Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2009-10-16 08:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | star trek fic hotm, star trek fic kirk/mccoy |
Star Trek fic: Taking Advantage [Kirk/McCoy, adult]
Title: Taking Advantage
Author: celandineb
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: adult
Length: 3448 words
Warnings: rimming
Summary: It's the next-to-last day of their visit, and McCoy still hasn't figured out how to let Kirk meet his ex-wife.
Note: Seventeenth in the "Heart of the Matter" series.
One day left in Atlanta after this, and McCoy still hadn't quite figured out how to carry out his promise to Kirk that he could meet Jocelyn.
He worried at the thought as he waited for their dinner to arrive. Joanna had asked to go to a pizza parlor, one where the food was at best mediocre but where there were all sorts of games to entertain the customers. At least three birthdays were being celebrated in various corners, and the restaurant was filled with running and shrieking children. Kirk had apparently reverted to his own childhood and was competing avidly with Joanna on one of the games; McCoy couldn't see what it was from their table. He sipped at his weak beer, now warm, and scowled. Basically there were two options: take Kirk up to the door of Jocelyn's house, having ascertained from Joanna in advance that her mother would be there; or ask Jocelyn to come out and meet them someplace. Neither option appealed to him. Wherever this encounter took place, Jocelyn was as likely as Joanna had been to see through any attempt to pretend that he and Kirk were merely cadet buddies.
He wasn't ashamed of the relationship, he reminded himself. There was nothing in it to be ashamed of. He simply disliked the idea of his ex-wife knowing about his current lover, that was all, and he would have felt the same way if Kirk had been a woman. Privacy meant a great deal to McCoy.
Sighing, he decided that when Kirk came back to the table – their pizza ought to arrive at any moment now – he would quietly ask if it made any difference to Kirk whether he met Jocelyn at her home or elsewhere. McCoy doubted he would be so lucky as to have Kirk change his mind and not want to meet her at all.
Their server brought the pizzas. McCoy stood, leaning awkwardly over the table, and waved at Joanna and Kirk. Joanna spotted him first and tugged at Kirk's sleeve to alert him that their dinner was ready.
"I can't believe you beat me," Kirk was saying to Joanna as they walked up. He gave McCoy a grin, unfazed by the fact that he'd lost a game to someone less than half his age. "She has amazing reflexes and a great grasp of spatial tactics, too. You should think about pilot training," he added to Joanna. "Not right away, of course, but when you're old enough."
"Really?" Joanna beamed at him. She grabbed a slice of pizza and took a huge bite, opening her mouth again immediately to suck in air. "Hot," she explained in a muffled voice.
"Does your school offer a pre-pilot training program?" McCoy asked. He'd dutifully looked at all the information Jocelyn had sent when she had enrolled Joanna there, but didn't recall any details, only that it had a good program in science. From what he could tell the school did not encourage cutthroat competition among its students, an attitude he approved.
"I'm not sure," Joanna admitted. She took another bite and scrunched up her face as she chewed. "I think so, as an after-school option. Pat O'Connell is always talking about how he's going to be a pilot someday, and he doesn't take the regular bus home on Tuesdays and Thursdays."
"I'll try to find out and tell your mother that you're interested," McCoy promised her.
Joanna wrinkled her nose again. "She won't think it's ladylike enough, I bet. She wanted me to take the art enrichment program this year, but I'm terrible at drawing. That's why I'm learning the viola instead."
"Do you like it?" Kirk asked.
She shook her head, chewing. When she finished and swallowed, she said, "Not really. I'm not very good at it either. But it's better than art would have been, I guess."
"Jim, do you know any arguments that would help persuade Jocelyn that pre-pilot training is a suitable thing for a girl?"
"I'm sure I can come up with a few things, yeah." Confidence practically rolled off Kirk in waves. "To start with, did you know that over half of Starfleet pilots are women?"
"Really?" McCoy's surprise showed in his voice. "I hadn't realized that, no. I wonder why?"
Kirk shrugged. "I suppose they do better on the entry exams. It's not a totally skewed number, something like sixty percent, but enough that it's noticeable. More men in some of the other areas of study balance things out. There's a long history of women pilots, actually; most of the time they've been outnumbered by men, but there were some important early aviatrixes like Amelia Earhart and Jean Batten and Amy Johnson. So it's not as if Joanna would be doing anything really outlandish." He scratched his cheek. "Do you think it would help if I talked to your mom, too?" he asked Joanna, who nodded.
