. "I bought two more rings," he adds says over the sound of the music. "They'll wait for Jim and the doc when they come back."
"It's a goddamn love story." Farnham shakes his head and grins, then leans forward into a kiss. Pike answers it, more than a little aroused from the evening so far.
The whole floor seems to inhale deeply when the next song starts, the uncontested hymn of all sexual minorities since the middle of the twentieth century, remixed and reworked more than any other song in thousand of languages by now, but always starting with the same, magic lines.
I am what I am
I am my own, special creation
The movements are slow at first, everyone getting a feel for the song, the sharp, political statement behind the simple words.
I am what I am
I don't want praise I don't want pity
Most people sing along now, moving in the rhythm of the song, something magical and timeless forming between them all. Dael meets his gaze, Arissa moving behind her, both hands on Dael's hips. They are singing, their voices drowned in the crowd but their lips moving, eyes half-closed.
It's one life and there's no return and no deposit
One life, so it's time to open up your closet
Damn true, Pike thinks and leans back against Farnham, eyes still on Dael, the unexpected way she sings her heart out.
The crowd explodes, one large mass of heated bodies that exhales and inhales with every word like one large organism, exuding boundless love and belonging like nothing Pike has ever experienced before, and he's drunk on the feeling, everyone else's and his own, Dael suddenly in front of him and Farnham behind him, feeling fucking perfect and complete.
"I rented Loge 13," Arissa says breathlessly. "Let's move."
*
Dael is all spread out, slick from the first orgasm that had been Arissa's doing, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly open, her smile inviting and daring. Pike crawls over her for a kiss, devouring her for a moment before drawing back, angling his rock-hard erection into position. He's teasing her at first, just nudging his head along her clit and the pushed-aside thong, gliding along the edge without entering until she hooks her legs around his butt and draws him towards her. With a sigh he sinks in, as slowly as he manages to, and she whimpers, a gorgeous sound. But before he can do more about it, hands on his hips still his movement. A slick finger glides down between his ass cheeks as Farnham bends over. "Want you, Chris. Want to fuck you into her."
Pike doesn't even think as he spreads his legs a little farther. "Yes," he breathes, and the finger breaches him instantly. There's barely any resistance, he feels wide and ready and goddamn he wants the real thing right fucking now. Underneath him, Dael wiggles her hips, using her chance at teasing him when he can't quite move.
"Come on," he says back over his shoulder when Farnham seems inclined to go through a lengthy preparation as if he were some virgin. "Fuck me."
He feels Farnham's weight shifting, the grip leaving one side and returning on the other, a dick getting wiped up and down his crack, tickling his perineum before finding the right spot.
Pike sinks forward with a groan as Farnham enters him forcefully, just right, just what he needs, and he braces his arms to keep Dael from getting crushed by the added weight. She looks fine though, eyes closed and an excited smile on her half-opened lips. Her breathing turns quick and sharp as Farnham starts moving, rhythmically pulling him slightly out of her before pushing back in. They moan in unison, higher and darker voices, and it takes Pike a moment before he realizes that they're not the only one making noises here. Next to them, Eric kneels over Arissa and rides her large dildo with long, deep, movements. His dick in front of a heavy cockring is almost purple and leaking with every bounce, a wet spot on Arissa's naked belly. This really looks as if Eric has met her before, and he'd definitely ask about it later.
"Oh, fuck," he gasps as the arousing images get pushed out of his focus by an especially deep thrust. So damn good, he almost can't believe they've never done that before.
"You're so beautiful," Farnham rasps and leans over, pressing Pike into Dael. "Chris, god, Chris… you're so hot."
Pike is a little out of it by now, wiped away by the fucking perfect feel of Farnham behind and Dael under him, cheek to cheek riding this high together. He's so close and yet so far, captured on a plateau of incredible arousal, all of his body buzzing and vibrating, incredibly alive. Lips on his cheeks and hands on his hips, a muscular body pressing into his, leading the way into what feels like an absolute mind wiper of an orgasm. As the dam breaks, he's helplessly rutting into Dael, sobbing in her embrace as the waves crush him, taking his breath away until he almost blacks out.
"Chris, fuck…" From behind, Farnham strokes his back and down his upper arms as Pike slowly comes back to himself. "Come on, lick her clean, Chris. Let me see how you good are with your tongue."
They both scoot backwards, Pike kind of realizing that Farnham hasn't come yet as he moves down her body, licking along Dael's clit. She tastes of him, and he sucks around her heated spot before piercing her with his tongue, rolling it inside of her. His concentration is rather impeded by Farnham still rocking into him and the noises he hears next to him, another woman having a good time. He's actually too busy to look up but when Dael moves a little, he glances up and sees them kissing, Arissa and Dael, and while it's usually not a picture that would turn him on, in this moment when all is bathed in a sweet hormonal rush, he's swept away by it.
Dael comes beneath him, rocking her pelvis to meet his hungry mouth, and Farnham joins in this time, pushing deep into Pike. Arissa follows swiftly, her subdued cry like the final highlight. They all end depleted on the bed, limbs laced, hands still touching.
The exhaustion doesn't last very long, as they're all too aroused to be satiated with just one round. Farnham moves first, crawling between Eric's stretched-out legs and pulling the ass cheeks aside to give his lover a rim job.
Pike feels his dick stirring against Dael's hip, and he really, badly wants to fuck her. After a little rearrangement and a healthy portion of lube in her ass, they end in almost the same position they'd once had with Jim, Pike's cock deep in her tight hole and Arissa's dick up her pussy. Arissa's fingers seem to have some lesbian magic because she makes Dael come in a row of many sweet, hot orgasms that leave Dael absolutely done, and Pike is quite envious about that power. At last Arissa withdraws and Pike rolls Dael over, needing only a few pushes to come to his own climax.
*
It's much later, when they're really quite done and needing a break, that Pike sits next to Arissa, having a drink with her. His relationship with her is a little strange now, somehow. He really likes her as a person, and he's got no problem with her giving Dael (and Eric, for the matter) a good time, but when she'd tried to kiss him during their sandwich with Dael, he'd signaled stop, which she'd instantly noted and accepted. There's a limit of how far he wants to be connected with her, and a part of him is a little annoyed about not having been informed about her relationship with Dael.
"That wasn't your first time with Dael, was it?" he asks.
"No," Arissa admits. "We got closer three weeks ago, in one of our office nights for the ball. I wanted her to tell you, but she thought it would be better to surprise you."
He looks over to Dael who's quietly talking to Eric in a non-sexual atmosphere. Farnham rests one arm around his lover from behind while taking a brief nap, a light snore in hanging in the air.
"And Eric?"
"A bondage workshop last year, where he'd been one of the subs." She twinkles and combs some red curls out of her face. "Ended a little different than he expected. I like to pervert cute gays like him."
Pike closes his eyes, massaging his forehead. Unbelievable how incestuous the kink community is, no matter how large the city.
"Got a problem with it?" Arissa asks.
"No," he says and looks up again. "I just would've liked to know. About Dael and you."
"Really?" Arissa searches his eyes. "Because somehow I got the impression from Dael that you'd rather not know some things."
"I want to know what's going on. Even if it hurts me." Uh, wrong word choice. "But this doesn't. Frankly, I better like her being with you than with - well, certain other women."
Arissa's gaze turns suddenly far too analytical to Pike's taste, and so he looks back to Dael, stating, "But anyway, she's got all the freedom she wants and it's her decision how to handle it. So, all fine."
Arissa laughs, shaking her head but not pushing any farther, only stating that she needs to look after her party. She dresses up and leaves the four of them.
*
Dael and Pike are home in the early morning hours, taking a brief detour to shower and change into uniform. There's not even time for a coffee before Pike grabs Dael's luggage despite her complaints that she can carry it fine on her own, and calls the beam point to have them delivered to the shuttle port.
The excited mood of the night that had already decreased after the parting from their friends now morphs into an almost-depression as they face each other in front of the entry point, sleep-deprived and with the sad knowledge that they'd part for three months in a few minutes. Not quite knowing what to say, Pike kisses her, slow and gentle.
"I'll try to keep in contact, but I'm not sure I'll be able to," she says.
"I'll know that you're alive as long as Farnham doesn't come to visit me with a serious face," he tries to joke, but it falls flat. "Take care of yourself."
"Sure. It's only a training mission."
He combs through her hair, remembering too many letters written over the death of a trainee. Even with every one of the crew trying to protect them, some get killed. He can only hope she won't be one of those. "All I want is your safe return. No matter what else happens. Promise me you'll come back to me, even if it's only to say good-bye."
"I hate it when you're so melodramatic," Dael says, biting her bottom lip and looking away to hide her moistening eyes. "I'll come back so you better wait for me. I'm not going to let you run away with some random guy without a fight."
The last call for boarding comes in through the speakers.
"Good." He draws her into a tight embrace, they kiss another time - and then she's gone with one last wave of her hand, god knows where to, and he walks away like dazed.
He would have given anything to be able to go with her.
*** Act 2 ***
The apartment had appeared empty when his men had left, but without Dael, it's agonizingly void of life.
This time around, Pike expected that feeling and made plans to counteract it, writing up a list of things that should engage his time and interest.
There are receptions to attend, colleagues to meet for lunches and dinners. The Pathfinder upgrade is entering an interesting phase with the first test drive drawing close, and he also managed to talk the academy head into taking over an advanced two-week class on tactics for third year command track cadets.
In his private life, he's got a standing invitation by Farnham and Eric to join them for dinner and sex and has every intention to take them up on it. He also plans to see Tom and the kids and to have dinner with Nat once she's back from the extended off-planet trip she's currently undertaking with her husband.
On top of the list, though, there's something that's weighted on him for a while, and he decides to open a call right to the person who should be able to help with his problem.
