Caught in a bad romance

[sharpestscalpel]

The locked console gave a gentle trilling chime and McCoy looked over at it.

It didn't make that sound very often but, from the slowly spreading smile on his face, it was evident that he appreciated when it did.

The smile only widened as he read the communication sent from Earth. He readjusted himself in his pants as he scanned the words a second time.

That red silk had felt good, confining and constricting in all the right ways. Still, he'd have to buy her something pretty to make up for it. And if she floundered around trying to explain the new panties to that impotent fuckwad dicksnot of a senator she'd married, all the better.

McCoy's fingers were swift as he typed his response.

Aw, baby, there’s no damn reason to be like that about it. And you also know if Reggie gives you any trouble I’ll cut his fucking cock off and make him eat it like sashimi.

Hell, I’ll probably do that at some goddamn point anyway for fucking marrying my wife.

Besides, I know you found it and had two fingers in that pretty pussy faster than I’d be able to get into your pants if I’d been there. Don’t pretend to me it didn’t make you wet – you act like I don’t shitting know you, woman.

Just like you know I took the blue silk with me last time. Keep it in the top drawer of my nightstand for just in case I get lonesome.

You head of the Empire yet?

-L

He chuckled as he sent it off through protected, nearly invisible channels.

Comments

To Leonard McCoy, Who Certainly Has No Lack of... Confidence

[consort-regnant.livejournal.com]

All right then, sugar. Since you asked so nicely.

Where were we? Oh, that's right.

I was fucking myself with that glass dildo, and I won't lie to you, it felt damn good but it also hurt a little bit. It's just so big, babydoll. And hard. And sometimes I want that, that little frisson of pain, but other times... Well, other times I want to hurry Reggie the fuck up because I have dinner plans.

So I took my new toy, my pretty, shiny new buttplug, and I slipped it in my ass just as quick as winking. Oh, it made me scream. I would have for the effect anyway, but sometimes I don't have to fake it. And then I screamed again, coming so goddamn hard I clenched around that dildo 'til I knew my pussy was gonna be bruised.

Reggie was panting by then, and I knew I'd given him enough of a show to hurry him up a bit. So I smiled real slow and licked my lips and purred at him, "Come on, honey. You can have any hole you want."

I thought for sure he'd take my ass, or maybe my mouth, but he got down on the floor just the way a man of his age should never do and told me to ride him. And when I was bouncing up and down on his dick, aching and moaning from it, he reached around and grabbed hold of the base of that plug and just twisted, over and over. He didn't stop until the tears were just streaming down my face. It was so good that I gave him an extra treat when he'd finished, and shimmied down to lick him clean. He couldn't get hard again, of course, but he'll have that memory to keep him warm the next time I've got the not-tonight-honey-I've-got-a-headaches for a month or so.

I tell you what, I have never been so satisfied by my second husband. I'll have to bring that little beauty out again sometime, for sure.

I had to miss my dinner plans after all. I couldn't sit for days. That's why I took so long to write to you about the havoc you wreaked on my wardrobe, once I'd discovered it. You know how much I hate to do voice recordings, so it had to wait until I could sit up and type again.

Now then, tell me what you've got to tell, or next time I'll keep my bedtime stories all to myself.

- J

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

He'd awakened to the sound of keys tapping lightly, confused as fuck and thinking the biobed must've gone crazy in the night and now was morse coding something to those fuckers in the walls.

And then McCoy laughed, and a tendril of pure terror unfurled in his gut, like it'd just been lying in wait. Kirk remained still, curled tight under the thin blanket and every sense on the alert.

He could see McCoy from here, sitting at his terminal and grinning at it like a loon. He typed some more, and then he was talking, talking and not looking at him and Kirk was confused at first, until he realized he wasn't talking to him at all. It filtered through his brain that he was talking to that girl--the older one, most likely--in the photo.

Jesus Fucking Christ. Did the man never stop? Or was this all for him, the continual display? It was enough to put him off sex forever.

Except he still couldn't look away. McCoy was so easily sensual, in his ever move, though that may have been because Kirk rarely saw him to anything these days that wasn't overtly about sex. It pissed him off, this show, especially when Kirk had tried to be overt in his advances and been rebuffed. McCoy was keeping him waiting, but for what? Did he think he had something to offer Kirk that went beyond food and his health? Did he think he was going to snag him in some other way?

He had to admit, though, watching McCoy lick his own fingers, he had something. And Kirk could feel, along with fear and anger and confusion, not a little taste of respect.