"She doesn't always like to listen to Daddy, but you're cute. She'd listen to you." Then Joanna's eyes went wide and she covered her mouth with her hands. "Oops. I probably shouldn't have said that, should I?"
Kirk laughed. "Probably not, no, but it's good to know someone's weakness if you're trying to persuade them of something, so even if it wasn't diplomatic, it's helpful."
"Joanna, do you know if your mom will be home tomorrow night? I get the impression that she and Brian have a lot of social obligations, but if she'll be around, when we take you home we could talk to her, maybe," said McCoy.
Nodding, Joanna said, "They have a big party the day after tomorrow, and I heard Mama telling Brian that she wanted to stay home tomorrow night. He always works late at his office if they're not doing anything, though."
McCoy wasn't sure whether the absence of Jocelyn's husband would prove to be good or bad, but he nodded. "All right then, sweetheart, we'll just drop you off tonight, and you can tell your mother that I'd like to stop in and talk to her for a little while tomorrow evening, before you and I say goodbye for this visit. Jim will come along too, but you don't need to mention that if you don't want to."
If Jocelyn wanted to make an excuse to avoid seeing him, she could, but avoidance had never been her style and he didn't expect her to. He glanced at Kirk, who nodded and smiled.
"More pizza?" Kirk asked, and suited actions to words by helping himself to another slice.
In the taxi, after they'd taken Joanna back home, Kirk nudged McCoy. "How about going out tonight to that jazz place I learned about, since you weren't up for it yesterday?"
"Okay," McCoy said after a moment's reflection. Kirk had again that day volunteered to let McCoy spend time alone with Joanna, so doing what he wanted this evening seemed only fair. "I guess we don't really even need to go back to the hotel first, if you remember the name of the place and the cab can get us there."
"I do." Kirk leaned forward to tell the driver about the change in destination. "It's still fairly early, so the music may not have started yet by the time we get there, but we can have a drink in the meantime."
"We can."
The club was called the Blue Note, and managed to convey an early twentieth-century feel, despite lacking the pall of cigarette smoke that doubtless would have hung in the air during that era. As expected, the musicians were not yet playing, although a piano, drums, a saxophone on a chair, and a bull fiddle lying on its side in one corner testified to their imminent appearance. The early hour also meant that McCoy and Kirk were able to secure a table in a good spot, about halfway across the room from the band where they should be able to hear the music, but still carry on a conversation if they wanted. McCoy ordered bourbon, but Kirk opted for beer tonight.
It wasn't – strictly speaking – jazz that the group played, McCoy realized after fifteen or twenty minutes. They played in a jazz style, certainly, and improvised beautifully, tossing the melody from one instrument to another, but he'd already recognized one ancient pop standard as well as a couple of jazz classics. Regardless, it was well-played, so he really couldn't complain. On the other side of the table, Kirk was nodding his head gently in time with the drum beat.
It still blew McCoy away that Kirk was here. Here in Atlanta specifically, but here in the sense of together, a couple at all, too. A year ago, hell, less than six months ago, he had pretty much accepted that nothing of the sort would ever be possible. He was glad that he'd been proven wrong.
"Jim," he said, just loud enough to be heard over the strains of a tune he recognized but couldn't name.
"Hm?" Kirk turned his head to give his attention to McCoy. God, he was gorgeous. Not in some classical-statuary or even film star way; more that he was supremely relaxed and confident in his own appeal. Their waitress had already flirted with him, and Kirk had flirted right back in automatic fashion, but McCoy could tell that his heart wasn't in it. All the warmth of his smile was saved for McCoy.
"What is it, Bones?" Kirk asked after McCoy had failed to speak for a moment.
"I..." McCoy's throat closed. He couldn't say "I love you" here in public, not even with the music of the band to mask his words from anyone else. He settled for reaching out to clasp Kirk's hand instead. "I'm really enjoying this. Thanks for suggesting it."
"I'm glad." Kirk squeezed his hand in return and interlaced their fingers as he turned back to watch the band.