The head of the language department instantly answers him. "Admiral Pike - to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Commander Z'han. I'm calling you on behalf of a personal request. I'm in need of a language coach - a personal instructor for Romulan, specifically, and I wonder if you could recommend someone to me."
Z'han gives him a polite half-smile. "For Romulan? Do you have any specific goal in mind?"
"I took a few courses way back in my own cadet years, and forgot most of it. I'd like to get back to a level where I can read and understand basic conversation." And read that book on Romulan poetry Dael has on her nightstand.
"I'd want to have someone with a good background in Romulan life. Preferably someone who lived in the Romulan Empire for a while."
Z'han tilts his head. "We don't have many language instructors who would meet this requirement," he says carefully.
"Not many or none?" Pike asks.
"One, exactly, but I would not recommend him to you."
"Why not?"
"He is currently on probation and not much in favor of Starfleet administration."
"On probation for what?"
"That is classified information, though you could probably access it," Z'han replies.
"Give me his name," Pike demands, and notes down Nicolai Asimov.
Once the line is closed, he calls up the man's personnel file. Asimov was born in Moscow and grew up on a research vessel with his parents. It was captured and destroyed by Romulans on the claim of border line violation, landing the family and their teenage son in Romulan slavery for five years until their freedom could be bought with a major investment by fellow research colleagues and some institutions.
Soon afterwards, Asimov applied to the academy and went through it without problems, lauded by most of his instructors. Lieutenant after his third posting, he was heading forward on a straight career path that should've made him first officer within the next year, but was instead involved in a failed mission that ended with him and a fellow officer in front of a Starfleet board for deliberately risking the life of two ensigns.
Pike reads through some of the protocols, and he's been in Starfleet for long enough to know that Asimov's only error had been to get into the middle of opposing forces, in this case into an ongoing feud between the captain and the other officer, and then being a handy pawn on which to settle the fall-out of the mission gone wrong. Now under probation at the academy, it's no surprise that the man would distrust higher 'fleet ranks.
An amused smile dances on Pike's lips. He likes challenges, and if it helps to get a promising young officer through his probation without leaving the fleet, all the better.
*
Great pictures, Farnham writes and forwards him a press article about the Rainbow Ball which includes - among many other shots - a rather large one of Pike and Dael in a tight embrace, his hands half-hidden under her super-short skirt, one of her booted thighs between his leather-clad legs. Not exactly a decent position, Pike has to admit, nurturing a slightly bad conscience for having put them on such a display. The Grande Opera has electronic distortion fields that should prevent unauthorized media recording, but it seems someone had managed to circumvent it. The article in full, however, is rather positive, touting the ball as a complete success and ending with the hope of a repetition.
Arissa links him to a gallery of pictures shot by accredited photographers, and he enjoys them a lot more, picking out a few decent ones to send to their men. Two of Dael and him alone, three of them together, and one with Farnham and Eric next to them.
I cannot believe she really wore yellow, Kirk writes. Did you fuck her with or without those boots on? You left out all the dirty details in your last report.
You look fabulous together, the doc writes. Can't get enough of you in black chaps.
Wish we'd been there, they both end with.
Pike heartily agrees.
*
"Am I off the hook?" Pike asks. It's Monday morning and he sits in Naaz' office, his animated brain in a hundred fancy colors thrown across the wall, the pulsing of its inner ticking a strange rhythm of life.
The hook is the still lingering threat of being subjected to the full inquisition at SFM, but he knows how to read her face and the images, and his brain is all good. Not perfect - never perfect since the Narada, but it's okay and stable, and the latter is the really important part. No changes over the last three months, nothing that points to any deterioration in his brain. Not even any sudden failures of his knee; lately he'd even stopped wearing the protectors.
"You are, for this week," she says a little threateningly, but then grins. "And I thought you might want to visit me for a while. Don't you get bored all alone at home?"
"Not bored enough to crave your special treatments."
"Fine by me." Naaz twinkles. "So I guess you won't complain when we go to monthly appointments for now?"
"Not at all." Pike feels a rush of relief -his self-control really had paid out this time, and this news is damn worth all the small moments of annoyance when his medical app issues yet another warning.
"Good. See you in a month, then." She waves him out, and he whistles as he half-dances down the stairways, shocking a few colleagues on his way who'd never seen oh-so-serene Admiral Pike like this.
He wishes he could tell Dael who's under complete radio silence, but at least he can send a message to his men.
"Great news, Chris," the answer starts, followed by a few shots of them with various obscene hand gestures and one with their lips pressed to the cam in an almost freaky kiss picture, and a "miss you, kiss you" line on the bottom. With a smile, Pike saves the message on his PADD, in the folder for things to look at on rainy days.
*
On Wednesday afternoon he joins the class "Romulan, Intermediate Conversation" to check in on the TA that's been recommended to him. Admittedly, Pike likes the effect his uniform has at times; even though he takes a seat in the very back, the cadets and instructor register his arrival and everyone straightens up in their chairs. He patiently sits through the hour, enjoying the break from his normal routine even though he doesn't understand a quarter of the conversation. When the class is over, everyone scrambles to their feet rather silently and leaves, their usual chatter subdued even outside in the corridor.
"May I help you, sir?" the TA asks when they're the only two people left.
"Lieutenant Asimov?"
"The same." The young man watches him as Pike gets up and walks to him.
"I'm Admiral Pike," he says and shakes Asimov's hand. "Your name came up when I asked Commander Z'han who might be suitable as my personal coach for Romulan."
"You need to learn Romulan?"
"Brush up, actually - but languages are my weak spot."
The young man forces a polite smile onto his face, probably thinking he's bullshitting but not inclined to contradict a high-ranking officer.
"Trust me, I'm terribly bad at languages, and my Romulan is more than rusty. But I'd like to improve, and I'd like to do so with you."
The man half-turns and plays around with his bag, his body language more than clear. "While I appreciate the commander throwing in my name, I don't think I'm the right man. I could recommend another teacher -"
"I heard you're the best - and the most interesting," Pike says, not ready to give up so quickly. "This isn't just about learning words; I want to know more about Romulan culture from someone who's experienced it."
That makes Asimov look up. "For what, comparing notes with -" He swallows the rest, but Pike completes it. "With Dael? Maybe. Do you know her?"
"I know her from sight, and from a few boards we both write on." The man's dislike for Dael is written all over his features.
This is getting really interesting.
Pike leans back against a table, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You've got a problem with her?"
"She's a R'leth. A Romulan fancier," Asimov says and despite his best efforts, Pike can hear the condescension. It makes him only more curious.
"And that means what?"
"That means she has no clue about the real Romulan Empire," Asimov states almost angrily, and then takes a deep breath. "I apologize, sir. I know she's grown up in a colony where obviously milk and honey grew on trees until human marauders ruined it all, but fact is that she doesn't know a lot about Romulans as a whole."
"An interesting point of view," Pike says. "That's what she writes on open boards?"
"Yes. Under a pseudonym, but I found out that it's her by chance."
Pike badly wants to surf those boards - a welcome incentive to brush up his Romulan even faster. Asimov turns out to be an even better choice than he'd originally thought, and he decides to be very frank with him. He unlaces his arms, curling his hands around the edge of the table.
"Your opinion is noted. As you seem to be aware, Dael is my partner. Usually she lives with me but she's currently away on her first mission, presumably in the Romulan Empire. Upon her return, I want to be able to read and speak Romulan as fluently as possible. Whether she knows Romulans as you got to know them or not, it is a large part of her personal history, and I want to be able to connect with it.
"I want you to work with me, because you've been reported to be both an inspiring teacher as well as a promising young officer who, may I be frank, had the bad luck to be get in the way of others. I'd like to give you a chance."
"And if I please you, you'll help me to get my commission back?" Asimov says darkly. "Do I have to bend over for it too or do you prefer other positions?"
Pike chuckles, although the implied accusation hits a little too close to home, and pushes himself up from the table. "I prefer you sitting on the other side of the table and helping me work on my Romulan by engaging me in interesting discussions. I don't like to get bored. Three months, and see it as exchange. I help you with your 'fleet issues, you help me with my Romulan. You know where to find me - you've got one week to decide."
Pike leaves without looking back.
Asimov calls three days later, and Pike manages to sound very professional when they arrange their first meeting.
*
It's on the second Sunday after Dael's departure when Pike wakes up to the subdued light of the morning with his arm outstretched to the empty side of the bed, and suddenly reality settles like a shock.
This isn't going to be just a week or two alone. Dael is gone for three months - everyone is gone. Whenever he comes home, his apartment is like a quiet shrine of everything he wants and never seems to gain, the rooms void of life. And no matter how many activities he tries to fill into his days, he's learned the difference between being busy and being happy, and he's far from the second right now.
There's a sudden spike of frustration, and he embraces it because it's at least some emotion. He'd moved into the large apartment mostly because of Dael, had let her into his life and relationships, and what had he gained from it? Yet another square one situation, where he wonders if it's been a bad idea from the start to get emotionally invested in anyone when it seems to be his universal fate to live alone.
His throat tight from the sudden onslaught of depression, he rolls out of bed and walks into the kitchen to switch on the coffee maker, reveling in its humming sound. He puts a generous portion of butter on his breakfast bagel and then sits down with the steaming cup, determined to improve his moody start of the day by raising his blood sugar.
Outside, it starts to rain.
*
On Monday, Nogura cancels the monthly meeting of the department heads until further notice, which causes a little stir-up in the admiralty, but not as much as it should, in Pike's opinion. He has lunch in the admirals' lounge a few times, trying to gather the current mood of his colleagues but the table talks are superficial, nobody willing to make in-depth statements. The prevalent interpretation seems to be that Nogura and Shaa are working on a new general strategy for Starfleet, which is discussed in smaller, focused work groups - of which he's no part, obviously.
Pike goes back to having lunch in his own office.
*
"So, how's our resident spy?" Kirk jokes over their real-time connection a week later, and doesn't stop smiling even when McCoy slaps him on his head.
