Star What
Title: Dualities
Word Count: 6,158
Pairing: Han Solo/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Mansexin', cursing, the force grows weaker, unbeta'd
Summary: Very loosely written for this prompt.
Notes: I LOVED writing this.
Leonard wasn’t sure what had happened. He wasn’t ever sure what happened when things went wrong, usually, and this time wasn’t any different. He was supposed to be just beaming down to a Starfleet space station on shore leave. It was their first in about two months of straight, unforgiving space with little respite in between. He had really, really been looking forward to the time off. That should have been his first warning.
It was just his luck that instead of landing on his feet in a posh Starfleet station he landed, instead, flat on his ass in sand. He coughed and spluttered, looking around wildly at the desert expanse that stretched around him. McCoy stared wide-eyed into the distance; piercing endless blue meeting unforgiving orange surrounded him on all sides.
“This is fucking bullshit,” he surmised, carefully standing up because it wasn’t bad enough that he had ended up in the desert, but he had to end up on top of a fucking dune. It was hot, of course, it was hot, and the sun-suns! Leonard balked-were searing his skin.
He sighed, glad that Starfleet offered extreme environment survival classes and began ripping the hem of his undershirt off. First he needed to find civilization, if there was civilization, and then he needed to get some water. Carefully tying the black fabric around his head, Bones started on his way to getting home (hopefully).
By his estimation, hardly anything worthwhile since there were three suns to try and track, it was four hours later before Leonard found anything resembling civilization. A large, somewhat dilapidated looking city met his gaze after he had clambered up a particularly tall dune. The relief that flooded through him was almost painful it was so intense and he tried not to trip in his hurry down the dune to reach it.
Surprisingly enough, there were a few humans he spotted when he stumbled into the streets of the city. Nobody seemed particularly friendly though and the looks he received were far from welcoming. No one was willing to help the poor guy who'd just been stranded in the desert that was much was obvious. He sighed, leaning carefully against what appeared like an abandoned building and tried to catch his breath. His luck, it seemed, was only getting worse and worse.
“Hey, buddy,” called a smug voice from somewhere next to him. Leonard looked up and down the alley next to him, in it stood a tall rather dashing looking young man about Jim’s age. He too was leaning against the building, hand stuck loosely in the pocket of his tight black pants. “You new here or something?”
“Unfortunately,” Leonard drawled, giving the man his driest look. “Somehow I ended up on my ass in the middle of the desert.” The doctor didn’t give the man anymore than that. This city seemed shady already and anyone, despite how friendly they pretended to be, could be harboring ill intent.
“That bad, huh?” The man looked sympathetic, pushing himself off the wall and reaching down to unhook a canteen off his belt. “Thirsty?” he asked and tossed the bottle to McCoy.
Leo caught the canteen easily, pleased that the heat hadn’t gotten to him that bad and twisted the cap off. Tentatively, he sniffed the contents and earned a chuckle from his “savior.”
“Don’t worry,” the man drawled, closing the distance between them, and smirking. “I’m not the type to give a thirsty man poisoned water.”
Giving him one last appraising look, McCoy shrugged and took a long swig from the canteen. The water was cool and refreshing as it slid down his throat and he did nothing to repress the sound of satisfaction as he pulled the bottle from his lips. “Thank you,” he said, handing the canteen back. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to get in contact with someone in space, would you?”
The man was considering him carefully now, brows furrowed together as he frowned slightly and his long fingers deftly twisted the cap back onto the canteen. “I might…” he replied, putting the canteen back and holding out a hand. “The name’s Han Solo, it’s a pleasure.”
Leonard took Han’s hand and shook it firmly. “Doctor Leonard McCoy,” he replied, quirking a small smile.
“A doctor, huh?” Han said, smirking again. He waved a hand for Leonard to follow. “Well, c’mon, Doc, not gonna get your call to space standin’ around in the slums.”
The rest of the city seemed exactly the same as the area Bones had started in, which he was sure Han had called the “slums.” Maybe Leonard was missing the subtle qualities of the rest of the city or the entire place was just a shit hole. He was beginning to suspect the latter.
“So, where ya from?” Han asked, falling in step next to Leo. The way he quirked his eyebrow could only be described as jaunty. Leo was getting an unsettling feeling of being reminded of someone in his stomach.
“Earth, originally,” McCoy replied, pushing the shirt off his head as it seemed to be a little cooler in the city with all the shade. Not to mention he was starting to feel foolish. He didn’t bother fixing his hair aware it was already a lost cause.
“Never heard of it,” Han said, looking a little disconcerted at the prospect. McCoy was feeling even more off kilter, he’d met a human that wasn’t from Earth? “Well, this planet is Tatooine and this city is her worst, Mos Eisley.” Han’s easy smirk was back and he sent it with a casual toss of his head in Bones’ direction. “I’ve been here plenty of times, but I’ve never met anyone who didn’t “accidentally” end up stranded on this place.”
Leonard narrowed his eyes and snapped a look at Hans, mouth pulling back in a grimace. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he growled.
Han chuckled, shaking his head and holding up a hand to pacify McCoy. “Look, buddy,” he continued. “I mean no offense, really I do. But whoever “accidentally” sent you here actually meant to leave you here, is all I’m sayin.’”
Well, Bones knew that wasn’t true. Especially since he was pretty sure he’d never crossed Scotty in any other way than giving him one or two extra shots from the hypo that he may or may not have needed during a physical. That wasn’t enough to warrant sending the CMO to an uncharted hostile desert planet, McCoy was sure.
“I don’t think so,” Leonard said, looking away from Han. “It was a transporter malfunction, they happen all the time.”
“If you insist,” the tall man said, shrugging his shoulders and sounding as if Leonard was a lost cause. “But I doubt they’ll answer when you send out your plea for help. Those guys are all the way to Hoth by this time.”
Bones sent a glare in Han’s direction but didn’t mention it anymore. They continued in silence, moving through the city without any further interruption. McCoy was distracted now anyway. All around them, at random intervals, space ships of all kinds were taking off without any apparent regulation. Not to mention half of them looked like they were more prepared to fall apart rather than travel through space. What kind of place was this Tatooine?
“Here we are,” Han said apparently having stopped and he caught Leonard’s arm in a firm grip to keep him from walking off. Leonard stopped dead, turning to look at Han and pull his arm from the man’s grasp, eyes narrowing in warning. He didn’t trust the man that much. “Hey, easy there Doc, just getting your attention.” Han didn’t wait any longer and turned down the alley he was apparently referring to.
McCoy had began to wonder why he had decided to follow a man who apparently lived in an alley when he saw it, the large ship that was docked in the plaza the alley ended in. This ship was in far better condition than any ship Leonard had yet to see take off and yet it was still on the small size, a flat circular design didn’t leave much room for a crew. Leonard frowned at it, crossing his arms and stopping at the end of the alley to stare at Han.
“This is it?”
Han stopped, shoulders going stiff and he turned sharply to give Leo a warning look. “Excuse me?” he asked slowly.
One to understand when he was treading on the soft paunch of a man’s ego, Leonard carefully considered his words. “I’m just not used to ships of this…size,” he finished lamely, posturing for anything Han decided to start.
The man wrinkled his nose and looked insulted, gesturing with the sharp jerk of his hand at the ship. “This is my baby,” Han’s snapped. “The Millennium Falcon. You better show some
respect.”
McCoy held up his hands in the universal salute of surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” he sighed, wondering how he had failed to peg Han as the type to hold things like space ships on pedestals.
“What kind of big ships are you talking about anyway?” Han asked, crossing his arms now and dropping his head to the side as if to reconsider Leonard. “The biggest ships I know are the Empire’s ships, and those behemoths aren’t good for anything but getting blown up.”
