Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2009-08-26 08:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | star trek fic hotm, star trek fic kirk/mccoy |
Star Trek fic: Failure of Words [Kirk/McCoy, adult]
Title: Failure of Words
Author: celandineb
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: adult
Length: 3647 words
Warnings: 69, rimming reference
Summary: McCoy accepts a somewhat unexpected offer from Kirk.
Note: Thirteenth in the "Heart of the Matter" series. As usual, can be read alone although it probably makes more sense in the context of earlier installments.
"What are you doing over the winter break?"
McCoy looked over at Kirk. They had managed an hour for sex earlier in the evening, but Kirk wasn't quite sure when Sidhu would be back, so now they were studying together – more or less. This was the third time Kirk had interrupted him. At least it was a meaningful question this time, although since it was only the last week of November, not tremendously urgent, not by McCoy's standards.
"I'm going to visit Joanna. I hope," he added.
"Why 'you hope'?" Kirk frowned.
"I've booked a shuttle spot and made a hotel reservation. I've even sent a message to tell Jocelyn when I'll be there, but I don't put it past her to find a way to take Joanna out of town exactly then, even though the divorce settlement provided that I should be able to see Joanna regularly. She's done it before. Last time Jocelyn's mother fell very conveniently 'ill', and Jocelyn insisted that Joanna had to visit her grandmother in case it was the last time she saw her."
"That's not totally unreasonable, I guess."
"Huh. If she'd really been sick, yes. I called in a favor from a friend and found out that Evangeline was having a routine second mammogram because there had been an unidentified mass in one breast the first time. It turned out to be nothing at all, really, a harmless cyst, and absolutely nothing to warrant taking Joanna to Mobile to see her – and Jocelyn would have known that. So this time when I contacted Jocelyn I pointed out that I do have visitation rights, and that, given that I'm likely to be leaving the planet within about six months of this proposed visit, I didn't think the court would look kindly on it if she prevented Joanna from seeing me." McCoy shrugged. "It could work, it could backfire. Jocelyn always was a stubborn bitch."
"Bitch doesn't sound like the half of it," Kirk muttered. "Where do they live? That little podunk hometown of yours?"
McCoy shook his head. "No, one of the super ritzy walled suburbs of Atlanta. Joanna's new husband is someone who can provide her with everything material she's always wanted to have. I was never more than a poor country doctor."
"She left you because of that?" Kirk sounded outraged on his behalf, and McCoy gave a weary bark of laughter.
"Not so much that I was a poor country doctor, as that I had no aspirations to become anything more. Plus she felt that I loved doctoring more than I loved her." He shrugged. "There was some truth to that."
"Well, I'm glad she was such a stupid greedy cow, or you wouldn't be here." Kirk smirked knowingly at him, and McCoy shifted in his chair.
"I suppose so."
"I know so. Anyway, to get back to my original question, if you're going off to see Joanna, or at least try to see her, would you like some company on the trip?"
McCoy looked at him. Yes, Kirk was serious about the suggestion. "Don't you have anything better to do for the holiday?"
"Not really. Last I heard from Sam, he'd moved with his family off planet to the Deneva colony, not exactly within visiting distance, and I have no idea where my mother is assigned just now."
Kirk said that last with a commendable lack of rancor; McCoy knew that Kirk's relationship to his mother was, to say the least, problematic, although he hadn't yet probed that particular psychological wound.
"There's no one I'd rather spend the holidays with than you, Bones. I was going to suggest we take a little trip together, actually, maybe go down to Big Sur or Monterey or somewhere not too far, but..." He trailed off, blue eyes open wide as he gazed at McCoy.
They'd been discreet enough for the past, damn, had it really been six weeks and more already? Kirk had flirted with women almost as much as ever, even gone home with a few, but he'd sworn blind to McCoy that he hadn't let things move beyond some kissing and caressing, and McCoy believed him. He still was reluctant to make their involvement public here at the Academy, but how likely was it that anyone would see them together in Georgia, on the other side of the continent?
"It's likely to be boring as hell," he warned. "Joanna's not quite nine, you know, so my outings with her will be to places like the zoo or the movies."
"No problem. I was that age once myself." A shadow crossed Kirk's face, but his voice remained light. "More recently than you, old man."
McCoy snorted. "In some ways you still are nine, Jim."
"Come on, you know that's why you like me. Hey, what'll you do if you get there and Jocelyn has pulled her stunt of dragging Joanna out of town again?"