"She sent only one brief recording," Pike replies from his home office. "Obviously, she likes it so far - wherever she is." He'd been extremely relieved to see her relaxed features and hear her calm voice. There'd been nothing of the slightly psychotic vibe from her Advanced Flight II recording, and it had eased some of his concerns.
It also makes him miss her like hell.
"It's so funny - we all got our own secrets. I've got my orders, Bones got his medical discretion, you've got your admiral's business, and she's going to get covert actions non-orders. That pretty much evens it out for all of us."
Pike's mind conjures pleasurable daydreams in which he throttles Kirk - just a little, not too much - because he still doesn't like the whole assignment. Contrary to Jim Kirk, who shares Dael's opinion that it's a great chance and interesting adventure. Damn kids.
"Jim!" McCoy admonishes his husband.
"Sorry," Kirk says but doesn't manage to sound as if he means it.
"You might not be aware of it, but John wrote reports on me for a long time, friendship or not," Pike says coolly. "I managed to get my hands on two, and while they didn't include anything of private nature, I was cautious around him for years."
"Oh." His audience turns quiet and thoughtful.
"So you wonder if one day, Dael would do that too?" McCoy asks.
"I hope not but you can imagine that I didn't like her decision a lot."
"You never stated it so plainly," Kirk says somewhat surprised.
"I did to her." There's a pregnant pause before Pike adds, "Let's talk about something else."
"I've got a better idea," McCoy says and winks. "You're at home and we've got fifteen minutes left, so what if Jim and I get down to some sexy business? You get to say what we should do, Chris."
And so he enjoys a lovely, very arousing scene, directing the doc to tie up Jim and go down on him while jacking off, and they all manage to come just within their tiny timeframe, which is quite a feat.
"We kept going after you had to sign off," the message arrives five hours later, and they attach a vid with the scene with him and the one afterward, how the two men switched places and Jim chained the doc to the bed, fisting him slowly and carefully until the doc was begging for mercy.
"Think of Chris watching us, wanting to see you come so hard," Jim mutters on the tape, at last his hand on the doc's cock, and the doc looks at the cam and comes all over his chest with a sharp cry.
The vid becomes Pike's favorite lullaby.
*
Arissa invites him to her birthday party, and he gives it a try for half an hour before feeling absolutely in the wrong place with the mostly lesbian guests, leaving with some excuse.
Farnham seems to be back in the business and is off and away. Pike spends an evening with Eric, but without John, there's just something missing, so they part and go home to their own, lonely beds.
His two-week class at the academy is canceled for organizational reasons, so in search of non-sexual distraction, Pike ups the number of receptions to three a week. He truly enjoys the many interesting discussions with diplomats of Federation worlds regarding the future developments of the confederation. But then rumors about a new, powerful technology being incorporated into 'fleet ships are spreading, and suddenly every lightly spoken word across a buffet or over a glass of whine becomes a careful dance, in which extremely crafty men and women try to gather information from him about Starfleet plans. It's quite an intellectual challenge.
Asimov and he meet three times a week at his office and Pike makes sure that the door to his assistant's anteroom is open and the cam is running, keeping away from Asimov as far as possible. He knows that by now many people have the opinion he'd jump any young sexy officer of any gender, and it's not a misunderstanding Pike is really able to clear up.
His progress with Romulan is as slow as he expected. Whenever he thinks about giving up, though, he remembers how Dael's face had lit up whenever Jim had addressed her in Romulan, and how he'd dumbly sat next to them, not understanding a word. Next time, he'd know what they were talking about.
Next time, he'd be the one speaking Romulan with Dael.
So with more motivation than ever he slogs through word lists, grammar and exercises like some bull-headed maniac but he still often frustrates his excellent teacher.
"I told you I'm bad at this," Pike says compassionately one day when the lieutenant's suffering is palpable.
"I thought you were joking," Asimov admits. "Isn't there a rule -?"
"That captains have to speak alien languages? No, and I guess it would decimate our ranks if there were," Pike says amused. "I'm especially bad but only a few are really good."
Asimov scratches his head, and then decides not to comment on this. "Let's get back to the irregular verbs," he says instead, and Pike sighs a little.
*
Sometimes he sits at his office table and stops whatever he is doing to play with the ring. It always makes him smile and think of the day they bought them, then of many other days he's spent with Dael.
He starts to write messages that are never going to be sent, but that she could read after her return, maybe, a diary of his time without her so that she wouldn't miss anything important.
*
With the apartment much too silent on Thursday night, he thinks about calling Eric when a surprise chat is established from the Enterprise.
It's McCoy, slouched on his bed; he's obviously fresh out of a shower with his hair still wet and his naked chest glittering from droplets of water, one hand out of sight, probably cupping his package. He looks good enough to eat, and Pike automatically licks his lips.
"You up for a game?" his lover asks over the comm.
"Maybe?" Pike replies, both interested and cautious.
"Go to your nightstand, bottom drawer. There's something I left behind."
Pike walks out and follows the directions, not really surprised about what he finds there.
"You want me to wear the collar?" Pike asks when he's back in front of the cam, the shining metal band with the key in front of them on the table. "I've never been a big fan of that kind of long-distance game."
"So if I told you to put it on, you'd say no?" McCoy asks, unruffled.
Pike squares his shoulders. "I didn't say that."
The doc sits up and gives him a thoughtful look. "You can stop anytime. You know that."
"And you know that once I join the game, I'm unlikely to say no in the middle," Pike retorts.
"Yes. That's definitely part of the beauty."
Pike looks away from the screen. "Fuck you," he mutters.
"Next time." The doc smiles, a damn intense smile. "Put it on, Chris. Give me the wonderful illusion that I've got a say in anything you do for a few days."
Pike might've been able to resist the order but not the second sentence, longing and desire frosted with sadness and what-if's. His hand curls around the metal even as he shakes his head and wants to say that he's not ready for shit like this, that he'd always thought people participating in these kinds of games are stupid to succumb to the wishes of someone on the other end of a comm line.
But maybe it's not important that there's a line between them and thousands of light years; it's only important that it feels right and he's ready to make such a step.
His hands almost work on their own; only the click of the lock brings him back to the here and now.
"Damn, Chris…" McCoy rasps. "You fucking own me, do you know that?"
"Isn't that supposed to work the other way round?" Pike says, not quite trusting his voice.
"It always works both ways." McCoy leans forward, shifting the cam a little. He's completely naked, and as reckoned, one hand is cradling a strong erection. "Strip for me, Chris. Give me a show."
"If I had known what I was signing sign up for…" Pike complains playfully as he gets up and very slowly pulls his black tee over his head. He runs his hands over his chest, presenting his best sides to the cam.
"Yeah, touch your nipples, rub them for me..." Under McCoy's ongoing orders, Pike puts on the demanded show, at last jerking off for him.
When he's done, he's boneless on his chair, his hands full of come. On the screen, McCoy is back to the slouched position, eyes half-closed with similar white droplets covering his chest.
"I'll send you a list of rules," the doc says.
"Hmm-hmm." Pike makes a lazy sound, too exhausted to complain about being given the rules after the start of the game.
What would be the fun if he knew them all beforehand?
*
You're in a meeting? the doc writes.
Yes, Pike messages back. Bored to death. Friday is my least favorite day.
They've got a delay of twenty-three minutes caused by the Enterprise' distance to Earth, but for the game, it works better than Pike would have expected.
Anyone in the room you'd like to have sex with? I bet there is. Tell me about the person.
One rule of the game is that Pike has agreed to answer every damn question truthfully. He eyes the round and wishes he hadn't promised it because now he'd have to consider that he's kind of interested in one member of his task force, the one of which he absolutely has to keep his hands off.
Fine. You want me to vent my currently darkest secret, so here it is. I've got that spy in my team who's young and bright. I've never been with anyone of his species, but I had a few hot fantasies of meeting him in my club by chance, on one of his trips to the dark corners of the human soul, and that he'd beg me to teach him more about human sexuality.
Pike wishes this was an exaggeration, but he had engaged in certain daydreams over Thelin lately and this could only mean he badly needed to join John and Eric for a round of sex. He's a little annoyed with himself for obviously needing gay sex like breathing but hell, it's all his men's fault.
You're underfucked, the doc writes back.
Guess why, Pike sends. Miss your dick up my ass.
The answer takes a while, and the meeting is almost over when it comes in.
Scotty spilled orange juice all over me and then managed to get a glimpse on your last message while cleaning up. Don't think he saw who the sender was but it was close.
Pike shakes his head. Thank you for protecting my reputation, that's
"Admiral, what's your opinion?" Esteban asks and Pike looks up, having not the faintest clue what's been said within the last few minutes.
"Apologies, gentlemen, my concentration is a little off," he says smoothly, inwardly annoyed that he needs to use his presumed disability as cover when his brain works more than well at the moment. "What was the question?"
"I think we should decide whether the new shield configurations can undergo an integration test in two weeks," Esteban says.
Thelin raises his hands. "I agree with the admiral that my concentration fails. I would suggest we shift the topic to our next meeting on Monday."
The round mostly agrees and the meeting ends. Esteban leaves with more than a little annoyance in his step, while Thelin is the last to remain with Pike. The Andorian stands, hands on an empty chair's back.
Pike leans back with a sigh, about to open the top buttons of his uniform before remembering the metal collar beneath which might be visible through the shirt. He yanks his hand away. "Lieutenant - while I appreciate your support, there is no need to make a fellow, higher-ranking officer look bad. I suggest you avoid such actions in the future."
"By Andorian standards, prolonging a meeting when the leader is obviously occupied otherwise makes an officer look bad."
Pike rubs his chin. "Interesting view point. Unfortunately, Captain Esteban didn't see it like that."
Thelin's antennae center on Pike. "He doesn't like you," the Andorian diagnoses calmly.
