Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2009-09-03 13:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | star trek fic hotm, star trek fic kirk/mccoy |
Star Trek fic: A Question of Trust [Kirk/McCoy, adult]
Title: A Question of Trust
Author: celandineb
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: adult
Length: 3443 words
Warnings: blindfolding during sex
Summary: Kirk and McCoy spend Christmas evening together.
Note: Fourteenth in the "Heart of the Matter" series. Title taken from the Depeche Mode song "A Question of Lust." As usual, can be read alone although it probably makes more sense in the context of earlier installments.
Christmas, the holiday, had never meant that much to Kirk. Neither he nor anyone in his family was religious, and the secular ways of celebrating the holiday had only emphasized the lack of good will in the household of his childhood years.
The past two Christmases at Starfleet Academy had not changed his attitude appreciably. Whether believers or not – and the great majority were not – most of the cadets seized the opportunity of the winter break from regular classes to go home if they could manage it. Kirk, of course, had had no interest in doing so. His first year, he had elected to take an intersession course that accustomed cadets to coping with different gravity fields, from pure weightlessness up to four Gs, and also taught the skills of wearing a spacesuit, everything from extra vehicular activities to making an emergency drop to a planet.
Last year he had decided that he needed a break, having taken summer classes and therefore having been in school with no vacation longer than a week in sixteen months. He had stayed on campus, hanging about with the one or two friends who were also there, and getting a head start on his reading for the spring term.
He had no particular plans for today, other than going out for dinner with McCoy; the day he was looking forward to was tomorrow, when they would travel to Atlanta together. He did have a present to give him, though it had been hard to think of a suitable one. First, because wherever McCoy ended up being assigned, he'd be limited in how much personal baggage he could take with him – unless of course he stayed on Earth, which Kirk really hoped wouldn't happen.
Second, because although they had been together for over two months now, Kirk was uncertain how he thought of their relationship. He found it both emotionally and sexually enjoyable, no question about that, but he also felt a degree of restlessness. He tried to relieve that by flirting with women almost as much as he ever done, but it didn't always help. While so far he had kept from having actual intercourse with any of them since he had told McCoy he would try not to, the temptation to do so was becoming stronger. Fooling around with hands and even mouths didn't count, he'd decided, especially since it had been McCoy's idea that he keep on being seen publicly with women.
Blast it. Kirk shoved his pillow up and rolled over, trying to find a more comfortable position. Maybe these next few days of being together in public, even though it would be in Atlanta where no one they knew would see them, would convince McCoy that it would be all right to end the secrecy thing.
McCoy had a clinic shift that morning. Someone had to work then, and since he was to be gone for the next five days, he'd drawn a short straw for the holiday itself. So Kirk wouldn't see him till that afternoon. In the meantime, he'd sleep a bit longer, then pack and maybe work out at the gym. There were no combat classes over the break, but he might find someone to spar with there, or he could simply use the machines and perhaps swim a few laps.
The exercise had put him in a better mood by the time he met up with McCoy for dinner. They'd chosen a nice restaurant, wanting something better than the cafeteria for a change.
"How was the clinic today?" Kirk asked. "Not too busy, I hope."
"Not bad. The usual for the holiday; kids falling off new bikes and that sort of thing." His pinched expression belied the casualness of his words, however.
"Are you sure? You look kind of upset, the way you do when it's been a rough day there."
"Of course I'm sure," McCoy snapped, then visibly took hold of himself and sighed. "Sorry. I'm worried about tomorrow, that's all."
Since they were sitting in the corner of the restaurant with only civilians around, no one who would recognize either of them, Kirk reached across the table to grab McCoy's hand. "Don't. It'll be fine. If by some chance the worst happens and Jocelyn has taken Joanna somewhere else, we'll figure out a way to make sure you see her. I'll be there to help."
McCoy squeezed his hand briefly before pulling his own away. "I know. I appreciate that. I just really don't want it to have to happen, since there's such a short time to begin with."
Their food arrived then, and Kirk took a bite of roasted potato, having to suck in air to cool his mouth from the heat of it.
"Slow down, for pity's sake." McCoy sounded more like his usual bossy doctor self with that statement, and Kirk grinned at him.
"Too good to wait for. Like some other things I could mention." He loved the way that McCoy turned slightly pink when he made such insinuating remarks.
"Humph," McCoy grumbled.