"I'll find out where they've gone and follow them," said McCoy grimly. "One thing to miss a visit when there would be other chances, but not this time. If I have to, I'll get a court injunction. I may not be a Starfleet medical officer yet, but Jocelyn can hardly claim that being in the Academy makes me an unfit parent."
Kirk gave a slow nod. "I'm with you. You said you already booked your flight?"
"Yes."
"Forward the info to me, then, and I'll see if I can get on the same one. If you give me the hotel information, or no, wait, you'll have to change that reservation, unless you want separate rooms?"
McCoy hesitated for only an instant before he shook his head. "But I'll ask for a room with two beds, in case Joanna sees it."
"Okay." There was an edge of disappointment in Kirk's voice.
"I definitely want you to meet her, though," said McCoy, pleased when that suggestion made Kirk look happier again. "You don't have to spend all your time with us or anything, but I appreciate your wanting to come along, and I want to spend time with you too, it's just that Joanna has to be my priority on this trip."
"I understand."
Kirk got up and came over to McCoy, kneeling beside his chair and kissing him. "But at night I get you all to myself."
McCoy caught his breath. That was as close to a statement that he was serious about McCoy as he'd ever heard Kirk make. "Me, too. We'll have four nights together; I can't take off more than five consecutive days from the clinic."
"Four nights, hm? I bet we can have a lot of fun in four nights."
They kissed again, and things might have progressed further, but a noise at the door alerted them to break apart, Kirk leaping back to his own bed where he'd been studying as Sidhu came into the room.
When they met for their usual lunch that Friday, Kirk said that he had managed to secure a seat on the same Atlanta shuttle on which McCoy had his, leaving on December 26th and returning on the 30th.
"Good." McCoy took another bite of his soup – a seafood chowder, and surprisingly much better than the usual cafeteria fare – and changed the subject. He didn't want to discuss their holiday travel plans here. "How's that leadership class of yours going? 'The Psychology of Command' or whatever bullshit name it has?"
Kirk leaned forward and spoke enthusiastically. "I'm working on the paper now. You know the strange thing about Starfleet? They keep amazingly detailed records, and they're always analyzing them, but only in certain ways. Usually it's an analysis focused on just one ship, or even officer, or at most on a single type of maneuver or engagement. There's relatively little synthesis or comparative analysis, although I can't understand why because you'd think that would be useful. But it's as if the senior officers of the fleet have certain patterns in mind, and all they want to do is compare reality with those fixed ideas, rather than rethink them altogether. So what I'm trying to do in this paper is that kind of broader overview and analysis that seems to be lacking."
He nodded sharply and sat back again, picking up his apple and taking an enormous crunching bite, grinning at McCoy as he chewed.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" McCoy asked. He knew what Kirk meant about the kind of narrow thinking that characterized much of Starfleet's high command; for all they saw themselves as innovative, they weren't, really. A tendency toward inertia, toward sticking to what had been done successfully before, had crept in. Someone who challenged that complacency was unlikely to be welcomed with open arms, and if Kirk wanted rapid promotion, he would need to be circumspect. Not that anything McCoy advised was likely to persuade Kirk of that necessity.
"It'll be fine," said Kirk in the breezy tone that McCoy was learning he used when he wasn't quite as sure of himself as he would like to seem. "It's just a research paper, that's all. I've been able to read some interesting articles while writing it."
McCoy shrugged. "It's your funeral."
"I doubt that." Kirk laughed. "I'm more worried that I'll be marked down for going way over the assigned length than anything else. I don't know how strict this professor is about that."
"You could ask."
"No, because if I do and she says that the upper limit is firm, then I'll have to butcher my argument to get the paper down to the required length. If I don't ask, and she marks me down for going over, I might be able to persuade her to change her mind." Kirk winked.
"You're incorrigible, Jim."
They had both finished eating, and it was nearly time for the next class. As they carried their trays back to the hatch, Kirk asked in an undertone, "Are you busy tonight?"
"No, not after six. I just have a shift tomorrow morning at the clinic," McCoy said.
"There's a party in Christlieb Hall."
McCoy shook his head. "I don't think I'm up for anything like that."
He wasn't much of one for parties, hadn't been since his undergraduate days, and if he went to a party with Kirk, either he'd be annoyed with Kirk for flirting with all of the women present, or if by some miracle Kirk restrained himself, he'd be worried that someone would guess the reason why. A lose-lose situation altogether.
"What I was going to say, Bones, if you'd let me finish, was that Sidhu plans to go to this one, so we'd have my room to ourselves for a good couple of hours for sure. If you want to come over."
They were out on the central quad by now, but Kirk had kept his voice low enough that none of the passing cadets could have heard him.