"He doesn't like my private life choices," Pike corrects him. "That has nothing to do with our professional understanding." Or at least, it shouldn't.
Thelin's grip on the chair tightens. "By Andorian standards, this would be unacceptable," the young man says. "If it were my team, I would have removed him already." He nods sharply, then walks out.
Pike put his elbows on table, heavily resting his head in his hands. He should feel good about Thelin obviously being on his side, but he doesn't.
You just fucked up my team some more, damnit, he sends out. He's not surprised when McCoy isn't the least remorseful.
You manage that all by yourself, Admiral.
*
It's late on Saturday night, and Pike for once looks left and right before entering the Joy Club. It's one of the more sleazy gay bars, with a shady reputation - although he'd gotten to know its owner, Till Alicanta, over the meetings for the Rainbow Ball and the man had left a good impression with him. Pike still wouldn't choose this bar ordinarily, but it's the one with an old-fashioned glory hole, the easiest way to fulfill his assignment for tonight:
Get your dick sucked by someone anonymous, and think of me. And if anyone offers more, go for it.
Admittedly, he could've also just gone to another club with a dark room, but it's been a while since he'd done something that felt this dirty, and he wants to enjoy this trip down memory lane. The glory hole room is rather dark and small, just space enough for two people per side, with the separated entries so far apart in the club that it's quite impossible to find out who the participants on the other side are.
Standing in front of that wall, his dick doesn't need much encouragement to rise to full glory. He takes out a condom, rolling it over its length, then leans forward and inserts his erection into one of the holes at an appropriate height.
The waiting that usually follows is the strangest thing; listening to footsteps drawing close, passing by or stopping; the slight sound of shoes scraping over the floor, clothes shifting or zippers being pulled… or just listening to white noise, which is the most common event.
Pike leans against the wall with one bent arm and keeps gently rubbing the base of his dick. His thoughts stray to the doc, and he imagines him standing behind him, ready to watch him getting sucked dry by a stranger. He's quite deep in fantasy land when a sound startles him, and he peeks over his shoulder to find another man coming in. It's so dark he barely sees a thing, but the man seems to look at him, checking out the situation. Pike turns his head back to the wall, looking down to his own dick in a gesture of come in, I don't care.
After a hesitant pause, the man draws closer, but his next moves are drowned in the sudden activity on the other side of Pike's hole, a hand capturing his latex-covered member in a tentative first stroke. The touch feels good, and Pike encouragingly cants his hips forward to poke more of his dick through the wall opening. Fingers close around his base, and seconds later, his member is embedded in the warm, slick heat of someone's mouth. It feels damn hot, and he enjoys the other one's work for a moment before thrusting in and out a little, testing the waters for a mouth fuck. As his glans hits the bottom of the man's mouth, Pike groans; the guy on the other side is definitely not new to deep-throating, and so he pushes forward again, riding the other one's face.
He startles as fingers brush over the strip of naked skin at the top of his lowered pants.
"Wanna get more?" the man that arrived a while ago whispers, rubbing along his crack in an unambiguous gesture. Pike isn't completely comfortable with the idea, and the man picks up on it, adding, "I'm playing safe. You can check." There's something brushing along his thigh, and Pike reaches down to feel a hard erection sheathed in a condom.
If anyone offers more, go for it.
"Okay," Pike rasps, voice low.
It's all the encouragement the man needs to pulls his pants further down, and Pike is torn between pushing deep into the hole and arching back against the fingers that search his anal entry now, slicking him up. It becomes quite a dance, and he's already half-gone from the stimulation when he's pinned against the wall from behind, pierced deeply by a rather large dick. Between the double impact of fucking and getting fucked, his mind full of real memories and wild fantasies of his men doing this to him, he's riding an incredible high until he feels the climax approaching, the pull in his balls, the coiling tension in his body right before orgasm… and then it breaks and it's as fantastic as the foreplay suggested, waves crushing through him as he spasms and shakes, uselessly searching for a hold on the wall but being held steadily from behind as his legs almost give in.
When he finds his breath again, the other man has already pulled out, and he feels strangely empty. But then the man takes his hand, directing it to the still hard dick, and Pike doesn't think twice before he gets down on his knees to suck him off, giving him a great ride for the short time the guy lasts, in the end rather sorry that the load lands in the condom's head and not deep in his throat. The man's hands on his head are strong but careful, caressingly brushing through his hair in the aftermath. They finally break apart, adjusting their clothes.
"Meet outside at the bar?" the man says quietly.
"Maybe," Pike says. The man nods and leaves.
When Pike walks out, rather cautious of being seen, he makes a much-needed detour to the restroom before peeking into the bar. It's rather empty, and he scans the handful of guests. The man had worn a long jacket with buttons, and there's only one person with that outfit, animatedly talking to a second man. Pike eyes their faces, which look somehow familiar. His suspicion is confirmed when they change position so that one of the small lights illuminates their features. They're both in Starfleet, even working a few floors beneath Pike's. For a second, Pike is still compelled to walk in and talk to them; but then he decides that he really doesn't need any further complications in his love life, and walks in the other direction. There's no visible second exit, so he knocks at the door with the label private. As hoped, the owner Till Alicanta opens.
"Good evening, Till," Pike says. "Don't want to interrupt you, but does your club have a back door where you could let me out?"
"Hello, Chris," the man says, instantly concerned. "Any trouble in the club?"
"No, just a great anonymous encounter which I want to keep that way."
"Ah, and the guy is waiting for you now," Alicanta says with an understanding grin.
"I didn't say no to the suggestion but it wouldn't fit at all."
Alicanta nods and shows him out of a hidden door. "At least it sounds like you had a great evening," he says with a twinkle.
"Yes, thanks. Might come back another day." Pike walks out into a small court that leads into the streets, the cool rain on his face a somehow fitting end of the scene.
There's a message on his PADD when he gets home, Tell me everything, and he sits down to record a voice message.
*
Onto Part 5
And then it's suddenly a day before Dael's departure and one minute until the Rainbow Ball opens. Pike stands at the sideline next to Ole, watching Arissa whirling around with last minute orders before the doors open and a long row of people wind their way into the Grande Opera.
"Where's Dael?" Pike asks Arissa when he manages to catch her for a moment, and she shrugs. "Wanted to change clothes. Should be here any second."
They idly stand around for a few minutes at the passage between the entry hall and the ballroom, watching the influx of guests. "Looks like it's going to be a great evening," Pike says. He feels almost underdressed in his leather outfit, the classic chaps and the open vest combined with boots and leather jocks, but that's what he feels most comfortable in. Besides, he doesn't have to prove anything tonight.
"Hmm, yes," Ole supplies. Pike's business partner had resisted the ball almost until the last moment, but once he'd stepped through the door, the exciting atmosphere had caught up with him. Now Ole seems every bit inclined to enjoy the evening, and as one especially interesting piece of ass walks in, Ole graciously lifts one hand behind his head, showing off his perfect bodybuilder muscles beneath his khaki net shirt. Pike smirks as he watches the men exchange gazes. This would be quite a field day for Ole, who likes hunting fresh meat.
"Maybe your idea wasn't that bad," Ole relents as his eyes follow the next group of hot young men.
"Thank you." While Pike isn't on the hunt, he definitely enjoys the variety he sees tonight.
"Joe!" he greets the owner of the Blue Sun. The bear-sized man winks at him and comes over, a tiny Orion woman at his side.
"Meet one of my wives, Ranai," Mercury says. "You might know her, she's working on UP." He twinkles.
"Of course I know her. Lieutenant Ranai, I didn't know that you'd spend your shoreleave here," Pike says as he shakes the hand of one of Cho's engineers.
"I wanted to fly to Saturn, sir, but Joe insisted on this party. And it looks as if it's been a good idea." Ranai smiles deeply. "Come on, Joe, the admiral wants to enjoy the evening without feeling like he's under scrutiny from colleagues - and I want that too." With typical Orion directness, she says aloud what had crossed Pike's mind, and he nods. She passes him with Mercury in tow, and it looks rather funny how the broad-shouldered man follows her lead.
"Ole, did you know -?" he starts.
"Whoa," Ole says, interrupting his thought, and Pike turns his head. A gasp escapes his own lips as he sees Dael coming down the stairways from the room they've used for organizing; she's all in bright yellow, of all colors, a super-tight wet-look top with interesting cuts and laces barely covering her chest, a fitted skirt so short that it barely deserves the name, and high-heeled platform boots so well-chosen that when she stands in front of him, she's a little taller than him. It's strange to look up in her face, but also fucking hot. He slips his hands under her skirt and pulls her into a kiss. Even her tattoos seem to shimmer in new, exciting colors, sparkling in the lights of hall.
"Do you like it?" she asks a little breathlessly. Skimming her ass with his hands and glad that she's got some tiny underwear beneath it, he shakes his head. "Too hot," he whispers in her ear but smirks as he withdraws. "What happened to keeping out of the spotlight?"
"Thought I'd skip that for tonight," she says with a wink, pressing her groin against his. Their heights are just perfect for fucking, and he automatically pulls her close, nudging his growing erection between her legs. The rhythm of the music catches them, and they move on the spot, kissing and rubbing against each other until she breaks apart. "I really need to help Arissa some more."
"Damn," he groans but lets her go, one hand still lingering on her ass. "When are you going to be free?"
"In an hour, I hope. Just some last-minute things." She laughs and walks away, the tiny skirt swinging with every step. He hadn't even know she could walk in shoes like that, and he wouldn't have guessed either that it would be such a hot visual turn-on for him.
Hello fetish he never knew he had.
Ole gives him an appreciating eyebrow, then waves and points towards the dance floor, gone a second later.