“I don’t know anything about this Empire,” Leonard snapped, a strange surge of pride swelling in his chest. “But the ship I’m from is about ten times to yours and the equipped with the best technology has to offer. It isn’t getting blown up any time soon.”
Han looked like he was ready for some more macho pissing over the size of ships when suddenly, from the Falcon, a large very furry man came lumbering down from the hatch. McCoy couldn’t help it; he stared in surprise at the creature who was something like the cross between a dog and a sasquatch. Han noticed this and turned, spotting the creature and grinning.
“Hey, Chewy,” he greeted, walking over to share some words with the…interesting alien. What was most interesting, the doctor was sure, was the alien’s vocal communication. It was some odd, throaty groan that Han seemed to actually understand. Leonard had thought himself rather tolerant of learning of a new race but there was something about this alien that left the doctor feeling weary. It might have been the obvious hostile way his presence was being treated by ‘Chewy.’
Carefully, Leonard made his way over when he was sure that the two were done speaking privately to each other about him. “I don’t want to bother you any longer,” he said, frowning deeply and glaring at Han. He wasn’t too sure if it was a good idea to look the tall, furry man in the eyes anyway. “So if I could just make my call…?”
“I suppose,” Han replied shushing Chewy’s gurgling yodel of protest. “Hey, come on, I told ya his buddies left him stranded here! How would you like to get stranded here? Especially dressed like that.” Han gestured to Bones’ blues and he bit his lip, carefully telling himself that wherever they were Starfleet was a nonevent to them.
“Yes,” Leonard said, carefully looking up at Chewy and doing his best to seem as if he wasn’t intimidated. “All I need to do is make a call, and I’ll be out of your hair-uh, business.” McCoy tried not to face palm, smooth recovery there, slim.
No one seemed to notice his slip up, though, and Chewy seemed to acquiesce. Han gave Chewy another grin and clapped the, uh, man on the shoulder. “Alright, Doc, let’s head up,” he said moving up the ramp that lead into the hatch. Chewy, thankfully, chose not to follow. Catching Bones’ grateful look back, Han smirked at him. “What, never seen a Wookie before?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” Leonard said, turning his attention to the interior of the ship. It was just as small inside as it was outside. About as big as sick bay’s main room and then maybe a little bit more if there was a room Leonard hadn’t seen yet. The one they were in looked like a common room, a couch and places to sit along with a small kitchen made the scene. It was cluttered with a number of different things from clothing, to guns and boxes.
“This is the common room, where we sleep and eat,” the man said in passing, waving his hand dismissively at the room.
Leonard turned to look at Han, quirking an eyebrow. “Your whole crew fits in here to sleep?” he asked incredulously.
Han chuckled, giving Leonard an amused look. “Doc, it’s just me and Chewbacca,” he said, as if it were obvious.
“That’s it?” Bones said in disbelief, looking back around the ship. From where he was from, one-man ships were practically microscopic. Two man ships definitely weren’t this big though.
“Yeah?” now Han was in disbelief. “What more do you need?”
“What about a crew?” Leonard supplied, leaning his head towards Han.
“I’m the Captain and Chewy is my first officer,” the dark blond man said, sounding a little insulted again. “What more do you need?”
McCoy bit his lip on that reply, knowing that further chauvinism was just going to get him booted on his ass. “Sure, I guess,” he said instead, looking back around. “Can I make a call here?”
He was getting that reconsidering look again from Han, but the man cleared it away when he was caught this time. “No, we make it in the cockpit,” he said, turning to head that way.
The use of the term cockpit had already turned McCoy’s mind for a loop but the actual place itself made him even more insecure about the ship. It definitely wasn’t the Enterprise bridge, that was for sure. Han dropped into the pilot’s chair and started pushing multiple controls.
“Alright, you know the frequency or anything?” Han asked, turning in the chair to look at Leonard.
“No.”
“’Course not,” the captain said under his breath as he turned back around and McCoy glared at the back of his head. He fiddled with more controls before handing a very crude headset to Leonard. “Alright, so this is just a general broadcast to the surrounding area. Make sure to mention the ship name, alright?”
Bones nodded and took the headset, looking it over before putting it on-stopping at Han’s amused input that it was backwards. He scowled and righted the headset and put it on.
“This is Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the USS Enterprise,” he began, putting on his best ‘I am in control of the situation’ voice. “Through a transporter malfunction I have been stranded on the planet Tatooine. Immediate recovery is appreciated.” He thought that was rather appropriate and Uhura would undoubtedly understand it well enough, so he took off the headset and handed it back.
“Well done, Doc,” Han said, placing the headset aside. “I’ve got it encrypted but I’m sure your buddies are looking for you. So, they’ll find it through the keywords you mentioned, I put them in the code.” The tall pilot stood, turning around and grinning at McCoy. The doctor swallowed, noticing they were rather close now, in the small place of the cockpit.
Han leaned over, putting a hand on the wall behind Bones’ head, bringing them even closer. “You wanna hang out with me, while you wait?” the man asked, meeting McCoy’s eyes with an intensity that told him it was just a test and nothing more. “Wouldn’t do you any harm.”
Leonard carefully resisted the urge to swallow or show any other involuntary signs of weakness. “Sure, why not,” he drawled, quirking an eyebrow.
Somehow, they ended up in a bar. The bar was full mostly with aliens, all varieties that McCoy had never seen before. They were the only humans anywhere in sight and it was surprisingly unsettling. The doctor had been on his fair share of alien planets, but so had a good number of his crew with him, many of which were in sight of McCoy at the time. This was a new experience, especially since Han already seemed to alien himself.
However, Han was entirely human, of that Bones was sure. He was a doctor; he could recognize a human when he saw one. Humans were familiar and so was Han’s personality. He was similar to Jim, in many ways, but it was pretty obvious after a while that the two were very different in their core aspects. McCoy couldn’t be sure what Jim was driven by, but it certainly wasn’t what Han was driven by: money.
When they got to the bar, Han abandoned him at a booth in the back to talk to some of the other patrons. From what Leonard could overhear, it distinctly sounded like there were some big deals going down and Han was a main purveyor of all of them. The man handled them all with the ease of familiarity, a smooth talker to the core, but everyone still seemed distinctly unhappy that Han’s was going to get so much money.
McCoy tried not think about, however, that most of the deals were of a very illegal nature. Weapons, drugs and even-he couldn’t be sure, because they very careful on their wording for this one-people. He tried not to be unsettled by the fact he was making nice with a criminal, because he was well aware that all the other…gentlemen in the bar were criminals as well of a much more unforgiving nature. So when Han returned to their table, McCoy was sure to give the man a small smile.
Han returned it in fold, setting a drink down in front of him and settling in the odd booth seat across from Leonard. “Sorry for ditching ya,” the captain said, leaning on the table with his elbows. “Had some business to maintain.”
“I noticed,” Leonard said, shrugging his shoulder and carefully sipping the drink Han’s gave him. It was definitely alcoholic and definitely refreshing, if a little too fruity for Leonard’s usual tastes. Bones had been well aware, all day, how much he could have gone for a drink. “Don’t let me hold you back.”
The man looked ready to reply with his own witty retort when his expression did a strange stutter. It went from being open to carefully feigned openness. He leaned back in a seemingly defenseless sprawl and grinned too toothily at the strange alien that walked up. McCoy was getting very good at not staring.
“Han,” the alien hissed, its strange lizard like head twitching unsettlingly as it stared at Han. “Heard something interesting over the radio earlier, better watch your back.”
Bones went still at the strange warning, sending a quick questioning glance at Han. His gaze was met with the exact opposite look he had been hoping to see: worry. The alien wandered off and Han stood up with barely contained haste.