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

McCoy buttoned up his pants and sat back in his chair - credits to cocksucking Jos was still at her console, waiting for his response. He looked over at the sofa bed.

"Oh, well, fuck a bunch of Andorian monkeys, look who's decided to wakey wakey. Morning, Blue."

His voice was full of good will and good humor. His stomach growled and he passed a hand over it, scratching low on his belly.

"You want some fucking breakfast?"

The console chimed again and McCoy smirked. He laughed again as he read the new message and then looked up at Kirk.

"I'd say she was a fucking pistol but Jos is really more of a goddamn machine gun if you want the shitting truth."

He pushed away from the console and padded on bare feet to the replicator, input his order, and waited for two plates to appear.

Eggs. Bacon. Toast. Grits for him - the replicator never got them quite creamy enough but with runny yolked eggs mashed up in them, he could fucking tolerate it.

McCoy plunked one plate down on the side table by the sofa and took his own back to the console.

To Jocelyn McCoy, Who Knows There Ain't A Lot I Lack

I'd almost feel sorry for Reggie if I didn't know he'd been looking for a subservient little piece of tail when he found you instead. Serves him right.

We've seen some crazy shit under Pike's command. And it ain't like he turned everything back over to the goddamn Fleet - man ain't here but he ain't stupid and I'll never say otherwise.

My money is on us being ordered back to Earth - though our new bitch-Captain will take her damn time, I'm sure - so I'll give you the real details in person. It's a secure line but you know I get a little paranoid sometimes.

Just... ain't any assassin going to succeed when Uhura has the ship herself defending her. Well, except for my sickbay. That baby's all mine, all mine.

JTK, as you so succinctly put it, got this whole party fucking started, actually. Tried to beam Pike into the black vacuum. Spock didn't take too kindly to that, threw the kid in the brig, and then fucked off to go find Pike.

Baby, it was a tense couple of weeks there, I tell you goddamn what. I'm glad I held my hand, though. Pike was pissed when he came back and if I'd have made a move, I might be telling you an entirely different goddamn story.

You ever seen a man castrated?

It's kind of tidy, though I don't think Blue really appreciates the neatness of Pike's work. Kid's on the sofa bed right now, staring black holes at me. Can't figure out why I ain't fucked him through the floor yet.

I think you're going to like this one.

-L

McCoy sent the communication off and looked up to find Kirk still staring.

"You going to eat your fucking food or what?"

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

McCoy was in a really good mood and Kirk couldn't decide if that meant good or bad things for him. He did know that McCoy wanted him for something, and it probably wasn't a shivering mass or he'd have left him in the brig, or in sickbay, filthy and feral.

In other words, he wasn't helping himself or his chances with McCoy by staring at him balefully. And hell. He was hungry.

He sat up, stared at the food and then, considering, stood (fuck, he was sore, just the exertion of the previous day enough to leave him a souvenir) and righted the bed back into a couch. If McCoy was going to call him a guest, he was going to be a good one. He sat back down, plate in hand, and nodded at him.

"Thanks," he said. It was replicated, of course, but it was solid. The eggs would have some flavor and bacon, just thinking about it was absurdly stimulating. He lifted a slice to his mouth and nearly moaned at the taste, the texture, rubbery and fake though it was. He was ravnous, suddenly, despite it all, though he made an effort not to inhale his food.

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

The kid didn't quite bolt his food like a starving dog but he wasn't nearly as restrained as he thought he was. McCoy wasn't going to bust his fucking chops about it though. He'd never starved but he'd seen enough of it to have some idea.

"I figure you got questions."

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

He resisted licking the plate clean, but his fork and then toast caught as much of the egg as it could. He looked up, swallowing.

"I figure you already know what you're willing to answer," he said. But whatever, he'd bite. "Why am I here, McCoy?"

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

"Well, there's what I'm willing to answer but I'm curious what you want to know."

The console was, for the moment, quiet, so McCoy ambled over to the chair he'd occupied the night before and eased into it.

"You're here specifically because if you clutter up my sickbay any longer, I have to start reporting my doings to Fleet. Some regs I can't get around and keep my damn job, Blue. But if I release you to your own shitting quarters, I give you about a buck fifty of minutes before you're dead. And I ain't put all this effort in for that to happen."

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

That made sense, and Kirk agreed, so far as his own appraisal of his chances of survival went. But there was so much he wanted to know.

"So you're expecting some return on your investment," he said. "Which means you think I've got something to offer the current situation doesn't. What might that be?"

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

McCoy shrugged.