Pike walks through the ball room and along the bars, greeting and being greeted by various people. "Hey, Chris," someone calls him and he turns to find Farnham and Eric. They welcome him with hugs and kisses which he readily answers. He isn't completely over the fact yet that his old friend had played a role in Dael's recruitment for Intelligence, but his overall mood is too good right now to hold the grudge. This night is for hot action, no holds barred, and he wouldn't mind a repetition of their club evening or variations of the theme.
"How do you like it?" Pike asks, his hands on their shoulders.
"Fabulous. You should organize something like that more often."
"It was Arissa's idea, not mine," Pike says, unwilling to claim this unearned praise. "The owner of the Silver Barracuda. The woman over there with the long red curls, next to Dael." He nods towards their position.
"Oh," Eric says, his eyes widening. "I think I've met her before. And whoa, that's De?" The young man squints. "Fabulous. You were right, Chris. She really is a woman. But I still like the guy she can be."
Dael waves over to them, signaling that the two women would be occupied a little longer, so Pike allows his friends to drag him away for a non-alcoholic drink, relaxed and happy between them. Sometimes, when Dael passes them, she stops for a moment and sips from his drink and flirts both with him and Eric, for good measure. Pike is unable to keep his hands from slipping under her skirt, almost annoyed that he'd never even tried to get her into an outfit like this, considering the effect on his dick.
"Feeling good, aren't you?" Farnham whispers in his ear, one hand snug against Pike's bulge.
"Absolutely," Pike says, taking the surprising attack of Eric's mouth on his nipples with equanimity - at least for a second, before the touches are just too fucking arousing and he moans into them. Soon the three of them are practically making out at the bar; not exactly something he would've favored in the past, but he's just as unable to keep his own hands off his friends' bodies. At least it's rather dark now, and the loud music swallows any sounds. He's ready to accept that these two are more to him than just friends and occasional lovers, gives in to the feeling of love that surrounds him as they take him into their middle.
"Finally," someone says next to him, startling them all a little and ending the scene. Pike opens his eyes to find Arissa and Dael.
"Finally we've got time for our own fun," Arissa says. "And I see, we've got to do some catching-up, right, sweetie?" she adds with a smile at Eric, who blushes under her gaze. Pike files the young man's amusing reaction away for future consideration, before something else catches his interest. The way Arissa is draped over Dael, the way her arms are laced around Dael's hips…
"Something I should know here?" he says. "Thought you keep away from you personnel." Dael encounters his questioning gaze openly, looking neither nervous nor contrite.
"Right, I don't touch my personnel," Arissa says and leans her chin on Dael's shoulder. "But she isn't my barkeep anymore, as you well know." She looks at him expectantly, a silent come on, say something in her eyes.
He needs a second to adjust his brain; he hadn't seen this coming at all but watching them together now…is perfectly fine by him. He's not sure why, when he had all kinds of misgivings about Caitleen, but Arissa is grown-up and experienced, and he likes to think she knows her own emotions and plays fair. At last he answers their questioning gazes with a smile. "Do I lose gay points when I say that you look hot together?"
"Totally," Arissa smirks back. "Getting predictable and straight in your old days."
"I like to think I get better and cooler all the time." He turns his head when he feels a hand on his ass, or more precisely on the strip of naked air between the jocks and his chaps. "May I have this dance?" Farnham asks from the seat behind him, eyes on Dael.
"Do I lose lesbian points when I say that you look hot together?" Arissa says, which makes Dael slap her hand a little. "You may," Dael replies to Farnham and before Pike can complain about getting bartered away like this, they're already dancing. As the dance floor is full, it's a very cozy dance, more like a slow fuck actually, and just as arousing.
"Did Arissa send you to get me away from Dael?" Pike asks amused.
Farnham smirks. "Just temporarily. The masterplan is that we all get each other in the end."
Pike looks around for Eric, and finds him in a rather intimate head-to-head with some long-haired guy.
"He's currently occupied but he'll join us later." Suddenly, Farnham stops. "Hey, where's your Academy ring gone…?" He pulls Pike's right hand between them, eyeing the new jewelry in detail before looking over to Dael. "Rings? It's really damn serious to you."
"It always was," Pike says, pushing them into moving again. "I bought two more rings," he adds says over the sound of the music. "They'll wait for Jim and the doc when they come back."
"It's a goddamn love story." Farnham shakes his head and grins, then leans forward into a kiss. Pike answers it, more than a little aroused from the evening so far.
The whole floor seems to inhale deeply when the next song starts, the uncontested hymn of all sexual minorities since the middle of the twentieth century, remixed and reworked more than any other song in thousand of languages by now, but always starting with the same, magic lines.
I am what I am
I am my own, special creation
The movements are slow at first, everyone getting a feel for the song, the sharp, political statement behind the simple words.
I am what I am
I don't want praise I don't want pity
Most people sing along now, moving in the rhythm of the song, something magical and timeless forming between them all. Dael meets his gaze, Arissa moving behind her, both hands on Dael's hips. They are singing, their voices drowned in the crowd but their lips moving, eyes half-closed.
It's one life and there's no return and no deposit
One life, so it's time to open up your closet
Damn true, Pike thinks and leans back against Farnham, eyes still on Dael, the unexpected way she sings her heart out.
The crowd explodes, one large mass of heated bodies that exhales and inhales with every word like one large organism, exuding boundless love and belonging like nothing Pike has ever experienced before, and he's drunk on the feeling, everyone else's and his own, Dael suddenly in front of him and Farnham behind him, feeling fucking perfect and complete.
"I rented Loge 13," Arissa says breathlessly. "Let's move."
*
Dael is all spread out, slick from the first orgasm that had been Arissa's doing, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly open, her smile inviting and daring. Pike crawls over her for a kiss, devouring her for a moment before drawing back, angling his rock-hard erection into position. He's teasing her at first, just nudging his head along her clit and the pushed-aside thong, gliding along the edge without entering until she hooks her legs around his butt and draws him towards her. With a sigh he sinks in, as slowly as he manages to, and she whimpers, a gorgeous sound. But before he can do more about it, hands on his hips still his movement. A slick finger glides down between his ass cheeks as Farnham bends over. "Want you, Chris. Want to fuck you into her."
Pike doesn't even think as he spreads his legs a little farther. "Yes," he breathes, and the finger breaches him instantly. There's barely any resistance, he feels wide and ready and goddamn he wants the real thing right fucking now. Underneath him, Dael wiggles her hips, using her chance at teasing him when he can't quite move.
"Come on," he says back over his shoulder when Farnham seems inclined to go through a lengthy preparation as if he were some virgin. "Fuck me."
He feels Farnham's weight shifting, the grip leaving one side and returning on the other, a dick getting wiped up and down his crack, tickling his perineum before finding the right spot.
Pike sinks forward with a groan as Farnham enters him forcefully, just right, just what he needs, and he braces his arms to keep Dael from getting crushed by the added weight. She looks fine though, eyes closed and an excited smile on her half-opened lips. Her breathing turns quick and sharp as Farnham starts moving, rhythmically pulling him slightly out of her before pushing back in. They moan in unison, higher and darker voices, and it takes Pike a moment before he realizes that they're not the only one making noises here. Next to them, Eric kneels over Arissa and rides her large dildo with long, deep, movements. His dick in front of a heavy cockring is almost purple and leaking with every bounce, a wet spot on Arissa's naked belly. This really looks as if Eric has met her before, and he'd definitely ask about it later.
"Oh, fuck," he gasps as the arousing images get pushed out of his focus by an especially deep thrust. So damn good, he almost can't believe they've never done that before.
"You're so beautiful," Farnham rasps and leans over, pressing Pike into Dael. "Chris, god, Chris… you're so hot."
Pike is a little out of it by now, wiped away by the fucking perfect feel of Farnham behind and Dael under him, cheek to cheek riding this high together. He's so close and yet so far, captured on a plateau of incredible arousal, all of his body buzzing and vibrating, incredibly alive. Lips on his cheeks and hands on his hips, a muscular body pressing into his, leading the way into what feels like an absolute mind wiper of an orgasm. As the dam breaks, he's helplessly rutting into Dael, sobbing in her embrace as the waves crush him, taking his breath away until he almost blacks out.
"Chris, fuck…" From behind, Farnham strokes his back and down his upper arms as Pike slowly comes back to himself. "Come on, lick her clean, Chris. Let me see how you good are with your tongue."
They both scoot backwards, Pike kind of realizing that Farnham hasn't come yet as he moves down her body, licking along Dael's clit. She tastes of him, and he sucks around her heated spot before piercing her with his tongue, rolling it inside of her. His concentration is rather impeded by Farnham still rocking into him and the noises he hears next to him, another woman having a good time. He's actually too busy to look up but when Dael moves a little, he glances up and sees them kissing, Arissa and Dael, and while it's usually not a picture that would turn him on, in this moment when all is bathed in a sweet hormonal rush, he's swept away by it.
Dael comes beneath him, rocking her pelvis to meet his hungry mouth, and Farnham joins in this time, pushing deep into Pike. Arissa follows swiftly, her subdued cry like the final highlight. They all end depleted on the bed, limbs laced, hands still touching.
The exhaustion doesn't last very long, as they're all too aroused to be satiated with just one round. Farnham moves first, crawling between Eric's stretched-out legs and pulling the ass cheeks aside to give his lover a rim job.
Pike feels his dick stirring against Dael's hip, and he really, badly wants to fuck her. After a little rearrangement and a healthy portion of lube in her ass, they end in almost the same position they'd once had with Jim, Pike's cock deep in her tight hole and Arissa's dick up her pussy. Arissa's fingers seem to have some lesbian magic because she makes Dael come in a row of many sweet, hot orgasms that leave Dael absolutely done, and Pike is quite envious about that power. At last Arissa withdraws and Pike rolls Dael over, needing only a few pushes to come to his own climax.