“C’mon, Doc,” he said carefully under his breath, glancing around. “We better make ourselves scarce.”
This was going to end badly, McCoy could feel it. They left the bar, heading in the complete opposite direction that they came and at a much faster pace. The heat was especially unbearable, the sky a deep red colour. Bones suspected that the suns were setting but he had no idea why that was making it hotter. Everything on Tatooine continued to be backward to what Leonard was normally familiar with.
Either way, the heat was slowing McCoy down, sweat dripping off his forehead and making itself a nuisance down the slope of his nose. He wiped it away, pushing himself harder to catch up with Han. Suddenly, they burst from an alley onto an empty street.
The brunet captain cursed explosively and ducked around, grabbing Bones’ by the waist and pushing him to the ground. A loud pop rang out behind them, from where the missed shot met sand. Han landed half on top of Leonard and rolled away quickly, scrambling with little grace to hide behind the convenient stack of boxes they’d landed behind. McCoy sat up and scooted on his ass backwards until his back met the hard, safe surface of the boxes.
“Keep your head down,” Han advised needlessly, barely sparing the doctor a glance. He had a strange looking pistol pulled out from nowhere and was carefully peeking around the side of the box to find their attacker. He jerked back and crashed into McCoy as another loud pop landed very close to them.
McCoy sputtered sand from his mouth and pushed Solo off of him carefully. “Jesus,” he breathed pulling his hand back. “I’m a doctor, not a cowboy!” Han turned to give him a sarcastic smirk, blood flowing freely from where the shot had grazed his forehead.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” the man snapped, turning back around and readying his pistol, gripping it tight in both hands. Another shot zipped past them and unsettled more sand, then Han with surprising speed rose the gun around the corner and pulled the trigger.
The noise that Han’s gun made would have earned a sarcastic comment from Bones if it hadn’t been followed by a telltale thump. Han sprung up grinning wide, his white teeth causing an interesting contrast to the red sand that was coating much of his face, and turned to look down at Bones.
“Got ‘em,” he said, smug, and held out a hand to help McCoy up from his place on the ground. Their hands smacked together and Han’s pulled him up with a strong jerk. McCoy stood up, barely maintaining his balance so that they didn’t crash into each other again. He looked up and they were close again, two sandy panting men.
Han smirked and McCoy ignored the invitation he knew it held. “Aren’t you gonna check who the fuck it was shooting at you?” he asked, keeping his expression carefully dry.
If Han was disappointed at the rejection, he didn’t show it. He shrugged and turned around, swaggering over to the small face down body a few feet away. Without much fanfare, he kicked the body over and studied the face. McCoy made his way over, wondering if perhaps he knew this species of alien. “No idea who it is,” Solo announced, looking back over at McCoy. “I’ll-“
Suddenly, the small body jerked up, a knife glinting in it’s hand and Leonard acted fast, grabbing a handful of the cocky bastard’s vest and pulling him forward just in time. The assassin’s dagger met sand and Han quickly whirled around to shoot the alien dead in the head. The body slumped over again and silence reigned in the empty street once again.
“Goddamn,” Leo breathed, staring wide-eyed at the alien. “You guys don’t fuck around on this planet, do you?”
Han laughed, as if he hadn’t almost been stabbed in the knee, and clapped McCoy on the shoulder. “You’re getting the idea,” he said and Leo couldn’t help but feeling like he’d won something.
There wasn’t much to be done with the body now that it didn’t have a face and they split, Han warning that worse trouble would be on the way if they lingered. After a long, convoluted “scenic route” back to the Falcon, McCoy was exhausted. The suns had finally set, submerging the planet into an icy, inky night that had griped at his very bones. When they started down the familiar alley, he couldn’t help the moan of relief that escaped his mouth.
Han tossed a grin over his shoulder at Leonard and he caught an eyeful of the head injury from earlier. He frowned, vowing to look at it when they were in the safety of the ship. Chewy was nowhere in sight when they made it to the center of the plaza but Han didn’t seem to think anything of it, so Bones didn’t mention it.
They sent one careful searching look around, Han pulling a small odd flashlight from a pocket on his belt and skittering around the darkened area. After deciding they were safe, they headed up into the Falcon, Solo closing the door pointedly behind them this time.
“Alright,” Leonard announced, dropping a hand onto Han’s arm. “Let me have a look at that head wound.”
Solo smiled, wide and easy, and headed over to the small couch against the far left wall. He dropped bonelessly onto the cushions, stretching all his long limbs about him carelessly, and looked expectantly at Leonard. If the doctor was to be intimidated by this, it didn’t work. He was intent on doing his Job, which was taking care of injuries on handsome devil-may-care captains or not.
Leonard settled on his knees next to Han, leaning over him to look at the wound. He took the man’s head in both hands, turning it this way and that in the light to get a good look at the wound. It was similar to a burn, confirming McCoy’s suspicions that projectile weapons weren’t in fashion, and it spanned from just a little beyond Han’s hairline to just above his eyebrow.
It wasn’t so bad, bleeding as much as it did because it was a head wound. He looked down and was surprised to see Han’s intense brown eyes watching him. “Do you have something I can clean this with?” he asked, wondering why his mouth was dry.
“I’m sure I do somewhere,” Han replied, obviously uninspired to show McCoy where. A warm large hand settled on his waist, brushing over the skin no longer protected by his undershirt.
“This will get infected, if you don’t clean it,” Leonard said, but he had forgotten his original reason as to why when Han’s thumb brushed across his abdomen. He carefully did not shudder under the touch and leveled Han with a warning glare.
Han didn’t seem to care about any of the warning in Bones’ gaze and suddenly pulled him off balance and into Han’s lap. Leonard growled, struggling against the arm now around his waist. He wasn’t making much of an impression to escape, as Han’s grip held true.
“Don’t worry about it, Doc,” Solo said, smug as ever when Leonard gave up his struggle. He gripped the doctor’s shoulder and pulled the man further against him. Suddenly, their lips met angry and hot. Leonard wasn’t sure who kissed whom, but he was willing to admit that they met in the middle.
They kissed with their teeth clicking and tongues clashing. Han tasted of salt, solder and the drinks from earlier. Leonard pressed his hands into Han’s hair, settling his knees around the other man’s waist and pressing himself flush against him. Han’s hand griped his hip hard, fingers digging into the flesh, and bit down on Bones’ lip.
Breaking apart, they panted, breath mingling hot between them and eyes searing into each other. Han grunted, smirking again and manhandled Leonard again, pulling him off his lap and pressing him against the couch. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Doc,” Han breathed, catching Leonard’s wrists and pressing them hard into the cushion above his head. “Didn’t think I’d get to put it in you, either.”
Leonard groaned, half in pleasure and half in agony. Han already reminded him dangerously of Jim enough, why did the man have to keep making the match worse and worse? Han interrupted the groan in his favor, thankfully, because they were kissing again and there was an insistent leg pressing up between his legs.
His shirt was pushed up around his nipples both of which got ample attention from Han’s mouth and fingers. Leonard grunted and struggled against Han’s hands, intent on causing his own torture to the captain’s grip held true though and the bite of his fingers into Leo’s wrist only made him hotter. Han smirked and tugged on the clasp of Leo’s pants.
“You waiting for a written invitation?” Bones snapped, struggling against Han’s hands again.
Han laughed, suddenly letting Leo’s hands go. “I don’t-“ he began and suddenly they were crashing into each other again as Leo pulled their head forcefully together. Teeth clicked again and Leo grabbed a hold of the bottom of Han’s shirt, breaking away from the kiss and smoothly pulling the shirt off him.