McCoy pushed away the thought that they had only one more day here together; it might be harder to find time together back at Starfleet Academy, but they'd manage as they'd done before. He still felt uncertain about making their relationship public, although now that it had been going on for more than two months, he was less concerned about looking like a fool, even if – as he still half-expected – it didn't last too much longer. Hell, unless by some miracle they were assigned to the same ship, he didn't see how it would be possible to stay together beyond graduation. Kirk just wasn't the sort to stay celibate for months, let alone years, and honestly, McCoy couldn't blame him for that. He scowled, trying to concentrate on the here and now. They'd stay for a while longer, he supposed, but then they could go back to the hotel and take advantage of the lack of other roommates, as they had their previous nights here. Just thinking about it was getting his dick interested. He felt like he was a horny teenager again. Not a bad thing, maybe, since it let him keep up with Kirk in bed... more or less anyway.
They ended up staying through the second set. Emerging from the building, they discovered that it had started to drizzle lightly, but decided to walk a few blocks back to the hotel anyway, since it wasn't very cold.
"I hope it's not raining tomorrow," Kirk said, squinting up at the clouds, which glowed in the reflected light of the city.
"Why?"
"I was going to suggest that the three of us could see the city's botanical gardens. I thought I might go today by myself, but it seemed like something that would be fun to do with Joanna for a couple of hours." Kirk shrugged. "I'm sure there are plenty of other options, if it is raining."
"The botanical gardens would be a good idea, though, if it isn't." McCoy glanced sideways at Kirk. "You've been really great with Joanna, you know, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate that."
Kirk kicked at a loose stone on the sidewalk, sending it skittering away. "Well, thanks. She's a great kid. I'm glad I had the chance to meet her."
They turned into the hotel lobby and went up to their room.
"What do you want to do tonight?" McCoy embraced Kirk and murmured the question into his neck, following it up with a kiss.
"How about... I was gonna say, how about anything you want, but I think you want me to say exactly what I want tonight, don't you?"
"Yeah." McCoy kissed him again. "We could do something for me tomorrow, maybe."
Kirk gave him a smile that was pure porn. "Hm. How about if I see how long I can keep you on the edge, begging for it, before I let you come?"
McCoy's breath caught. "All right," he agreed hoarsely. It didn't seem like this would be something for Kirk, but if that was what he wanted, McCoy wasn't going to say no.
"First I'm gonna undress you," Kirk informed him, and proceeded to do so, slowly, kissing or licking or biting almost every inch of McCoy's bare skin as he exposed it. By the time he was finished, McCoy's dick was rock hard.
"Now sit there," Kirk gestured at the bed, "and watch me."
It wasn't quite as effective a striptease that as Kirk had done once before – no music, after all, to set the mood – but it was still pretty damned impressive to watch Kirk practically make love to each item of his own clothing as he removed it. McCoy started to wrap his left hand around his aching prick, but Kirk shook his head at him.
"No way, Bones. You don't get to come till I make you come, and it's gonna be a good long while till then."
McCoy sighed, but let his hand drop back to his side as he continued watching Kirk's bump and grind. The way Kirk shimmied his ass reminded of McCoy of how it felt to fuck him, that sweet hot channel embracing his dick tightly; he'd been relieved that Kirk had seemed to enjoy it, but maybe even more relieved that he expressed a preference for topping, on the whole. McCoy loved being under Kirk, the way all of Kirk's attention was focused on him then, as if there were nothing else in the world. He swallowed hard as Kirk unfastened his trousers and let them drop to reveal his briefs, white fabric drawn tight over the bulge of his dick, visibly dark with blood even through the cotton. Kirk ran his palm over it a few times, caressing, and a damp spot appeared near the waistband.
"Jim..." McCoy heard his own voice come out in what was almost a whimper, all unintended, but fuck, he couldn't help it, Kirk was such a tease.
"Want something? You've gotta tell me what you want, then." Kirk grinned at him, but there was an edge in his voice that suggested to McCoy that Kirk might be almost as desperate as he himself was starting to feel.
"I want you to fuck me." McCoy scooted backward on the bed, looking at Kirk, letting all the pleading he felt flow through his gaze.
The blue of Kirk's eyes was reduced to a narrow ring around his dilated pupils. "I'll get the lube." He opened the drawer where they'd stashed it and pulled out the little bottle, but instead of coming straight back to the bed, he said, "Hang on a minute," and disappeared into the bathroom. McCoy heard water running, and frowned a little. Whatever was Kirk doing?