*
It's much later, when they're really quite done and needing a break, that Pike sits next to Arissa, having a drink with her. His relationship with her is a little strange now, somehow. He really likes her as a person, and he's got no problem with her giving Dael (and Eric, for the matter) a good time, but when she'd tried to kiss him during their sandwich with Dael, he'd signaled stop, which she'd instantly noted and accepted. There's a limit of how far he wants to be connected with her, and a part of him is a little annoyed about not having been informed about her relationship with Dael.
"That wasn't your first time with Dael, was it?" he asks.
"No," Arissa admits. "We got closer three weeks ago, in one of our office nights for the ball. I wanted her to tell you, but she thought it would be better to surprise you."
He looks over to Dael who's quietly talking to Eric in a non-sexual atmosphere. Farnham rests one arm around his lover from behind while taking a brief nap, a light snore in hanging in the air.
"And Eric?"
"A bondage workshop last year, where he'd been one of the subs." She twinkles and combs some red curls out of her face. "Ended a little different than he expected. I like to pervert cute gays like him."
Pike closes his eyes, massaging his forehead. Unbelievable how incestuous the kink community is, no matter how large the city.
"Got a problem with it?" Arissa asks.
"No," he says and looks up again. "I just would've liked to know. About Dael and you."
"Really?" Arissa searches his eyes. "Because somehow I got the impression from Dael that you'd rather not know some things."
"I want to know what's going on. Even if it hurts me." Uh, wrong word choice. "But this doesn't. Frankly, I better like her being with you than with - well, certain other women."
Arissa's gaze turns suddenly far too analytical to Pike's taste, and so he looks back to Dael, stating, "But anyway, she's got all the freedom she wants and it's her decision how to handle it. So, all fine."
Arissa laughs, shaking her head but not pushing any farther, only stating that she needs to look after her party. She dresses up and leaves the four of them.
*
Dael and Pike are home in the early morning hours, taking a brief detour to shower and change into uniform. There's not even time for a coffee before Pike grabs Dael's luggage despite her complaints that she can carry it fine on her own, and calls the beam point to have them delivered to the shuttle port.
The excited mood of the night that had already decreased after the parting from their friends now morphs into an almost-depression as they face each other in front of the entry point, sleep-deprived and with the sad knowledge that they'd part for three months in a few minutes. Not quite knowing what to say, Pike kisses her, slow and gentle.
"I'll try to keep in contact, but I'm not sure I'll be able to," she says.
"I'll know that you're alive as long as Farnham doesn't come to visit me with a serious face," he tries to joke, but it falls flat. "Take care of yourself."
"Sure. It's only a training mission."
He combs through her hair, remembering too many letters written over the death of a trainee. Even with every one of the crew trying to protect them, some get killed. He can only hope she won't be one of those. "All I want is your safe return. No matter what else happens. Promise me you'll come back to me, even if it's only to say good-bye."
"I hate it when you're so melodramatic," Dael says, biting her bottom lip and looking away to hide her moistening eyes. "I'll come back so you better wait for me. I'm not going to let you run away with some random guy without a fight."
The last call for boarding comes in through the speakers.
"Good." He draws her into a tight embrace, they kiss another time - and then she's gone with one last wave of her hand, god knows where to, and he walks away like dazed.
He would have given anything to be able to go with her.
*** Act 2 ***
The apartment had appeared empty when his men had left, but without Dael, it's agonizingly void of life.
This time around, Pike expected that feeling and made plans to counteract it, writing up a list of things that should engage his time and interest.
There are receptions to attend, colleagues to meet for lunches and dinners. The Pathfinder upgrade is entering an interesting phase with the first test drive drawing close, and he also managed to talk the academy head into taking over an advanced two-week class on tactics for third year command track cadets.
In his private life, he's got a standing invitation by Farnham and Eric to join them for dinner and sex and has every intention to take them up on it. He also plans to see Tom and the kids and to have dinner with Nat once she's back from the extended off-planet trip she's currently undertaking with her husband.
On top of the list, though, there's something that's weighted on him for a while, and he decides to open a call right to the person who should be able to help with his problem.
The head of the language department instantly answers him. "Admiral Pike - to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Commander Z'han. I'm calling you on behalf of a personal request. I'm in need of a language coach - a personal instructor for Romulan, specifically, and I wonder if you could recommend someone to me."
Z'han gives him a polite half-smile. "For Romulan? Do you have any specific goal in mind?"
"I took a few courses way back in my own cadet years, and forgot most of it. I'd like to get back to a level where I can read and understand basic conversation." And read that book on Romulan poetry Dael has on her nightstand.
"I'd want to have someone with a good background in Romulan life. Preferably someone who lived in the Romulan Empire for a while."
Z'han tilts his head. "We don't have many language instructors who would meet this requirement," he says carefully.
"Not many or none?" Pike asks.
"One, exactly, but I would not recommend him to you."
"Why not?"
"He is currently on probation and not much in favor of Starfleet administration."
"On probation for what?"
"That is classified information, though you could probably access it," Z'han replies.
"Give me his name," Pike demands, and notes down Nicolai Asimov.
Once the line is closed, he calls up the man's personnel file. Asimov was born in Moscow and grew up on a research vessel with his parents. It was captured and destroyed by Romulans on the claim of border line violation, landing the family and their teenage son in Romulan slavery for five years until their freedom could be bought with a major investment by fellow research colleagues and some institutions.
Soon afterwards, Asimov applied to the academy and went through it without problems, lauded by most of his instructors. Lieutenant after his third posting, he was heading forward on a straight career path that should've made him first officer within the next year, but was instead involved in a failed mission that ended with him and a fellow officer in front of a Starfleet board for deliberately risking the life of two ensigns.
Pike reads through some of the protocols, and he's been in Starfleet for long enough to know that Asimov's only error had been to get into the middle of opposing forces, in this case into an ongoing feud between the captain and the other officer, and then being a handy pawn on which to settle the fall-out of the mission gone wrong. Now under probation at the academy, it's no surprise that the man would distrust higher 'fleet ranks.
An amused smile dances on Pike's lips. He likes challenges, and if it helps to get a promising young officer through his probation without leaving the fleet, all the better.
*
Great pictures, Farnham writes and forwards him a press article about the Rainbow Ball which includes - among many other shots - a rather large one of Pike and Dael in a tight embrace, his hands half-hidden under her super-short skirt, one of her booted thighs between his leather-clad legs. Not exactly a decent position, Pike has to admit, nurturing a slightly bad conscience for having put them on such a display. The Grande Opera has electronic distortion fields that should prevent unauthorized media recording, but it seems someone had managed to circumvent it. The article in full, however, is rather positive, touting the ball as a complete success and ending with the hope of a repetition.
Arissa links him to a gallery of pictures shot by accredited photographers, and he enjoys them a lot more, picking out a few decent ones to send to their men. Two of Dael and him alone, three of them together, and one with Farnham and Eric next to them.
I cannot believe she really wore yellow, Kirk writes. Did you fuck her with or without those boots on? You left out all the dirty details in your last report.
You look fabulous together, the doc writes. Can't get enough of you in black chaps.
Wish we'd been there, they both end with.
Pike heartily agrees.
*
"Am I off the hook?" Pike asks. It's Monday morning and he sits in Naaz' office, his animated brain in a hundred fancy colors thrown across the wall, the pulsing of its inner ticking a strange rhythm of life.
The hook is the still lingering threat of being subjected to the full inquisition at SFM, but he knows how to read her face and the images, and his brain is all good. Not perfect - never perfect since the Narada, but it's okay and stable, and the latter is the really important part. No changes over the last three months, nothing that points to any deterioration in his brain. Not even any sudden failures of his knee; lately he'd even stopped wearing the protectors.
"You are, for this week," she says a little threateningly, but then grins. "And I thought you might want to visit me for a while. Don't you get bored all alone at home?"
"Not bored enough to crave your special treatments."
"Fine by me." Naaz twinkles. "So I guess you won't complain when we go to monthly appointments for now?"
"Not at all." Pike feels a rush of relief -his self-control really had paid out this time, and this news is damn worth all the small moments of annoyance when his medical app issues yet another warning.
"Good. See you in a month, then." She waves him out, and he whistles as he half-dances down the stairways, shocking a few colleagues on his way who'd never seen oh-so-serene Admiral Pike like this.
He wishes he could tell Dael who's under complete radio silence, but at least he can send a message to his men.
"Great news, Chris," the answer starts, followed by a few shots of them with various obscene hand gestures and one with their lips pressed to the cam in an almost freaky kiss picture, and a "miss you, kiss you" line on the bottom. With a smile, Pike saves the message on his PADD, in the folder for things to look at on rainy days.
*
On Wednesday afternoon he joins the class "Romulan, Intermediate Conversation" to check in on the TA that's been recommended to him. Admittedly, Pike likes the effect his uniform has at times; even though he takes a seat in the very back, the cadets and instructor register his arrival and everyone straightens up in their chairs. He patiently sits through the hour, enjoying the break from his normal routine even though he doesn't understand a quarter of the conversation. When the class is over, everyone scrambles to their feet rather silently and leaves, their usual chatter subdued even outside in the corridor.
"May I help you, sir?" the TA asks when they're the only two people left.
"Lieutenant Asimov?"
"The same." The young man watches him as Pike gets up and walks to him.
"I'm Admiral Pike," he says and shakes Asimov's hand. "Your name came up when I asked Commander Z'han who might be suitable as my personal coach for Romulan."
"You need to learn Romulan?"
"Brush up, actually - but languages are my weak spot."
The young man forces a polite smile onto his face, probably thinking he's bullshitting but not inclined to contradict a high-ranking officer.
"Trust me, I'm terribly bad at languages, and my Romulan is more than rusty. But I'd like to improve, and I'd like to do so with you."
The man half-turns and plays around with his bag, his body language more than clear. "While I appreciate the commander throwing in my name, I don't think I'm the right man. I could recommend another teacher -"
"I heard you're the best - and the most interesting," Pike says, not ready to give up so quickly. "This isn't just about learning words; I want to know more about Romulan culture from someone who's experienced it."