The rest of their clothing was soon to follow. Pants, boots and shirts flew carelessly away and each piece of naked skin left from their absence met searching fingers or a hot mouth.
They kissed, bit and rutted against each other, groaning at the change in the experience now that they were both naked. Han’s pulled away suddenly, sitting up on his knees and supporting himself with a hand on the back of the couch to steady himself. Beneath him, a very irritated doctor was sprawled his hands hovering in the air, empty from the flesh of his back they had been digging into. It was a damn beautiful sight, Han was sure.
“Hold on,” Han groaned, hooking a hand under one of Leo’s legs and spreading it out to express his intent. Leo’s eyes blazed, his chest heaving, and he nodded. Nodding back, Han carefully pushed himself up and off of the man, stumbling over to a supply cabinet on the opposite wall. He pulled the door violently open, carelessly pushing things aside to find the familiar bottle of lube and grabbed it.
He heard a moan from behind him and swirled around, eyes going wide as he watched Leo wrap his hand around his dick, pulling on it slowly.
“Solo,” McCoy hissed, arching his back a little as his thumb brushed over the head of his dick.
Han didn’t need any more invitation than that and he hurried back over to the couch, dropping back down into his previous position. He grabbed Leo’s knee again and groaned when Leo propped up his other leg on the back of the couch. Hands grabbed the bottle of lube from him, for which he was grateful, and squirted a generous amount onto his hand. Before he could do anything about this, one of the hands gripped his wrist tightly. He looked up into McCoy’s scowl.
“You better not,” Leo panted, “have any damn diseases.”
“Relax,” Han soothed, pulling his hand free from Leo’s grip. “It’s a special lube, protection.”
McCoy inspected the bottle while Han finally was allowed to stick his hand where he’d been intending to for a while. Leo’s hole was unresisting and, after circling it teasingly a few times, he pushed his finger inside. Leo was warm and tight, and Han groaned at the sensation of the muscle gripping his finger, pushing the digit in deeper. Soon enough, after some careful stretching, Han could push another finger in.
The doctor seemed content to thrust on just the fingers, hand gripping the cushion above his hand as he pressed his face into the skin of his bicep. Han helpfully moved his fingers in time with McCoy’s hips, wiggling his fingers around until he hit---Leo suddenly arched, gasping and his eyes flying wide open and Han smirked---the prostate.
“Fuck!” McCoy spat, reaching a hand up to tangle in Han’s hair. “I’m ready, goddamnit, just fuck me already.” The captain was all too ready to comply. He pulled his fingers free and reached for the lube again, sitting atop Leo’s chest.
Leonard had other intents in mind as his hand reached the lube first. He pushed up on one elbow, squirting the liquid into this hand and then reaching down to grip Han tightly. The doctor’s hand was warm and sure as he thoroughly spread the lube on Han’s dick before falling away to grip at the couch cushion again.
Han groaned, carefully finding a position he could work with and hooking his elbows under Leo’s knees. They both groaned as he thrust inside in one, smooth movement. Bones’ head fell back against the couch as his back arched. Time seemed to hover, still and burning between them before McCoy pressed his hips harder into Han’s. It was all movement after that, Han’s hips working hard and quick as he moved in and out of the doctor.
Their mouths met again as Leo wrapped his legs tight around Han’s waist and pulled him down, hands gripping hard at his back as they fucked. With a shift the angle changed and Bones was gasping out with each deep thrust. Han smirked, grunting as the muscles tightened around him, and moved his hand between them grabbing McCoy’s dick and pulling.
It didn’t take much more of this, as Han continued to thrust into his prostate and stroke his dick, before McCoy came. He grunted and gasped, spilling between them and all over Han’s hand. Han gave a few valiant more thrusts, groaning at the muscles spasming about his dick, before he came too, pressing his face into Bones’ neck.
Carefully they pulled away from each other, both making soft noises as Han pulled out. Leonard carefully pulled himself up onto his elbows and looked up at Han. He actually almost couldn’t believe that they’d actually just had sex. Han stared back, expression a mixture of smug and satisfied.
The captain stood, a little shakily much to McCoy’s smug satisfaction, and looked down at the doctor. “I’ll get us a drink and something to clean up with,” he said, running a hand through Leo’s hair as he passed. McCoy collapsed back into the couch and stared up at the ceiling. He wondered what exactly about Han had made him decide it was a good idea for them to have sex. Actually, Leo winced, he would actually rather not know.
Soon, though, Han came and rescued him from his thoughts. His handsome head popped into McCoy’s line of sight, blocking out the black ceiling above, his smile wide. “You alright?” he drawled, dropping a wet cloth onto Bones’ stomach with a splat.
Leo sat up all the way and began carefully cleaning himself off. “Just peachy,” he answered, looking up at Han with a small smile. “Definitely sore.”
Han smirked, sitting down on a box beside the couch and taking a swig out of a funny looking bottle. “You know, sometimes I even amaze myself,” he said, smug as ever. Leo let himself admit then to himself, just briefly, that he didn’t mind how much Han reminded him of Jim.
“You know,” Bones replied in the same tone, balling up the cloth and hitting Han in the stomach with it. “I’d really rather prefer sleeping on a bed tonight.”
“That,” Han said, standing up and handing Leo the bottle. “Can be arranged if you get up.”
Grumbling only a little, McCoy pulled himself to his feet and very much didn’t wince. He very much didn’t wince just as much as he very much didn’t jump when Han slapped his ass as he passed him. Leo growled in reply and carefully took a drink from the bottle. It was some strange tangy alcohol but, besides the tangy part, wasn’t too bad. He took another swig and turned around and watched as Han turned the couch into a bed. Once it was complete, Han made a grand gesture with his arms to offer it to Leo.
Leo flipped him off and fell face first into the bed, sighing, as it was very comfortable for having formerly been half inside a wall. The bed tumbled with movement as Han climbed on beside him, stretching out his lean body alongside McCoy. It was the last thing he remembered from that night.
What awoke him was the familiar strange sound that Chewy made. He sounded rather angry and Han’s familiar voice was trying to calm him, judging by the soothing quality it had taken on. Leo shifted and groaned, slowly becoming aware of the world and the fact he was very naked and had very much been fucked by Han Solo last night. He seized into motion, sitting up and pulling the covers around him to shield his nakedness from the furry alien.
He was too late, however, and the half-naked Han was waving at Chewy’s back as he went down the hatch. Han caught sight of Leo’s ungraceful shame and smirked, shaking his head.
“Don’t worry,” the tall man said easily, dropping McCoy’s pile of clothes onto the bed beside him. “Chewy didn’t see nothin’ Chewy didn’t want to see.” And with those cryptic words, he disappeared into the cockpit.
Carefully, Bones got dressed, setting his uniform as correctly and neatly as he could manage. He couldn’t tell if it was a success or not since Han’s Falcon had a distinct lack of mirrors. He sighed, looking down at his wrinkled Starfleet logo and frowning. A weird jolt stuttered through his insides and when he looked up, he was on the Enterprise.
“Bones!” Jim exclaimed, looking relieved from where he stood just down the steps from the transporter pads. Bones gaped at him, looked around at the crowd of familiar faces and then back at Jim.
Doctor McCoy shut his mouth with an audible snap and straightened his shoulders, glaring at Scotty from where he stood behind the transporter controls. “You’d better have a good fucking explanation for this or you’re gonna wish you’d never gotten me back,” he grouched and suddenly had an armful of Enterprise captain.
“Damnit, Bones,” Jim breathed, punching him in the shoulder as he pulled away. “You smell terrible and you’re covered in sand.”
Bones shook his head and smiled tiredly. “That bad, huh?”
