Authors: mga1999 and skyblue_reverie
Fandom & Pairing: Star Trek Reboot (aka AOS, ST XI, etc.), Pike/McCoy
Rating: NC-17 liekwoah
Warnings: A bit D/s-y
Word Count: around 5500
Summary: The further correspondence of Leonard McCoy and Christopher Pike. SPACE PROM WOO-HOO! Plus more sex, epic romance, Jim Kirk being Jim Kirk, and Bones... surfing?
Authors' Notes: From skyblue_reverie (the loud one): HELL YES we used that line from the poem as a title. Did you honestly think we could pass that up? :p From mga1999 (the quiet one): She made me pick that title. REALLY! Okay, maybe I picked it out. MAYBE.
Part 1, Of Cabbages and Kings
Part 2, Of Sails and Ships and Sealing Wax
Part 3, Scrambling to the Shore
Part 4, The Time Has Come
Part 5, The Sun Was Shining Brightly
Part 6, A Pleasant Walk, A Pleasant Talk
Part 7, The Moon Was Shining Sulkily
Part 8, Why the Sea Is Boiling Hot
Part 9, The Middle of the Night
To: Christopher Pike (firstname.lastname@example.org)
From: Leonard McCoy (email@example.com)
You're asleep in our bed - god, I like the way that sounds, our bed - and I'm going to join you soon, but I just wanted to write down a few things so I don't forget later.
It's halfway through our time together. I've been here with you for three days now, and damn, I wish I didn't ever have to leave. Although this time, it's you leaving first. Don't know how I'm going to feel, staying in your apartment - I mean, our apartment - without you here.
I guess I should start by saying thank you, Chris, really, for asking me to make your apartment my home whenever I'm on earth. I haven't had a home on earth since the divorce, really. I don't count dorm rooms at the Academy or temporary quarters for visiting officers. But now - now, I have somewhere I belong. Somewhere that I really can come home to, when I'm planetside. Just being here makes me feel closer to you. This place is too big for one, but for the two of us, it oughta be just perfect. I've got some things in storage in Atlanta, and I'm going to have them shipped out here so I can unpack them. Don't worry, not a lot of junk. Just a few things that I kept when I left the house where I'd lived with Joss. Most of my childhood possessions and all the family heirlooms are still out at the family property.
I want to get someone - maybe Philip? - to take some holos of us together over the next couple days. I'd like to have something I can frame and put up on the walls in my quarters, maybe one or two for my office in sickbay. And maybe we can put some around the apartment, as well. Shit, Chris, you've got me feeling so goddamned domestic again. Not complaining, it's just... unexpected, I guess.
It really was endearing (your grandmother's favorite word, right?) how nervous you looked when you asked me if I wanted to move in. As if there was a snowball's chance in hell that I'd say no. You've got me in a state of constant euphoria that's making everyone around me question my sanity. I think you could probably ask me to take an around-the-earth trip with you in one of those godforsaken transparent aluminum shuttles and I'd say yes. Please don't, though. Good god.
The other thing I want to write about, so I don't forget, is the Officers' Ball. First, waiting until we were getting dressed for the ball and I was trying to wrestle myself into that scratchy dress uniform before you casually told me that you'd changed your status with Starfleet to "partnered" and listed me as your next-of-kin... that was a low-down, sneaky trick, Chris. Oh, who am I kidding. You know how goddamn happy that made me. And if you hadn't realized how good that made me feel, I think I proceeded to amply prove it to you over the next half-hour or so. We were nearly late, I know, but it was worth it. Damn, Chris. And first thing tomorrow morning, I'm going to change my status as well.
Then at the ball itself - Chris, you were in your element, and I've never seen anything sexier. I don't even know how to describe it, but it's like you were magnetic. Every eye was on you, and you moved around that room like you owned it. And Chris, you did. I'm not one to be impressed by the trappings of fame or power, but with you, it's not the trappings. It's just you. You are one hell of an impressive man.
When they announced the creation of the Christopher Pike Medal of Valor... shit, Chris, I'm choking up even now, just thinking about it. I think my jaw almost hit the floor. Did you have any idea that was coming? You handled it beautifully, though. I wouldn't have been nearly as cool and calm as you were - hell, as it was, I was nearly busting with pride on your behalf. Then you got up and spoke, and you were so goddamned eloquent, about the incredible losses we'd suffered, and how you'd been prepared to give your life on behalf of the Federation but how the real heroes were those who made sure that you and all the other citizens of Earth didn't lose their lives. Aside from the sheer ridiculousness of including me on that list, I think every word was perfect, and I don't have to tell you that you went a long way toward redeeming yourself in Jim's eyes with what you said about him being the exemplar of a Starfleet officer, and someone his dad would have been proud of - someone you were proud of. I think he might have teared up a little bit. I know I did, along with half the people in that room.