That makes Asimov look up. "For what, comparing notes with -" He swallows the rest, but Pike completes it. "With Dael? Maybe. Do you know her?"
"I know her from sight, and from a few boards we both write on." The man's dislike for Dael is written all over his features.
This is getting really interesting.
Pike leans back against a table, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You've got a problem with her?"
"She's a R'leth. A Romulan fancier," Asimov says and despite his best efforts, Pike can hear the condescension. It makes him only more curious.
"And that means what?"
"That means she has no clue about the real Romulan Empire," Asimov states almost angrily, and then takes a deep breath. "I apologize, sir. I know she's grown up in a colony where obviously milk and honey grew on trees until human marauders ruined it all, but fact is that she doesn't know a lot about Romulans as a whole."
"An interesting point of view," Pike says. "That's what she writes on open boards?"
"Yes. Under a pseudonym, but I found out that it's her by chance."
Pike badly wants to surf those boards - a welcome incentive to brush up his Romulan even faster. Asimov turns out to be an even better choice than he'd originally thought, and he decides to be very frank with him. He unlaces his arms, curling his hands around the edge of the table.
"Your opinion is noted. As you seem to be aware, Dael is my partner. Usually she lives with me but she's currently away on her first mission, presumably in the Romulan Empire. Upon her return, I want to be able to read and speak Romulan as fluently as possible. Whether she knows Romulans as you got to know them or not, it is a large part of her personal history, and I want to be able to connect with it.
"I want you to work with me, because you've been reported to be both an inspiring teacher as well as a promising young officer who, may I be frank, had the bad luck to be get in the way of others. I'd like to give you a chance."
"And if I please you, you'll help me to get my commission back?" Asimov says darkly. "Do I have to bend over for it too or do you prefer other positions?"
Pike chuckles, although the implied accusation hits a little too close to home, and pushes himself up from the table. "I prefer you sitting on the other side of the table and helping me work on my Romulan by engaging me in interesting discussions. I don't like to get bored. Three months, and see it as exchange. I help you with your 'fleet issues, you help me with my Romulan. You know where to find me - you've got one week to decide."
Pike leaves without looking back.
Asimov calls three days later, and Pike manages to sound very professional when they arrange their first meeting.
*
It's on the second Sunday after Dael's departure when Pike wakes up to the subdued light of the morning with his arm outstretched to the empty side of the bed, and suddenly reality settles like a shock.
This isn't going to be just a week or two alone. Dael is gone for three months - everyone is gone. Whenever he comes home, his apartment is like a quiet shrine of everything he wants and never seems to gain, the rooms void of life. And no matter how many activities he tries to fill into his days, he's learned the difference between being busy and being happy, and he's far from the second right now.
There's a sudden spike of frustration, and he embraces it because it's at least some emotion. He'd moved into the large apartment mostly because of Dael, had let her into his life and relationships, and what had he gained from it? Yet another square one situation, where he wonders if it's been a bad idea from the start to get emotionally invested in anyone when it seems to be his universal fate to live alone.
His throat tight from the sudden onslaught of depression, he rolls out of bed and walks into the kitchen to switch on the coffee maker, reveling in its humming sound. He puts a generous portion of butter on his breakfast bagel and then sits down with the steaming cup, determined to improve his moody start of the day by raising his blood sugar.
Outside, it starts to rain.
*
On Monday, Nogura cancels the monthly meeting of the department heads until further notice, which causes a little stir-up in the admiralty, but not as much as it should, in Pike's opinion. He has lunch in the admirals' lounge a few times, trying to gather the current mood of his colleagues but the table talks are superficial, nobody willing to make in-depth statements. The prevalent interpretation seems to be that Nogura and Shaa are working on a new general strategy for Starfleet, which is discussed in smaller, focused work groups - of which he's no part, obviously.
Pike goes back to having lunch in his own office.
*
"So, how's our resident spy?" Kirk jokes over their real-time connection a week later, and doesn't stop smiling even when McCoy slaps him on his head.
"She sent only one brief recording," Pike replies from his home office. "Obviously, she likes it so far - wherever she is." He'd been extremely relieved to see her relaxed features and hear her calm voice. There'd been nothing of the slightly psychotic vibe from her Advanced Flight II recording, and it had eased some of his concerns.
It also makes him miss her like hell.
"It's so funny - we all got our own secrets. I've got my orders, Bones got his medical discretion, you've got your admiral's business, and she's going to get covert actions non-orders. That pretty much evens it out for all of us."
Pike's mind conjures pleasurable daydreams in which he throttles Kirk - just a little, not too much - because he still doesn't like the whole assignment. Contrary to Jim Kirk, who shares Dael's opinion that it's a great chance and interesting adventure. Damn kids.
"Jim!" McCoy admonishes his husband.
"Sorry," Kirk says but doesn't manage to sound as if he means it.
"You might not be aware of it, but John wrote reports on me for a long time, friendship or not," Pike says coolly. "I managed to get my hands on two, and while they didn't include anything of private nature, I was cautious around him for years."
"Oh." His audience turns quiet and thoughtful.
"So you wonder if one day, Dael would do that too?" McCoy asks.
"I hope not but you can imagine that I didn't like her decision a lot."
"You never stated it so plainly," Kirk says somewhat surprised.
"I did to her." There's a pregnant pause before Pike adds, "Let's talk about something else."
"I've got a better idea," McCoy says and winks. "You're at home and we've got fifteen minutes left, so what if Jim and I get down to some sexy business? You get to say what we should do, Chris."
And so he enjoys a lovely, very arousing scene, directing the doc to tie up Jim and go down on him while jacking off, and they all manage to come just within their tiny timeframe, which is quite a feat.
"We kept going after you had to sign off," the message arrives five hours later, and they attach a vid with the scene with him and the one afterward, how the two men switched places and Jim chained the doc to the bed, fisting him slowly and carefully until the doc was begging for mercy.
"Think of Chris watching us, wanting to see you come so hard," Jim mutters on the tape, at last his hand on the doc's cock, and the doc looks at the cam and comes all over his chest with a sharp cry.
The vid becomes Pike's favorite lullaby.
*
Arissa invites him to her birthday party, and he gives it a try for half an hour before feeling absolutely in the wrong place with the mostly lesbian guests, leaving with some excuse.
Farnham seems to be back in the business and is off and away. Pike spends an evening with Eric, but without John, there's just something missing, so they part and go home to their own, lonely beds.
His two-week class at the academy is canceled for organizational reasons, so in search of non-sexual distraction, Pike ups the number of receptions to three a week. He truly enjoys the many interesting discussions with diplomats of Federation worlds regarding the future developments of the confederation. But then rumors about a new, powerful technology being incorporated into 'fleet ships are spreading, and suddenly every lightly spoken word across a buffet or over a glass of whine becomes a careful dance, in which extremely crafty men and women try to gather information from him about Starfleet plans. It's quite an intellectual challenge.
Asimov and he meet three times a week at his office and Pike makes sure that the door to his assistant's anteroom is open and the cam is running, keeping away from Asimov as far as possible. He knows that by now many people have the opinion he'd jump any young sexy officer of any gender, and it's not a misunderstanding Pike is really able to clear up.
His progress with Romulan is as slow as he expected. Whenever he thinks about giving up, though, he remembers how Dael's face had lit up whenever Jim had addressed her in Romulan, and how he'd dumbly sat next to them, not understanding a word. Next time, he'd know what they were talking about.
Next time, he'd be the one speaking Romulan with Dael.
So with more motivation than ever he slogs through word lists, grammar and exercises like some bull-headed maniac but he still often frustrates his excellent teacher.
"I told you I'm bad at this," Pike says compassionately one day when the lieutenant's suffering is palpable.
"I thought you were joking," Asimov admits. "Isn't there a rule -?"
"That captains have to speak alien languages? No, and I guess it would decimate our ranks if there were," Pike says amused. "I'm especially bad but only a few are really good."
Asimov scratches his head, and then decides not to comment on this. "Let's get back to the irregular verbs," he says instead, and Pike sighs a little.
*
Sometimes he sits at his office table and stops whatever he is doing to play with the ring. It always makes him smile and think of the day they bought them, then of many other days he's spent with Dael.
He starts to write messages that are never going to be sent, but that she could read after her return, maybe, a diary of his time without her so that she wouldn't miss anything important.
*
With the apartment much too silent on Thursday night, he thinks about calling Eric when a surprise chat is established from the Enterprise.
It's McCoy, slouched on his bed; he's obviously fresh out of a shower with his hair still wet and his naked chest glittering from droplets of water, one hand out of sight, probably cupping his package. He looks good enough to eat, and Pike automatically licks his lips.
"You up for a game?" his lover asks over the comm.
"Maybe?" Pike replies, both interested and cautious.
"Go to your nightstand, bottom drawer. There's something I left behind."
Pike walks out and follows the directions, not really surprised about what he finds there.
"You want me to wear the collar?" Pike asks when he's back in front of the cam, the shining metal band with the key in front of them on the table. "I've never been a big fan of that kind of long-distance game."
"So if I told you to put it on, you'd say no?" McCoy asks, unruffled.
Pike squares his shoulders. "I didn't say that."
The doc sits up and gives him a thoughtful look. "You can stop anytime. You know that."
"And you know that once I join the game, I'm unlikely to say no in the middle," Pike retorts.
"Yes. That's definitely part of the beauty."
Pike looks away from the screen. "Fuck you," he mutters.
"Next time." The doc smiles, a damn intense smile. "Put it on, Chris. Give me the wonderful illusion that I've got a say in anything you do for a few days."
Pike might've been able to resist the order but not the second sentence, longing and desire frosted with sadness and what-if's. His hand curls around the metal even as he shakes his head and wants to say that he's not ready for shit like this, that he'd always thought people participating in these kinds of games are stupid to succumb to the wishes of someone on the other end of a comm line.