Word Count: 6,158
Pairing: Han Solo/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Mansexin', cursing, the force grows weaker, unbeta'd
Summary: Very loosely written for this prompt.
Notes: I LOVED writing this.
Leonard wasn’t sure what had happened. He wasn’t ever sure what happened when things went wrong, usually, and this time wasn’t any different. He was supposed to be just beaming down to a Starfleet space station on shore leave. It was their first in about two months of straight, unforgiving space with little respite in between. He had really, really been looking forward to the time off. That should have been his first warning.
It was just his luck that instead of landing on his feet in a posh Starfleet station he landed, instead, flat on his ass in sand. He coughed and spluttered, looking around wildly at the desert expanse that stretched around him. McCoy stared wide-eyed into the distance; piercing endless blue meeting unforgiving orange surrounded him on all sides.
“This is fucking bullshit,” he surmised, carefully standing up because it wasn’t bad enough that he had ended up in the desert, but he had to end up on top of a fucking dune. It was hot, of course, it was hot, and the sun-suns! Leonard balked-were searing his skin.
He sighed, glad that Starfleet offered extreme environment survival classes and began ripping the hem of his undershirt off. First he needed to find civilization, if there was civilization, and then he needed to get some water. Carefully tying the black fabric around his head, Bones started on his way to getting home (hopefully).
By his estimation, hardly anything worthwhile since there were three suns to try and track, it was four hours later before Leonard found anything resembling civilization. A large, somewhat dilapidated looking city met his gaze after he had clambered up a particularly tall dune. The relief that flooded through him was almost painful it was so intense and he tried not to trip in his hurry down the dune to reach it.
Surprisingly enough, there were a few humans he spotted when he stumbled into the streets of the city. Nobody seemed particularly friendly though and the looks he received were far from welcoming. No one was willing to help the poor guy who'd just been stranded in the desert that was much was obvious. He sighed, leaning carefully against what appeared like an abandoned building and tried to catch his breath. His luck, it seemed, was only getting worse and worse.
“Hey, buddy,” called a smug voice from somewhere next to him. Leonard looked up and down the alley next to him, in it stood a tall rather dashing looking young man about Jim’s age. He too was leaning against the building, hand stuck loosely in the pocket of his tight black pants. “You new here or something?”
“Unfortunately,” Leonard drawled, giving the man his driest look. “Somehow I ended up on my ass in the middle of the desert.” The doctor didn’t give the man anymore than that. This city seemed shady already and anyone, despite how friendly they pretended to be, could be harboring ill intent.
“That bad, huh?” The man looked sympathetic, pushing himself off the wall and reaching down to unhook a canteen off his belt. “Thirsty?” he asked and tossed the bottle to McCoy.
Leo caught the canteen easily, pleased that the heat hadn’t gotten to him that bad and twisted the cap off. Tentatively, he sniffed the contents and earned a chuckle from his “savior.”
“Don’t worry,” the man drawled, closing the distance between them, and smirking. “I’m not the type to give a thirsty man poisoned water.”
Giving him one last appraising look, McCoy shrugged and took a long swig from the canteen. The water was cool and refreshing as it slid down his throat and he did nothing to repress the sound of satisfaction as he pulled the bottle from his lips. “Thank you,” he said, handing the canteen back. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to get in contact with someone in space, would you?”
The man was considering him carefully now, brows furrowed together as he frowned slightly and his long fingers deftly twisted the cap back onto the canteen. “I might…” he replied, putting the canteen back and holding out a hand. “The name’s Han Solo, it’s a pleasure.”
Leonard took Han’s hand and shook it firmly. “Doctor Leonard McCoy,” he replied, quirking a small smile.
“A doctor, huh?” Han said, smirking again. He waved a hand for Leonard to follow. “Well, c’mon, Doc, not gonna get your call to space standin’ around in the slums.”
The rest of the city seemed exactly the same as the area Bones had started in, which he was sure Han had called the “slums.” Maybe Leonard was missing the subtle qualities of the rest of the city or the entire place was just a shit hole. He was beginning to suspect the latter.
“So, where ya from?” Han asked, falling in step next to Leo. The way he quirked his eyebrow could only be described as jaunty. Leo was getting an unsettling feeling of being reminded of someone in his stomach.
“Earth, originally,” McCoy replied, pushing the shirt off his head as it seemed to be a little cooler in the city with all the shade. Not to mention he was starting to feel foolish. He didn’t bother fixing his hair aware it was already a lost cause.
“Never heard of it,” Han said, looking a little disconcerted at the prospect. McCoy was feeling even more off kilter, he’d met a human that wasn’t from Earth? “Well, this planet is Tatooine and this city is her worst, Mos Eisley.” Han’s easy smirk was back and he sent it with a casual toss of his head in Bones’ direction. “I’ve been here plenty of times, but I’ve never met anyone who didn’t “accidentally” end up stranded on this place.”
Leonard narrowed his eyes and snapped a look at Hans, mouth pulling back in a grimace. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he growled.
Han chuckled, shaking his head and holding up a hand to pacify McCoy. “Look, buddy,” he continued. “I mean no offense, really I do. But whoever “accidentally” sent you here actually meant to leave you here, is all I’m sayin.’”
Well, Bones knew that wasn’t true. Especially since he was pretty sure he’d never crossed Scotty in any other way than giving him one or two extra shots from the hypo that he may or may not have needed during a physical. That wasn’t enough to warrant sending the CMO to an uncharted hostile desert planet, McCoy was sure.
“I don’t think so,” Leonard said, looking away from Han. “It was a transporter malfunction, they happen all the time.”
“If you insist,” the tall man said, shrugging his shoulders and sounding as if Leonard was a lost cause. “But I doubt they’ll answer when you send out your plea for help. Those guys are all the way to Hoth by this time.”
Bones sent a glare in Han’s direction but didn’t mention it anymore. They continued in silence, moving through the city without any further interruption. McCoy was distracted now anyway. All around them, at random intervals, space ships of all kinds were taking off without any apparent regulation. Not to mention half of them looked like they were more prepared to fall apart rather than travel through space. What kind of place was this Tatooine?
“Here we are,” Han said apparently having stopped and he caught Leonard’s arm in a firm grip to keep him from walking off. Leonard stopped dead, turning to look at Han and pull his arm from the man’s grasp, eyes narrowing in warning. He didn’t trust the man that much. “Hey, easy there Doc, just getting your attention.” Han didn’t wait any longer and turned down the alley he was apparently referring to.
McCoy had began to wonder why he had decided to follow a man who apparently lived in an alley when he saw it, the large ship that was docked in the plaza the alley ended in. This ship was in far better condition than any ship Leonard had yet to see take off and yet it was still on the small size, a flat circular design didn’t leave much room for a crew. Leonard frowned at it, crossing his arms and stopping at the end of the alley to stare at Han.
“This is it?”
Han stopped, shoulders going stiff and he turned sharply to give Leo a warning look. “Excuse me?” he asked slowly.
One to understand when he was treading on the soft paunch of a man’s ego, Leonard carefully considered his words. “I’m just not used to ships of this…size,” he finished lamely, posturing for anything Han decided to start.
The man wrinkled his nose and looked insulted, gesturing with the sharp jerk of his hand at the ship. “This is my baby,” Han’s snapped. “The Millennium Falcon. You better show some
respect.”
McCoy held up his hands in the universal salute of surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” he sighed, wondering how he had failed to peg Han as the type to hold things like space ships on pedestals.
“What kind of big ships are you talking about anyway?” Han asked, crossing his arms now and dropping his head to the side as if to reconsider Leonard. “The biggest ships I know are the Empire’s ships, and those behemoths aren’t good for anything but getting blown up.”