"Just send me a message to let me know, or tell me at dinner. I'm gonna be late for class if I don't get moving."
Kirk thumped McCoy on the shoulder and dashed off.
More slowly, McCoy headed for his own class. He didn't have any intention of saying no. They didn't get to spend as much time together as McCoy would have liked, after all. If he were willing to be public about their relationship, it would be easier, but he still felt apprehensive about doing that. Maybe after the winter break? By then they would have been together for three months or so, and it would be a new semester, no immediate pressure of exams to add stress to the situation. He'd think about it, anyhow, although maybe waiting until after graduation would be even better, assuming that they made it that long.
He met up with Kirk and some of their other friends for dinner, and managed to get sufficiently involved in a conversation with Kirk about medical rescue protocols that it was only natural he would go back with to Kirk's room to continue it. He was rather proud of himself for that.
Sidhu had returned a few minutes earlier. When there was a lull in the conversation, he asked Kirk, "Planning to come to the party? It's a big one, you should come too, doc."
"I have to be at the clinic early tomorrow, I'm afraid. My patients wouldn't thank me if I were half-asleep," McCoy said.
"Kirk? How about you?"
With a shrug, Kirk said, "Maybe. Bones is being my conscience tonight to get me to do some work, but maybe I'll come along later."
"Do. You know you're always the life of any party." Sidhu smiled. "I'll see you later then, here if not there."
As soon as Sidhu had left, Kirk stretched out on his bed and grinned at McCoy. "So, come here."
"Don't you want to take some clothes off first?" McCoy raised his eyebrows. "I feel like a teenager making out in the back seat when we're both still dressed."
"Maybe you need to feel like a teenager more often, did you think of that? I'll tell you what. How about a little striptease? You do one for me, I'll do one for you. I'm sure I can find some, hm, suitable music, if you need inspiration."
"You're ridiculous, you know that, right?" McCoy grumbled.
"It'll be fun," wheedled Kirk. "You need to loosen up. I'll even go first to put you in the mood."
"Okay, fine."
Kirk bounced off the bed again, shooing McCoy to sit down in his place. He had the computer start playing a musical selection that was almost a parody of what McCoy would expect someone to strip to; real bump and grind stuff. He dimmed the lights too before taking up a pose where McCoy could watch him.
Kirk was good at this. Very good. McCoy didn't let himself think about how many times Kirk might have done it before, or for which other partners. Only someone as self-confident as Kirk generally acted could strip down to such cheesy music without even a shred of embarrassment perceptible. He managed to make even the act of removing his shoes erotic, before going on to start exposing actual flesh. Cadet uniform was less than ideal for such a routine, given that there were no buttons or other complicated fastenings to them, yet Kirk managed somehow. McCoy palmed his dick through his trousers as he watched, and felt the sweat break out on his forehead when Kirk wiggled his ass just so.
"Warm in here."
Kirk flashed him a smile. "That's the idea."
Too soon it was over, leaving Kirk naked and sporting a substantial erection. McCoy's mouth watered at the sight, but when he would have beckoned Kirk over and started sucking him off, Kirk shook his head.
"First you have to strip down too. That was the deal."
It was less awkward than it might have been, since Kirk had just done the same and was watching with visible enjoyment, but McCoy knew that his efforts to be sexy simply didn't have the same élan Kirk's did. Nevertheless he managed, even shimmying his hips a few times to the music, which Kirk had set to repeat on a loop.
"Very nice, Bones," Kirk murmured as McCoy finished. "I bet you've never done that before, have you?"
McCoy shook his head. "Nothing that deliberately..." he groped for the appropriate word.
"Lewd?" Kirk's eyes glinted. "Erotic?"
"Yeah." McCoy cleared his throat and lay down on the bed next to Kirk. "Although I think any fair-minded observer would describe your efforts as far more erotic than mine."
"Matter of perspective." Kirk scooted over slightly so that their mouths could meet, and by making judicious use of lips and tongue, kept McCoy from disparaging his own abilities any further just then.
Even after six weeks it still amazed McCoy that he was sleeping with Kirk. The preceding two-plus years had convinced him thoroughly that it would never happen, and it still seemed like a dream from which he might wake at any moment. Although he had to admit there was nothing very dreamlike about the feel of Kirk's dick in his hand or mouth or ass. Mostly they stuck with hands and mouths to get each other off; there was always the possibility that Matthews or Sidhu might return unexpectedly early, and while getting caught at all would be awkward, getting caught while Kirk reamed his ass was about the most humiliating thing McCoy could think of.