He reappeared holding the lube in one hand and a damp washcloth in the other. "Turn over, Bones. You remember what you did to me? I'm gonna do it to you, now, gonna eat your ass,but I figured you wouldn't let me unless you were clean, so clean you'll be."
"Jim," McCoy began, but Kirk cut him off.
"No saying no to this; I want to try it, really I do."
"I wasn't going to refuse," McCoy said in a gruff voice. "I was only going to say that I want to kiss you again first, because no matter how clean you get me, I have to say I'm not going to be much excited about having your tongue in my mouth after it's been in my ass."
"Fair enough. Let me use this first," Kirk brandished the washcloth, "and then we can kiss as long as you like before moving on to other things. Okay?"
McCoy nodded. "Yeah." He rolled over onto his stomach.
"Kneel up," Kirk suggested. "Easier, I think."
Obediently McCoy got up onto his knees, moving them apart so that Kirk could sit between his legs. The washcloth was cool and just a little rough against tender skin as Kirk wielded it.
"There," Kirk sounded satisfied. "That should do it."
They rearranged themselves to lie entwined, kissing. Their dicks pressed against each other until McCoy couldn't tell whether the throbbing he felt was his own blood pounding or Kirk's. He pushed his hips closer, rocking, until the movement became pronounced enough for Kirk to notice it.
"Naughty," Kirk murmured, sounding amused and licking McCoy's ear lobe. "Not ready to go there quite yet."
"Enough kissing, then." McCoy had consciously to hold back from stroking himself, anything to get that delicious friction back as Kirk moved away.
"Roll over again and get that sexy ass of yours up for me," Kirk said, "because I can't wait any longer either."
McCoy felt Kirk's warm hands move over his ass, spreading him apart, and then Kirk's tongue swiped across his crack, teasing, moving slowly down until the tip of it was tickling the pucker of his asshole. He groaned.
"Fuck, yeah," Kirk mumbled against his skin.
McCoy's head was turned, his cheek pressed against the bed as he tried to remember how to keep breathing. No one had ever done this to him before; his only experience of it, in fact, had been his brief taste of Kirk the other night. He hadn't thought the flavor was too bad, a little sour maybe, but damn, if it felt as fine to Kirk as it did to him, he'd have to try it a little more extensively some time, just to be fair. He wasn't entirely sure whether it was the actual physical sensation or the idea of it that was so erotic, but whichever, it had him so hard that he was afraid he might come just like that, without another touch on his dick.
"Oh, oh, oh god, oh Jim," he moaned, and Kirk responded by slipping his tongue a little deeper, his hands gripping McCoy's ass cheeks as he slurped away.
Somehow McCoy had managed not to have quite come when Kirk stopped, his tongue quickly replaced by his fingers, slick with lube.
"Gonna fuck you now," Kirk grunted, and McCoy reared back to meet him as Kirk's dick pushed into his more than willing hole. Kirk reached around to grab the base of McCoy's dick, helping restrain him from coming. McCoy was so close that he didn't soften even as Kirk's prick pounded into him.
"Bones, Bones, Bones," Kirk chanted with each thrust. "Oh, fuck!"
Kirk had lost control, McCoy realized as his movements stopped and he clung, shuddering, with his arms wrapped around McCoy's torso.
"Sorry, old man. Didn't mean to finish so fast." He pulled out, leaving sticky wetness trickling down McCoy's thighs. "Here, turn over."
When McCoy had done so, Kirk immediately bent to take his dick in his mouth, pressing his lips against the tip and then opening them so that McCoy's entire length slid inside, hitting the back of Kirk's throat. He jumped a little at that and backed off, substituting his hand at the base as he eagerly sucked the rest.
McCoy came, fingers squeezing Kirk's shoulders hard enough to leave bruises.
Kirk swallowed the whole load, nice and easy, and nuzzled McCoy's dick clean before sitting back with a most self-satisfied expression.
"You look like the cat who ate the canary," McCoy commented, and Kirk laughed.
"I doubt the cat enjoyed what it ate half as much as I did." He reached up and brushed at his lips, explaining, "A hair."
"Yeah." McCoy glanced around and saw the washcloth where Kirk had left it on one side of the bed. He used it to mop up what remained of Kirk's come on his ass and thighs. "I guess you could tell I liked that, huh?"
Kirk grinned. "I did get that impression, yeah."
"Good." McCoy smiled back.
#16: More Than Physical | #18: Worse Things To Do