"You'll forgive the metaphor but you've got balls going after Pike. You fucked it up, but I don't figure you for stupid. I ain't power hungry - but I play the long game. You won't get this ship, boy, but you might damn well take more. That happens, I'll be around for it."

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Yeah, he thought he was real clever, but Kirk had no place right now kicking up a fuss over his choice of colorful phrases.

"Never figured the ship was necessarily the end of the run. Not at my age. But I did figure it was the next step," he said slowly. He'd been right, at least, in his interpretation last night. "We talking alliance?"

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

"You never skipped a step on a ladder? Didn't have you in mind as an obsessive rule follower."

He left Kirk's question unanswered for the moment.

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Kirk didn't miss the omission. He let it go, for now. There was almost a smirk in his eyes, a pale shadow of his former confidence. As if he still didn't fully believe he could be what he'd been, but it was trying to peek out just the same.

"One might say I tried to skip too many this time," he said. "But no. I don't consult the book on a regular basis."

What did McCoy want for himself? What position could he desire, that CMO was a step to? And how many rungs was he talking about skipping, himself?

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

McCoy had skipped right to CMO. He'd gone through the Academy as a gateway to medical school. He'd never been an ensign sucking cock in desperation for meal rations.

He wasn't ambitious but he was good at skipping steps. And he did get bored sometimes.

"You want to know why Spock came for you?"

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Kirk shifted, straightened. That had caught his attention. He hadn't realized there was something of such import to know; damn crazy Vulcans were a mystery to him.

"Yes," he said.

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

"Then we'll trade. I'll tell you that goddamn good story - but first I want to know about your arrangements with Uhura."

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Kirk tilted his head. It was too tempting an offer, and Uhura had clearly washed her hands of him, cold-hearted bitch that she was. Which was the only reason he'd side with her to begin with, so it was both unfair and totally reasonable that he hate her now.

Still. He could use what little mystique he still had.

"Which arrangements?" he asked with a little smile. "I mean, business or pleasure?"

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

That was a little more like it. McCoy thrived on insider information.

"Let's start with business. You can entertain me from there."

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Uhura seemed established, if Kirk understood those damned things Pike had left her. He owed her nothing, not after all this.

"We were supposed to move together," he said. "Obviously I don't know the details of what went down, seeing as she must have cut me adrift the moment things looked fucked. She was going to take care of Spock. Figured, without Pike, even if that took longer and even if the accident it was traced to me I wouldn't spend too long languishing, long as no one broke with tradition and took me out right away."

His fist formed, unconsciously, on his knee.

"Cunt probably had one of the others lined up all along. Is it Sulu or Chekov? Anyway, didn't figure her for the figurehead type. Guess that was another mistake I made--she was so goddamned insistent that she needed someone in front."

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

"Chekov. Sulu tried as soon as Spock was gone - burned the fucking skin off his face. And a significant shitting portion of the rest of him."

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Kirk stilled, the change apparent though he hadn't been moving before. For the first time he realized that it could have been worse. Unthinkably, considering where he still was, but... He wasn't ready to say he'd rather have his balls cut off and become a living anatomy model, but he was a lot fucking closer.

And here McCoy had been, through it all, quietly following orders but squirreling away what he could in the meantime. Like, for instance, him. And now he had the best deal of all. And it was... power, of a sort, Kirk realized.

"Fuck," he said. "He live?"

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

McCoy had no sympathy for Sulu. His initial treatment had ended in infection through his own goddamn idiocy.

"I carved out some necrotic tissue just the other day. He's a goddamn lot less of a man than he used to be."

It wasn't a smile. There was something hard at the edges of his mouth. If Sulu needed more treatment, it might be his last.

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

And that, somehow, illustrated something to Kirk. He was here, in this room, trading stories and fuck knew what else. Sulu was... Sulu wasn't even a consideration. To Kirk or to McCoy. It meant both that Kirk had something and that it was possible, any moment, to find out he didn't. Both of which he knew but damn well bore repeating to himself.

He was in McCoy's hands. And McCoy's hands were clever, dangerous things. Maybe even more than his mouth.

"You gonna tell me about Pike and his Vulcan?"

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

His hands steepled, the fingertips of his index fingers resting on his chin.

"How much do you know about Vulcans? Their mental powers?"

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Mostly what they all knew. "They're touch telepaths. They can sense other things. They can manipulate minds--again, through touch." He thought. "You think he's got some sort of hold on Pike?"

His voice was disbelieving as he said it, unable to imagine the man he knew as captain could be so in thrall.

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

McCoy's laugh was easy, sardonic.

"You could say that. They are mates."