They ate for a few minutes in silence, and Kirk refilled their glasses from the bottle of wine they'd ordered.
"It's a six a.m. shuttle," he said thoughtfully.
"Yes. We probably won't be able to check into the hotel right away, but I'm sure they'll hold our suitcases for us. I wanted to spend as much time with Joanna as I could, and besides, the day after Christmas? Every form of transportation is going to be totally full later in the day, but a super-early flight might not be too bad." McCoy stabbed up a piece of roast beef. "This is good. I'm glad you suggested this place."
"Thanks. I was thinking, since the flight's so early and we'll have to get to the shuttle port even earlier, maybe it would make sense for us to spend the night together. Neither of our roommates is here," Kirk pointed out.
McCoy chewed on his lip. "I don't know. There are still plenty of other people around, and it would look pretty compromising if someone saw us both coming out of one of our rooms together like that."
"Come on, it'll be four-thirty in the morning, even before the ass-crack of dawn, on the day after a holiday. What chance that someone would happen to be up and in, say, my hallway at exactly that moment? Walking together to catch a bus to the shuttle port wouldn't look strange at all." Kirk tried not to let his annoyance at McCoy's caution show too much. He didn't want to start off this trip with a quarrel.
"I suppose you're right. Have you packed yet?"
"Did it this afternoon."
"Then why don't you bring your bag to my room and stay with me. I still need to pack; didn't get a chance earlier what with being at the clinic almost all day."
Kirk grinned and ran his foot up along McCoy's calf to his thigh.
"What are you doing?" McCoy hissed. "Jim..."
"Just trying to make sure you have an... enjoyable... evening, starting as soon as possible. Consider it a gift. Although I do have something else for you, too. Here."
He pulled out the package he'd brought along in the pocket of his coat. It was not much bigger than the palm of his hand. He slid it across the table.
"I'll open it after we've finished eating." McCoy looked faintly embarrassed. "I have something for you, too, but I forgot to bring it. It's still in my room."
"That's fine." Kirk waved it off. "If you'd rather take yours back so we can open them together, we can do that."
"All right."
They took their time eating; there was no need to rush, and the food was excellent, in Kirk's opinion. He suggested having a drink after dinner, port or whatever McCoy might want, but McCoy refused.
"I'm pretty tired, and if I had another drink right now, it would probably finish me off. I have a bottle of good whiskey in my room, though, a present from one of my old medical colleagues. We could have some of that later on, if we wanted, and then I'll pack the bottle to take with us."
On the way to McCoy's room, they stopped by Kirk's, and he picked up his suitcase, remembering to grab his toothbrush and a couple of other last-minute things and stick them in too.
It was a foggy evening, and the campus was virtually deserted. Kirk saw only one other person, hurrying along on the far side of the quad. It was good to get out of the chilly night and into the bright warmth of McCoy's room.
"No, let's open the presents first," said Kirk, forestalling McCoy when he pulled out his suitcase and made as if to start packing immediately.
"Okay." McCoy plucked a box from his dresser and gave it to Kirk. "For you."
"You first."
Kirk watched as McCoy unwrapped his gift. He'd spotted it in the window of an antique store several weeks ago as he was heading for a bar, and gone back several days later to buy what he'd seen, thinking it the perfect present: not too large, potentially useful, and semi-medical in nature.
McCoy was turning the small metal tin over and over in his hand, looking quizzical. "Carter's Little Liver Pills?"
"One of those old patent nostrums of the nineteenth century," Kirk said. "They aren't any actual pills inside anymore –"
"That's a relief," interjected McCoy in a mutter.
"– but I figured you could use it to keep little doodads in, or just as a decoration. I liked the advertising logo, you see: 'What is life without a liver?'"
One corner of McCoy's mouth quirked. "You would. Thanks, Jim," he said sincerely. "It's a very nice gift. Now you."
Kirk unlooped the ribbon and tore away the wrapping paper to reveal –
"A first-aid kit?"
"Well, you haven't gotten into as many brawls lately, I admit, but I figured this would be useful to you just in case you did and I wasn't around to patch you up."
Was that a smirk on McCoy's face?
"Ah. Well. Nice to know that you have my well-being in mind," said Kirk a little dubiously, setting the box aside.
"You should look at it a little more closely, I think," said McCoy, his smirk widening.
Kirk picked it up again and realized that it was not at all a first aid kit.