But maybe it's not important that there's a line between them and thousands of light years; it's only important that it feels right and he's ready to make such a step.
His hands almost work on their own; only the click of the lock brings him back to the here and now.
"Damn, Chris…" McCoy rasps. "You fucking own me, do you know that?"
"Isn't that supposed to work the other way round?" Pike says, not quite trusting his voice.
"It always works both ways." McCoy leans forward, shifting the cam a little. He's completely naked, and as reckoned, one hand is cradling a strong erection. "Strip for me, Chris. Give me a show."
"If I had known what I was signing sign up for…" Pike complains playfully as he gets up and very slowly pulls his black tee over his head. He runs his hands over his chest, presenting his best sides to the cam.
"Yeah, touch your nipples, rub them for me..." Under McCoy's ongoing orders, Pike puts on the demanded show, at last jerking off for him.
When he's done, he's boneless on his chair, his hands full of come. On the screen, McCoy is back to the slouched position, eyes half-closed with similar white droplets covering his chest.
"I'll send you a list of rules," the doc says.
"Hmm-hmm." Pike makes a lazy sound, too exhausted to complain about being given the rules after the start of the game.
What would be the fun if he knew them all beforehand?
*
You're in a meeting? the doc writes.
Yes, Pike messages back. Bored to death. Friday is my least favorite day.
They've got a delay of twenty-three minutes caused by the Enterprise' distance to Earth, but for the game, it works better than Pike would have expected.
Anyone in the room you'd like to have sex with? I bet there is. Tell me about the person.
One rule of the game is that Pike has agreed to answer every damn question truthfully. He eyes the round and wishes he hadn't promised it because now he'd have to consider that he's kind of interested in one member of his task force, the one of which he absolutely has to keep his hands off.
Fine. You want me to vent my currently darkest secret, so here it is. I've got that spy in my team who's young and bright. I've never been with anyone of his species, but I had a few hot fantasies of meeting him in my club by chance, on one of his trips to the dark corners of the human soul, and that he'd beg me to teach him more about human sexuality.
Pike wishes this was an exaggeration, but he had engaged in certain daydreams over Thelin lately and this could only mean he badly needed to join John and Eric for a round of sex. He's a little annoyed with himself for obviously needing gay sex like breathing but hell, it's all his men's fault.
You're underfucked, the doc writes back.
Guess why, Pike sends. Miss your dick up my ass.
The answer takes a while, and the meeting is almost over when it comes in.
Scotty spilled orange juice all over me and then managed to get a glimpse on your last message while cleaning up. Don't think he saw who the sender was but it was close.
Pike shakes his head. Thank you for protecting my reputation, that's
"Admiral, what's your opinion?" Esteban asks and Pike looks up, having not the faintest clue what's been said within the last few minutes.
"Apologies, gentlemen, my concentration is a little off," he says smoothly, inwardly annoyed that he needs to use his presumed disability as cover when his brain works more than well at the moment. "What was the question?"
"I think we should decide whether the new shield configurations can undergo an integration test in two weeks," Esteban says.
Thelin raises his hands. "I agree with the admiral that my concentration fails. I would suggest we shift the topic to our next meeting on Monday."
The round mostly agrees and the meeting ends. Esteban leaves with more than a little annoyance in his step, while Thelin is the last to remain with Pike. The Andorian stands, hands on an empty chair's back.
Pike leans back with a sigh, about to open the top buttons of his uniform before remembering the metal collar beneath which might be visible through the shirt. He yanks his hand away. "Lieutenant - while I appreciate your support, there is no need to make a fellow, higher-ranking officer look bad. I suggest you avoid such actions in the future."
"By Andorian standards, prolonging a meeting when the leader is obviously occupied otherwise makes an officer look bad."
Pike rubs his chin. "Interesting view point. Unfortunately, Captain Esteban didn't see it like that."
Thelin's antennae center on Pike. "He doesn't like you," the Andorian diagnoses calmly.
"He doesn't like my private life choices," Pike corrects him. "That has nothing to do with our professional understanding." Or at least, it shouldn't.
Thelin's grip on the chair tightens. "By Andorian standards, this would be unacceptable," the young man says. "If it were my team, I would have removed him already." He nods sharply, then walks out.
Pike put his elbows on table, heavily resting his head in his hands. He should feel good about Thelin obviously being on his side, but he doesn't.
You just fucked up my team some more, damnit, he sends out. He's not surprised when McCoy isn't the least remorseful.
You manage that all by yourself, Admiral.
*
It's late on Saturday night, and Pike for once looks left and right before entering the Joy Club. It's one of the more sleazy gay bars, with a shady reputation - although he'd gotten to know its owner, Till Alicanta, over the meetings for the Rainbow Ball and the man had left a good impression with him. Pike still wouldn't choose this bar ordinarily, but it's the one with an old-fashioned glory hole, the easiest way to fulfill his assignment for tonight:
Get your dick sucked by someone anonymous, and think of me. And if anyone offers more, go for it.
Admittedly, he could've also just gone to another club with a dark room, but it's been a while since he'd done something that felt this dirty, and he wants to enjoy this trip down memory lane. The glory hole room is rather dark and small, just space enough for two people per side, with the separated entries so far apart in the club that it's quite impossible to find out who the participants on the other side are.
Standing in front of that wall, his dick doesn't need much encouragement to rise to full glory. He takes out a condom, rolling it over its length, then leans forward and inserts his erection into one of the holes at an appropriate height.
The waiting that usually follows is the strangest thing; listening to footsteps drawing close, passing by or stopping; the slight sound of shoes scraping over the floor, clothes shifting or zippers being pulled… or just listening to white noise, which is the most common event.
Pike leans against the wall with one bent arm and keeps gently rubbing the base of his dick. His thoughts stray to the doc, and he imagines him standing behind him, ready to watch him getting sucked dry by a stranger. He's quite deep in fantasy land when a sound startles him, and he peeks over his shoulder to find another man coming in. It's so dark he barely sees a thing, but the man seems to look at him, checking out the situation. Pike turns his head back to the wall, looking down to his own dick in a gesture of come in, I don't care.
After a hesitant pause, the man draws closer, but his next moves are drowned in the sudden activity on the other side of Pike's hole, a hand capturing his latex-covered member in a tentative first stroke. The touch feels good, and Pike encouragingly cants his hips forward to poke more of his dick through the wall opening. Fingers close around his base, and seconds later, his member is embedded in the warm, slick heat of someone's mouth. It feels damn hot, and he enjoys the other one's work for a moment before thrusting in and out a little, testing the waters for a mouth fuck. As his glans hits the bottom of the man's mouth, Pike groans; the guy on the other side is definitely not new to deep-throating, and so he pushes forward again, riding the other one's face.
He startles as fingers brush over the strip of naked skin at the top of his lowered pants.
"Wanna get more?" the man that arrived a while ago whispers, rubbing along his crack in an unambiguous gesture. Pike isn't completely comfortable with the idea, and the man picks up on it, adding, "I'm playing safe. You can check." There's something brushing along his thigh, and Pike reaches down to feel a hard erection sheathed in a condom.
If anyone offers more, go for it.
"Okay," Pike rasps, voice low.
It's all the encouragement the man needs to pulls his pants further down, and Pike is torn between pushing deep into the hole and arching back against the fingers that search his anal entry now, slicking him up. It becomes quite a dance, and he's already half-gone from the stimulation when he's pinned against the wall from behind, pierced deeply by a rather large dick. Between the double impact of fucking and getting fucked, his mind full of real memories and wild fantasies of his men doing this to him, he's riding an incredible high until he feels the climax approaching, the pull in his balls, the coiling tension in his body right before orgasm… and then it breaks and it's as fantastic as the foreplay suggested, waves crushing through him as he spasms and shakes, uselessly searching for a hold on the wall but being held steadily from behind as his legs almost give in.
When he finds his breath again, the other man has already pulled out, and he feels strangely empty. But then the man takes his hand, directing it to the still hard dick, and Pike doesn't think twice before he gets down on his knees to suck him off, giving him a great ride for the short time the guy lasts, in the end rather sorry that the load lands in the condom's head and not deep in his throat. The man's hands on his head are strong but careful, caressingly brushing through his hair in the aftermath. They finally break apart, adjusting their clothes.
"Meet outside at the bar?" the man says quietly.
"Maybe," Pike says. The man nods and leaves.
When Pike walks out, rather cautious of being seen, he makes a much-needed detour to the restroom before peeking into the bar. It's rather empty, and he scans the handful of guests. The man had worn a long jacket with buttons, and there's only one person with that outfit, animatedly talking to a second man. Pike eyes their faces, which look somehow familiar. His suspicion is confirmed when they change position so that one of the small lights illuminates their features. They're both in Starfleet, even working a few floors beneath Pike's. For a second, Pike is still compelled to walk in and talk to them; but then he decides that he really doesn't need any further complications in his love life, and walks in the other direction. There's no visible second exit, so he knocks at the door with the label private. As hoped, the owner Till Alicanta opens.
"Good evening, Till," Pike says. "Don't want to interrupt you, but does your club have a back door where you could let me out?"
"Hello, Chris," the man says, instantly concerned. "Any trouble in the club?"
"No, just a great anonymous encounter which I want to keep that way."
"Ah, and the guy is waiting for you now," Alicanta says with an understanding grin.
"I didn't say no to the suggestion but it wouldn't fit at all."
Alicanta nods and shows him out of a hidden door. "At least it sounds like you had a great evening," he says with a twinkle.
"Yes, thanks. Might come back another day." Pike walks out into a small court that leads into the streets, the cool rain on his face a somehow fitting end of the scene.
There's a message on his PADD when he gets home, Tell me everything, and he sits down to record a voice message.
*
Onto Part 5