He slid his hands along Kirk's back, down to his butt cheeks, pulling their hips close so that their cocks rested side by side. Kirk hummed contentedly, rocking himself against McCoy even as he kissed him again.
"Wanna suck you off while you do me," he murmured then. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," McCoy agreed.
Kirk flipped himself around on the bed. "Scoot this way a little," he ordered. "I need to have some room for my legs."
That left McCoy's feet dangling off the edge of the bed, so they wriggled around diagonally to accommodate both of their bodies as best as possible. He'd only done 69 with a man once before, and it hadn't worked out very well, but he made it a point to cooperate with pretty much anything that Kirk suggested. The angle was unfamiliar, but certainly doable. McCoy licked away the drop or two of fluid welling up in Kirk's slit before sealing his lips around the head more firmly, using his tongue to caress the spongy-firm tissue. Kirk groaned.
"Fuck, but that's good." Then he licked along McCoy's shaft from root to tip and blew over the wetness, causing McCoy's hips to jolt involuntarily.
McCoy groaned. This was why he had been dubious about sucking each other off simultaneously; what Kirk was doing felt too damn good, and it distracted him from reciprocating in the way that he felt he ought to. Though, if the sounds Kirk was making as McCoy caressed his balls was any indication, maybe he wasn't doing so badly. He pinched a few of the hairs at the base of Kirk's dick and tugged them, provoking a gasp and a thrust of the hips from Kirk, but he'd expected such a reaction and was prepared, so he didn't gag when the head of Kirk's dick hit the back of his throat, only relaxed it. Then he let his fingers slide back, behind Kirk's balls, drawn up tight in their hairy pouch, and back to the tight dry pucker of his anus. One fingertip titillated the sensitive flesh even as he slurped his way back up Kirk's length to lavish more attention on his dickhead.
Kirk was pressing wet kisses up and down McCoy's length, almost nibbling, and McCoy felt the occasional graze of a tooth, which only made it hotter. Kirk usually had very good control, and the thought that what he himself was doing was probably the cause of some loss of that control pleased McCoy rather more than perhaps it should have. Kirk had wetted his finger and slipped that inside McCoy, too, moving it in circles, gently stretching McCoy out, and nudging his prostate every little while. Fuck, but it felt good. McCoy stopped sucking Kirk for a moment to push himself down against Kirk's finger.
With a wet pop, Kirk's lips slid off McCoy's dick, and Kirk said, "What is it, Bones, do you want me to fuck you?"
McCoy started to nod, realized that the movement might not be clear from Kirk's view, and relinquished Kirk's dick to say hoarsely, "Yes, dammit, yes."
"All right."
Kirk moved, rolling away, then came back and McCoy felt the cool slickness of lube. He turned slightly onto his stomach, drawing the knee of his upper leg in toward his chest to give Kirk better access, and groaned as he felt Kirk's dick nudging him wider open.
"Yes, fuck, come on," he begged, and Kirk obliged, pushing all the way into him in one smooth slow thrust. His hand came around and found McCoy's dick, pumping it in time with his thrusts.
"You like this so much, wonder how you'd like it if I put it my tongue in there," said Kirk, biting at McCoy's shoulder.
"Too dirty," McCoy managed to gasp.
"Not if we cleaned up thoroughly first." Kirk nipped him again. "Bet you'd love it."
McCoy bet he would, too, and he certainly couldn't muster sufficient coherency to protest further just then.
"Gonna let you fuck me one of these days too." Kirk quickened his stroke, hips and hand both moving fast and hard now.
McCoy whimpered. He'd been more than satisfied with everything they had done already, but the idea of Kirk accepting that level of intimacy, letting McCoy inside his body, overwhelmed him. He came, semen spurting hot onto his belly and Kirk's fingers and the sheets. He could feel his ass pulse and contract around Kirk's dick, and Kirk gave one last deep thrust and stilled, panting hot breath onto the skin of McCoy's back.
"Damn, Bones," Kirk said presently, pulling out. A trickle of moisture followed, dripping down the back of McCoy's thigh.
"Sorry. Didn't think I'd finish that fast." McCoy felt a little embarrassed.
"No big deal." Kirk's body moved, and McCoy deduced a shrug. "It was hot."
McCoy wanted to ask if Kirk had meant what he said, but to ask would seem as if he didn't trust him, and that wasn't really the case. It was more that he had a hard time ever believing that things would really go well for him. So instead he turned over to put them face to face and stroked his thumb along Kirk's cheek, trying to say in that gesture the emotions he wasn't yet prepared to put into words.
#12: The Best of It | #14: A Question of Trust