He opened the box and began pulling out its contents. Two dozen condoms, in various colors, textures, and flavors; three different kinds of lube; a long strip of silky fabric that Kirk decided was probably supposed to be a blindfold; something that looked a bit like a baby's pacifier but was bright blue and far too large and according to the list on the box's cover must be an anal plug; and several other assorted bits and bobs.
"You kinky bastard," Kirk said with an enormous grin. He'd certainly never expected anything like this from McCoy.
"Yes. Well," said McCoy gruffly. He looked a little embarrassed. "It's not – I wasn't trying to say that you're only interested in sex, you know. I just thought you might like it."
With a grin, Kirk pointed at his crotch, where his dick was now creating a noticeable bulge against the uniform fabric. "I like it. Even if we don't exactly need the condoms, given that both of us are vaccinated against all the usual suspects." He pulled out several of the foil-wrapped packets and looked at them. "Although they might have their uses; this one is ribbed, 'to enhance your partner's sensations,' and this one is supposed to taste like strawberry. If you like artificial chemical strawberries, that is." He made a face. "I don't. But maybe you want to try it."
McCoy shook his head. "Not strawberry."
He took the last couple of steps he needed to let him put his arms around Kirk. "Merry Christmas, Jim," he murmured, his hands tugging at Kirk's clothes.
"Merry Christmas to you, too." Kirk patted McCoy's ass. "Maybe not the condoms, but we could try out some of that new lube tonight, and, um, that scarf thing. As a blindfold."
"On who?"
"Me."
For all that Kirk had had, he readily admitted, a lot of sex with a lot of different women – and now one man – it had mostly been sex of a pretty straightforward kind. Sure, he'd had plenty of oral sex, and anal a few times, and he'd even gotten off between a woman's tits more than once, but he'd never gone in for the kinky stuff like handcuffs or sex toys or any of that kind of thing. With McCoy, though, it wasn't that he got bored with the things they did, more that he wanted to explore a lot more, and felt like maybe he could say so and McCoy wouldn't judge him for it.
"Blindfold you?" McCoy touched the skin just beside Kirk's eye, stroking it lightly. Kirk shivered and closed his eyes. "We can do that."
"Let me take off my tunic, then you can blindfold me and do whatever you want," said Kirk, anticipation rising inside him.
The fabric was cool and smooth against his face, folded over and tied firmly enough that he couldn't see, but arranged so that it didn't interfere at all with his breathing. He could feel McCoy's hands on him, caressing his chest, moving down to unfasten his trousers.
"Lift your right foot."
Kirk did, and his shoe and sock were removed. He put it down again and lifted the left before McCoy had to ask. The loosened trousers had slipped down his thighs already. He shifted so that they fell to his ankles, and stepped out of them. McCoy tugged his underpants off then, and Kirk stood naked and suddenly a little nervous.
"Come here." McCoy guided him the few steps to the bed. "Just stretch out here for a minute."
Kirk lay down, reclining on his right side, propping his head up with his elbow, his head cocked toward the sound of McCoy's movements even though he couldn't see. He heard the faint rustle of fabric as McCoy undressed too, and then the creak and dip of the mattress as McCoy crawled onto it.
He expected a kiss, and he got one – just not in quite the way he anticipated. Instead McCoy's mouth engulfed his dick in wet heat, sucking firmly, so that Kirk groaned and fumbled to find McCoy's head and touch him.
"No," McCoy mumbled around Kirk's dick. Then he stopped sucking long enough to say more clearly, "This is about you tonight. Don't worry about me. Okay?"
"Okay," Kirk agreed, but he privately determined that at least once while they were in Atlanta, he was going to do something special for McCoy. He'd already decided that he would let McCoy fuck him for the first time tomorrow, but maybe he would do something else one of those nights too. He let himself relax, then, concentrating on the sensations that coursed through him as McCoy worked him over with hands and mouth, touching and kissing him everywhere. The blindfold really did heighten his responses, just as he'd hoped; since he never knew what McCoy was going to do next or where, he found that he was more focused, more aware of each caress.
After the initial minute or two, McCoy had left Kirk's dick mostly alone except for a few glancing touches. Kirk was tempted to fondle himself, but when he moved his hand there, McCoy slapped it away gently. "You'll be getting what you want soon enough." Kirk grumbled, but acquiesced.