“I don’t know anything about this Empire,” Leonard snapped, a strange surge of pride swelling in his chest. “But the ship I’m from is about ten times to yours and the equipped with the best technology has to offer. It isn’t getting blown up any time soon.”
Han looked like he was ready for some more macho pissing over the size of ships when suddenly, from the Falcon, a large very furry man came lumbering down from the hatch. McCoy couldn’t help it; he stared in surprise at the creature who was something like the cross between a dog and a sasquatch. Han noticed this and turned, spotting the creature and grinning.
“Hey, Chewy,” he greeted, walking over to share some words with the…interesting alien. What was most interesting, the doctor was sure, was the alien’s vocal communication. It was some odd, throaty groan that Han seemed to actually understand. Leonard had thought himself rather tolerant of learning of a new race but there was something about this alien that left the doctor feeling weary. It might have been the obvious hostile way his presence was being treated by ‘Chewy.’
Carefully, Leonard made his way over when he was sure that the two were done speaking privately to each other about him. “I don’t want to bother you any longer,” he said, frowning deeply and glaring at Han. He wasn’t too sure if it was a good idea to look the tall, furry man in the eyes anyway. “So if I could just make my call…?”
“I suppose,” Han replied shushing Chewy’s gurgling yodel of protest. “Hey, come on, I told ya his buddies left him stranded here! How would you like to get stranded here? Especially dressed like that.” Han gestured to Bones’ blues and he bit his lip, carefully telling himself that wherever they were Starfleet was a nonevent to them.
“Yes,” Leonard said, carefully looking up at Chewy and doing his best to seem as if he wasn’t intimidated. “All I need to do is make a call, and I’ll be out of your hair-uh, business.” McCoy tried not to face palm, smooth recovery there, slim.
No one seemed to notice his slip up, though, and Chewy seemed to acquiesce. Han gave Chewy another grin and clapped the, uh, man on the shoulder. “Alright, Doc, let’s head up,” he said moving up the ramp that lead into the hatch. Chewy, thankfully, chose not to follow. Catching Bones’ grateful look back, Han smirked at him. “What, never seen a Wookie before?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” Leonard said, turning his attention to the interior of the ship. It was just as small inside as it was outside. About as big as sick bay’s main room and then maybe a little bit more if there was a room Leonard hadn’t seen yet. The one they were in looked like a common room, a couch and places to sit along with a small kitchen made the scene. It was cluttered with a number of different things from clothing, to guns and boxes.
“This is the common room, where we sleep and eat,” the man said in passing, waving his hand dismissively at the room.
Leonard turned to look at Han, quirking an eyebrow. “Your whole crew fits in here to sleep?” he asked incredulously.
Han chuckled, giving Leonard an amused look. “Doc, it’s just me and Chewbacca,” he said, as if it were obvious.
“That’s it?” Bones said in disbelief, looking back around the ship. From where he was from, one-man ships were practically microscopic. Two man ships definitely weren’t this big though.
“Yeah?” now Han was in disbelief. “What more do you need?”
“What about a crew?” Leonard supplied, leaning his head towards Han.
“I’m the Captain and Chewy is my first officer,” the dark blond man said, sounding a little insulted again. “What more do you need?”
McCoy bit his lip on that reply, knowing that further chauvinism was just going to get him booted on his ass. “Sure, I guess,” he said instead, looking back around. “Can I make a call here?”
He was getting that reconsidering look again from Han, but the man cleared it away when he was caught this time. “No, we make it in the cockpit,” he said, turning to head that way.
The use of the term cockpit had already turned McCoy’s mind for a loop but the actual place itself made him even more insecure about the ship. It definitely wasn’t the Enterprise bridge, that was for sure. Han dropped into the pilot’s chair and started pushing multiple controls.
“Alright, you know the frequency or anything?” Han asked, turning in the chair to look at Leonard.
“No.”
“’Course not,” the captain said under his breath as he turned back around and McCoy glared at the back of his head. He fiddled with more controls before handing a very crude headset to Leonard. “Alright, so this is just a general broadcast to the surrounding area. Make sure to mention the ship name, alright?”
Bones nodded and took the headset, looking it over before putting it on-stopping at Han’s amused input that it was backwards. He scowled and righted the headset and put it on.
“This is Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the USS Enterprise,” he began, putting on his best ‘I am in control of the situation’ voice. “Through a transporter malfunction I have been stranded on the planet Tatooine. Immediate recovery is appreciated.” He thought that was rather appropriate and Uhura would undoubtedly understand it well enough, so he took off the headset and handed it back.
“Well done, Doc,” Han said, placing the headset aside. “I’ve got it encrypted but I’m sure your buddies are looking for you. So, they’ll find it through the keywords you mentioned, I put them in the code.” The tall pilot stood, turning around and grinning at McCoy. The doctor swallowed, noticing they were rather close now, in the small place of the cockpit.
Han leaned over, putting a hand on the wall behind Bones’ head, bringing them even closer. “You wanna hang out with me, while you wait?” the man asked, meeting McCoy’s eyes with an intensity that told him it was just a test and nothing more. “Wouldn’t do you any harm.”
Leonard carefully resisted the urge to swallow or show any other involuntary signs of weakness. “Sure, why not,” he drawled, quirking an eyebrow.
Somehow, they ended up in a bar. The bar was full mostly with aliens, all varieties that McCoy had never seen before. They were the only humans anywhere in sight and it was surprisingly unsettling. The doctor had been on his fair share of alien planets, but so had a good number of his crew with him, many of which were in sight of McCoy at the time. This was a new experience, especially since Han already seemed to alien himself.
However, Han was entirely human, of that Bones was sure. He was a doctor; he could recognize a human when he saw one. Humans were familiar and so was Han’s personality. He was similar to Jim, in many ways, but it was pretty obvious after a while that the two were very different in their core aspects. McCoy couldn’t be sure what Jim was driven by, but it certainly wasn’t what Han was driven by: money.
When they got to the bar, Han abandoned him at a booth in the back to talk to some of the other patrons. From what Leonard could overhear, it distinctly sounded like there were some big deals going down and Han was a main purveyor of all of them. The man handled them all with the ease of familiarity, a smooth talker to the core, but everyone still seemed distinctly unhappy that Han’s was going to get so much money.
McCoy tried not think about, however, that most of the deals were of a very illegal nature. Weapons, drugs and even-he couldn’t be sure, because they very careful on their wording for this one-people. He tried not to be unsettled by the fact he was making nice with a criminal, because he was well aware that all the other…gentlemen in the bar were criminals as well of a much more unforgiving nature. So when Han returned to their table, McCoy was sure to give the man a small smile.
Han returned it in fold, setting a drink down in front of him and settling in the odd booth seat across from Leonard. “Sorry for ditching ya,” the captain said, leaning on the table with his elbows. “Had some business to maintain.”
“I noticed,” Leonard said, shrugging his shoulder and carefully sipping the drink Han’s gave him. It was definitely alcoholic and definitely refreshing, if a little too fruity for Leonard’s usual tastes. Bones had been well aware, all day, how much he could have gone for a drink. “Don’t let me hold you back.”
The man looked ready to reply with his own witty retort when his expression did a strange stutter. It went from being open to carefully feigned openness. He leaned back in a seemingly defenseless sprawl and grinned too toothily at the strange alien that walked up. McCoy was getting very good at not staring.
“Han,” the alien hissed, its strange lizard like head twitching unsettlingly as it stared at Han. “Heard something interesting over the radio earlier, better watch your back.”
Bones went still at the strange warning, sending a quick questioning glance at Han. His gaze was met with the exact opposite look he had been hoping to see: worry. The alien wandered off and Han stood up with barely contained haste.