McCoy spent a few more minutes teasing him before Kirk felt himself straddled. There was a pause, and some small sounds, before Kirk's dick was lifted and he felt McCoy's ass open up around him.
They both groaned, McCoy a beat behind Kirk, and then there was delicious friction as McCoy started to rock back and forth.
Focused on the feel of McCoy's ass around his cock, Kirk cried out when his left nipple was unexpectedly twisted. He arched his back, and the pinching fingers were replaced by McCoy's tongue, soothing him.
"Ah fuck, fuck Bones, please, faster," Kirk ground out, unable to do much more than strain upward with McCoy's weight pinning him in place.
Instead McCoy paused, and when he resumed his motion it was more slowly than before.
"Oh, no. This is gonna be something you'll remember."
"I'll remember anyway," Kirk grumbled. "I could – oh fuck, clench like that again – I could probably name you off every time we've had sex so far, if I tried."
"Could you now." McCoy's voice was a low growl. Kirk felt his weight shift before McCoy's lips found his, kissing him urgently, his tongue sliding between Kirk's lips to plunge deeply into his mouth. The tempo of their hips slowed as they both concentrated on the kiss, but when McCoy began to move once again, it was faster, if not quite as rapid as Kirk would have liked, not enough yet to let him reach an orgasm.
"Jim..." McCoy's hand touched his face, and he turned his head to kiss the palm.
"Bones," he said softly. "Yes."
He trusted McCoy, and that was really what it boiled down to, wasn't it? Trusted him to be there, unconditionally, even if they didn't always agree. McCoy had never let him down in anything that mattered, was the cool head to Jim's hot one if there was any kind of trouble. If McCoy wanted to draw out this encounter, make Kirk wait for his pleasure, Kirk would go along with it.
He raised his hands and found McCoy's thighs, sliding up them to McCoy's dick, still somewhat firm even with Kirk's up his ass. He didn't need to see it to fondle it, feeling the heat and heaviness, the moisture leaking from the tip. McCoy's balls were bouncing against Kirk's stomach, and he waited for an instant where he could cup his hand around them, tugging gently.
"Oh, that's fine," murmured McCoy. His movements were becoming a little more erratic now, either because his legs were tiring from the constant flexion, or because he was distracted by Kirk's hands caressing his cock, it didn't matter, and perversely the unpredictability was pushing Kirk up the peak of sensation more rapidly.
"Yeah, oh yeah, come on," Kirk urged, stroking McCoy a little faster. He was fully hard again now, his dick pulsing with the blood racing through it.
Suddenly McCoy stopped moving and Kirk's hands were pulled away. "Damn it, Jim, I said this was going to be about you, not me right now."
Kirk did his best to smirk, although it was hard to tell how effective it was when he couldn't see McCoy's face. "Distracted?"
"Humph."
"Besides, it makes me feel good to make you feel good, you know." Kirk would have raised his eyebrows, but there was no point when they were hidden behind the blindfold.
"Well, if you put it that way." McCoy let go of Kirk's hands, and he immediately resumed his caresses, able to imagine what McCoy's dick must look like now, what expression might be on his face, after having seen them for the last several months.
Almost imperceptibly, McCoy increased his tempo, still erratic, and the heat and urgency in Kirk's balls and dick began to build up, moving inexorably to a peak. He cried out, "Bones, oh fuck, Bones!" and came, spurting deep into McCoy's body.
"Jim, Jim." McCoy's hand closed over Kirk's on his cock, encouraging him to pump faster, harder, and then McCoy's ass tightened, milking the last drops from Kirk's dick as his semen spattered over Kirk's chest. McCoy slumped forward, his weight seeming heavier now that Kirk wasn't distracted, and after a moment Kirk poked him.
"Roll over, you big lunk. I'm not your pillow."
McCoy grumbled, but moved, sliding off Kirk's now-softening cock. "Shall I take this off?" he asked, touching Kirk's cheek below the blindfold. "How did you like it?"
"Yes, off," Kirk agreed. He blinked as light returned. "I liked it; a very good gift. Maybe you'll want to try it sometime too?"
"Maybe," McCoy agreed. "But right now I'd better clean up and get my suitcase packed. Early start tomorrow, remember."
"How could I forget?"
Kirk got up too, to wash the stickiness away before he slid back into bed to watch McCoy do his packing. Some time in the middle of that, listening to McCoy hum tunelessly, he fell asleep.
#13: Failure of Words | #15: Time Will Tell