“C’mon, Doc,” he said carefully under his breath, glancing around. “We better make ourselves scarce.”
This was going to end badly, McCoy could feel it. They left the bar, heading in the complete opposite direction that they came and at a much faster pace. The heat was especially unbearable, the sky a deep red colour. Bones suspected that the suns were setting but he had no idea why that was making it hotter. Everything on Tatooine continued to be backward to what Leonard was normally familiar with.
Either way, the heat was slowing McCoy down, sweat dripping off his forehead and making itself a nuisance down the slope of his nose. He wiped it away, pushing himself harder to catch up with Han. Suddenly, they burst from an alley onto an empty street.
The brunet captain cursed explosively and ducked around, grabbing Bones’ by the waist and pushing him to the ground. A loud pop rang out behind them, from where the missed shot met sand. Han landed half on top of Leonard and rolled away quickly, scrambling with little grace to hide behind the convenient stack of boxes they’d landed behind. McCoy sat up and scooted on his ass backwards until his back met the hard, safe surface of the boxes.
“Keep your head down,” Han advised needlessly, barely sparing the doctor a glance. He had a strange looking pistol pulled out from nowhere and was carefully peeking around the side of the box to find their attacker. He jerked back and crashed into McCoy as another loud pop landed very close to them.
McCoy sputtered sand from his mouth and pushed Solo off of him carefully. “Jesus,” he breathed pulling his hand back. “I’m a doctor, not a cowboy!” Han turned to give him a sarcastic smirk, blood flowing freely from where the shot had grazed his forehead.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” the man snapped, turning back around and readying his pistol, gripping it tight in both hands. Another shot zipped past them and unsettled more sand, then Han with surprising speed rose the gun around the corner and pulled the trigger.
The noise that Han’s gun made would have earned a sarcastic comment from Bones if it hadn’t been followed by a telltale thump. Han sprung up grinning wide, his white teeth causing an interesting contrast to the red sand that was coating much of his face, and turned to look down at Bones.
“Got ‘em,” he said, smug, and held out a hand to help McCoy up from his place on the ground. Their hands smacked together and Han’s pulled him up with a strong jerk. McCoy stood up, barely maintaining his balance so that they didn’t crash into each other again. He looked up and they were close again, two sandy panting men.
Han smirked and McCoy ignored the invitation he knew it held. “Aren’t you gonna check who the fuck it was shooting at you?” he asked, keeping his expression carefully dry.
If Han was disappointed at the rejection, he didn’t show it. He shrugged and turned around, swaggering over to the small face down body a few feet away. Without much fanfare, he kicked the body over and studied the face. McCoy made his way over, wondering if perhaps he knew this species of alien. “No idea who it is,” Solo announced, looking back over at McCoy. “I’ll-“
Suddenly, the small body jerked up, a knife glinting in it’s hand and Leonard acted fast, grabbing a handful of the cocky bastard’s vest and pulling him forward just in time. The assassin’s dagger met sand and Han quickly whirled around to shoot the alien dead in the head. The body slumped over again and silence reigned in the empty street once again.
“Goddamn,” Leo breathed, staring wide-eyed at the alien. “You guys don’t fuck around on this planet, do you?”
Han laughed, as if he hadn’t almost been stabbed in the knee, and clapped McCoy on the shoulder. “You’re getting the idea,” he said and Leo couldn’t help but feeling like he’d won something.
There wasn’t much to be done with the body now that it didn’t have a face and they split, Han warning that worse trouble would be on the way if they lingered. After a long, convoluted “scenic route” back to the Falcon, McCoy was exhausted. The suns had finally set, submerging the planet into an icy, inky night that had griped at his very bones. When they started down the familiar alley, he couldn’t help the moan of relief that escaped his mouth.
Han tossed a grin over his shoulder at Leonard and he caught an eyeful of the head injury from earlier. He frowned, vowing to look at it when they were in the safety of the ship. Chewy was nowhere in sight when they made it to the center of the plaza but Han didn’t seem to think anything of it, so Bones didn’t mention it.
They sent one careful searching look around, Han pulling a small odd flashlight from a pocket on his belt and skittering around the darkened area. After deciding they were safe, they headed up into the Falcon, Solo closing the door pointedly behind them this time.
“Alright,” Leonard announced, dropping a hand onto Han’s arm. “Let me have a look at that head wound.”
Solo smiled, wide and easy, and headed over to the small couch against the far left wall. He dropped bonelessly onto the cushions, stretching all his long limbs about him carelessly, and looked expectantly at Leonard. If the doctor was to be intimidated by this, it didn’t work. He was intent on doing his Job, which was taking care of injuries on handsome devil-may-care captains or not.
Leonard settled on his knees next to Han, leaning over him to look at the wound. He took the man’s head in both hands, turning it this way and that in the light to get a good look at the wound. It was similar to a burn, confirming McCoy’s suspicions that projectile weapons weren’t in fashion, and it spanned from just a little beyond Han’s hairline to just above his eyebrow.
It wasn’t so bad, bleeding as much as it did because it was a head wound. He looked down and was surprised to see Han’s intense brown eyes watching him. “Do you have something I can clean this with?” he asked, wondering why his mouth was dry.
“I’m sure I do somewhere,” Han replied, obviously uninspired to show McCoy where. A warm large hand settled on his waist, brushing over the skin no longer protected by his undershirt.
“This will get infected, if you don’t clean it,” Leonard said, but he had forgotten his original reason as to why when Han’s thumb brushed across his abdomen. He carefully did not shudder under the touch and leveled Han with a warning glare.
Han didn’t seem to care about any of the warning in Bones’ gaze and suddenly pulled him off balance and into Han’s lap. Leonard growled, struggling against the arm now around his waist. He wasn’t making much of an impression to escape, as Han’s grip held true.
“Don’t worry about it, Doc,” Solo said, smug as ever when Leonard gave up his struggle. He gripped the doctor’s shoulder and pulled the man further against him. Suddenly, their lips met angry and hot. Leonard wasn’t sure who kissed whom, but he was willing to admit that they met in the middle.
They kissed with their teeth clicking and tongues clashing. Han tasted of salt, solder and the drinks from earlier. Leonard pressed his hands into Han’s hair, settling his knees around the other man’s waist and pressing himself flush against him. Han’s hand griped his hip hard, fingers digging into the flesh, and bit down on Bones’ lip.
Breaking apart, they panted, breath mingling hot between them and eyes searing into each other. Han grunted, smirking again and manhandled Leonard again, pulling him off his lap and pressing him against the couch. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Doc,” Han breathed, catching Leonard’s wrists and pressing them hard into the cushion above his head. “Didn’t think I’d get to put it in you, either.”
Leonard groaned, half in pleasure and half in agony. Han already reminded him dangerously of Jim enough, why did the man have to keep making the match worse and worse? Han interrupted the groan in his favor, thankfully, because they were kissing again and there was an insistent leg pressing up between his legs.
His shirt was pushed up around his nipples both of which got ample attention from Han’s mouth and fingers. Leonard grunted and struggled against Han’s hands, intent on causing his own torture to the captain’s grip held true though and the bite of his fingers into Leo’s wrist only made him hotter. Han smirked and tugged on the clasp of Leo’s pants.
“You waiting for a written invitation?” Bones snapped, struggling against Han’s hands again.
Han laughed, suddenly letting Leo’s hands go. “I don’t-“ he began and suddenly they were crashing into each other again as Leo pulled their head forcefully together. Teeth clicked again and Leo grabbed a hold of the bottom of Han’s shirt, breaking away from the kiss and smoothly pulling the shirt off him.
The rest of their clothing was soon to follow. Pants, boots and shirts flew carelessly away and each piece of naked skin left from their absence met searching fingers or a hot mouth.
They kissed, bit and rutted against each other, groaning at the change in the experience now that they were both naked. Han’s pulled away suddenly, sitting up on his knees and supporting himself with a hand on the back of the couch to steady himself. Beneath him, a very irritated doctor was sprawled his hands hovering in the air, empty from the flesh of his back they had been digging into. It was a damn beautiful sight, Han was sure.
“Hold on,” Han groaned, hooking a hand under one of Leo’s legs and spreading it out to express his intent. Leo’s eyes blazed, his chest heaving, and he nodded. Nodding back, Han carefully pushed himself up and off of the man, stumbling over to a supply cabinet on the opposite wall. He pulled the door violently open, carelessly pushing things aside to find the familiar bottle of lube and grabbed it.
He heard a moan from behind him and swirled around, eyes going wide as he watched Leo wrap his hand around his dick, pulling on it slowly.
“Solo,” McCoy hissed, arching his back a little as his thumb brushed over the head of his dick.
Han didn’t need any more invitation than that and he hurried back over to the couch, dropping back down into his previous position. He grabbed Leo’s knee again and groaned when Leo propped up his other leg on the back of the couch. Hands grabbed the bottle of lube from him, for which he was grateful, and squirted a generous amount onto his hand. Before he could do anything about this, one of the hands gripped his wrist tightly. He looked up into McCoy’s scowl.
“You better not,” Leo panted, “have any damn diseases.”
“Relax,” Han soothed, pulling his hand free from Leo’s grip. “It’s a special lube, protection.”
McCoy inspected the bottle while Han finally was allowed to stick his hand where he’d been intending to for a while. Leo’s hole was unresisting and, after circling it teasingly a few times, he pushed his finger inside. Leo was warm and tight, and Han groaned at the sensation of the muscle gripping his finger, pushing the digit in deeper. Soon enough, after some careful stretching, Han could push another finger in.
The doctor seemed content to thrust on just the fingers, hand gripping the cushion above his hand as he pressed his face into the skin of his bicep. Han helpfully moved his fingers in time with McCoy’s hips, wiggling his fingers around until he hit---Leo suddenly arched, gasping and his eyes flying wide open and Han smirked---the prostate.
“Fuck!” McCoy spat, reaching a hand up to tangle in Han’s hair. “I’m ready, goddamnit, just fuck me already.” The captain was all too ready to comply. He pulled his fingers free and reached for the lube again, sitting atop Leo’s chest.
Leonard had other intents in mind as his hand reached the lube first. He pushed up on one elbow, squirting the liquid into this hand and then reaching down to grip Han tightly. The doctor’s hand was warm and sure as he thoroughly spread the lube on Han’s dick before falling away to grip at the couch cushion again.
Han groaned, carefully finding a position he could work with and hooking his elbows under Leo’s knees. They both groaned as he thrust inside in one, smooth movement. Bones’ head fell back against the couch as his back arched. Time seemed to hover, still and burning between them before McCoy pressed his hips harder into Han’s. It was all movement after that, Han’s hips working hard and quick as he moved in and out of the doctor.
Their mouths met again as Leo wrapped his legs tight around Han’s waist and pulled him down, hands gripping hard at his back as they fucked. With a shift the angle changed and Bones was gasping out with each deep thrust. Han smirked, grunting as the muscles tightened around him, and moved his hand between them grabbing McCoy’s dick and pulling.
It didn’t take much more of this, as Han continued to thrust into his prostate and stroke his dick, before McCoy came. He grunted and gasped, spilling between them and all over Han’s hand. Han gave a few valiant more thrusts, groaning at the muscles spasming about his dick, before he came too, pressing his face into Bones’ neck.
Carefully they pulled away from each other, both making soft noises as Han pulled out. Leonard carefully pulled himself up onto his elbows and looked up at Han. He actually almost couldn’t believe that they’d actually just had sex. Han stared back, expression a mixture of smug and satisfied.
The captain stood, a little shakily much to McCoy’s smug satisfaction, and looked down at the doctor. “I’ll get us a drink and something to clean up with,” he said, running a hand through Leo’s hair as he passed. McCoy collapsed back into the couch and stared up at the ceiling. He wondered what exactly about Han had made him decide it was a good idea for them to have sex. Actually, Leo winced, he would actually rather not know.
Soon, though, Han came and rescued him from his thoughts. His handsome head popped into McCoy’s line of sight, blocking out the black ceiling above, his smile wide. “You alright?” he drawled, dropping a wet cloth onto Bones’ stomach with a splat.
Leo sat up all the way and began carefully cleaning himself off. “Just peachy,” he answered, looking up at Han with a small smile. “Definitely sore.”
Han smirked, sitting down on a box beside the couch and taking a swig out of a funny looking bottle. “You know, sometimes I even amaze myself,” he said, smug as ever. Leo let himself admit then to himself, just briefly, that he didn’t mind how much Han reminded him of Jim.
“You know,” Bones replied in the same tone, balling up the cloth and hitting Han in the stomach with it. “I’d really rather prefer sleeping on a bed tonight.”
“That,” Han said, standing up and handing Leo the bottle. “Can be arranged if you get up.”
Grumbling only a little, McCoy pulled himself to his feet and very much didn’t wince. He very much didn’t wince just as much as he very much didn’t jump when Han slapped his ass as he passed him. Leo growled in reply and carefully took a drink from the bottle. It was some strange tangy alcohol but, besides the tangy part, wasn’t too bad. He took another swig and turned around and watched as Han turned the couch into a bed. Once it was complete, Han made a grand gesture with his arms to offer it to Leo.
Leo flipped him off and fell face first into the bed, sighing, as it was very comfortable for having formerly been half inside a wall. The bed tumbled with movement as Han climbed on beside him, stretching out his lean body alongside McCoy. It was the last thing he remembered from that night.
What awoke him was the familiar strange sound that Chewy made. He sounded rather angry and Han’s familiar voice was trying to calm him, judging by the soothing quality it had taken on. Leo shifted and groaned, slowly becoming aware of the world and the fact he was very naked and had very much been fucked by Han Solo last night. He seized into motion, sitting up and pulling the covers around him to shield his nakedness from the furry alien.
He was too late, however, and the half-naked Han was waving at Chewy’s back as he went down the hatch. Han caught sight of Leo’s ungraceful shame and smirked, shaking his head.
“Don’t worry,” the tall man said easily, dropping McCoy’s pile of clothes onto the bed beside him. “Chewy didn’t see nothin’ Chewy didn’t want to see.” And with those cryptic words, he disappeared into the cockpit.
Carefully, Bones got dressed, setting his uniform as correctly and neatly as he could manage. He couldn’t tell if it was a success or not since Han’s Falcon had a distinct lack of mirrors. He sighed, looking down at his wrinkled Starfleet logo and frowning. A weird jolt stuttered through his insides and when he looked up, he was on the Enterprise.
“Bones!” Jim exclaimed, looking relieved from where he stood just down the steps from the transporter pads. Bones gaped at him, looked around at the crowd of familiar faces and then back at Jim.
Doctor McCoy shut his mouth with an audible snap and straightened his shoulders, glaring at Scotty from where he stood behind the transporter controls. “You’d better have a good fucking explanation for this or you’re gonna wish you’d never gotten me back,” he grouched and suddenly had an armful of Enterprise captain.
“Damnit, Bones,” Jim breathed, punching him in the shoulder as he pulled away. “You smell terrible and you’re covered in sand.”
Bones shook his head and smiled tiredly. “That bad, huh?”