I know I've said this before, but your presence is just... it's unbelievable, Chris. When you officially accepted command of the Exeter - it's like you were born to command. You absolutely radiated power and grace. Shit, Chris, everyone - I mean everyone, from the straightest male to the gayest woman to the most asexual alien - everyone there would have given their most prized possession to have been the one at your side.
But none of them got to, because of all the crazy things, I'm the one who got to be at your side. I really hope I didn't look as ridiculous as I felt, because I kind of felt like a princess in a fairy tale. I'm a grown man, for god's sake, and I felt like I was floating on a cloud, being on your arm all night, dancing with you on that huge ballroom floor, meeting about a thousand dignitaries and ambassadors and heads of state and who knows what-all, and having you introduce me as "my partner, Dr. Leonard McCoy."
My face hurts from all the smiling I did, just from happiness at being there with you. You're going to ruin my reputation for grumpiness, Chris. I'm glad I got to meet your bridge crew, as well. I know you think I'm out of my mind, but Chris, I'm telling you, your new XO wants you, and she wants you bad. I'm sure she's an excellent officer, but just - be on your guard, all right? You're all mine, and I don't intend to share. I can hear you laughing at me, and maybe I'm being paranoid, but I don't think so. Anyway, I trust you, so it's a non-issue.
Of course the sex was incredible too - good lord, was it incredible. I couldn't believe it when you tipped that restroom attendant to keep everyone else out, and then you just winked at him. That bathroom was something else, too - I think the whole thing was made of marble and dark synthwood. It was palatial. And then you leaned me against the counter, facing the mirror, so we could both watch what you were doing to me. You pulled my uniform pants down just far enough so you could fist my cock while you were fucking me, and you prepped me fast then pushed in hard, keeping eye contact with me in the mirror the entire time. Shit, Chris, that was hot. Watching myself get fucked, watching you fucking me, both of us still in our dress uniforms. And the look in your eyes - it was like you were claiming me, reminding me that I belonged to you, belonged with you, as if there was anywhere else that I'd possibly want to be. And then, oh, dear god, after we'd both come, you put that butt plug into me to keep your come inside of me, and it was still warm from your own body. Just the idea that you'd planned that practically had me hard again, and for the rest of the evening it was driving me absolutely crazy, knowing that underneath my dress uniform, I was filled up with your come and being kept ready for the next time you wanted to fuck me.
I don't think I could remember two words of any conversation I had for the rest of the night. I just remember how I felt, with your hand always on me, on my back or my neck or my arm, and my ass sore and stretched because of you, for you.
When we got back to your apartment - our apartment - god, we were like rabid wolverines, the way we were all over each other. I have to admit I'm a little proud that I not only kept up, but that I wore you out - you're still sleeping peacefully in our bed while I'm typing this.
And now I'm just proving what a moron I am, for being over here when I could be in your arms, so I'm going to sign off now. I'll set this message to auto-send in three days, on the morning you leave, so hopefully it'll be waiting for you when you reach the Exeter.
Thanks for tonight, Chris. Thanks for everything. I know these memories are going to sustain me when we're apart.
I love you, and don't you ever forget it.
To: Leonard McCoy (firstname.lastname@example.org)
From: Christopher Pike (email@example.com)
We're a day out from spacedock and millions of light years away from Earth. I'm lying in bed with sheets that still smell like you and God, that sappy old man is back and I don't even care anymore. Fuck, Len. Those were the best six days of my life. I don't even know where to start, but I guess the beginning is a good place. Oh and by the way, I hope you know I was on the bridge, and we were at warp eight, when I opened the comm you sneakily auto-delayed. And shortly after, I had to run a meeting with my bridge crew. God, Len. As much as I loved it, I'm not sure the bridge crew appreciates me all flushed, not to mention hard as a rock, while I'm running staff meetings.
But getting back to our time together on earth, do you know how hard it was to sit in meetings once I knew that the Enterprise had docked? At one point Philip kicked my leg under the table. Evidently I was bouncing my knee so much he said it felt like an earthquake. I honestly think he was moments away from giving me a sedative. And when my comm vibrated that you'd arrived at our apartment? And yes, I mean that, Len. I considered it our apartment even before I officially asked you to move in. In fact, I've had my lawyers draft up a trust so that if anything happens to me, it will be yours. And stop that, I don't plan on anything happening, but you are learning that I'm a man who likes my affairs in order. And knowing we are all legal with Starfleet as partners brings me peace of mind. So you are going to just have to learn to deal with that side of me. So when you get papers from my lawyers on the apartment, just sign them. Hear me?
I'm glad you liked the little 'present' I had waiting for you when you got to our apartment. I had to test those holocams, you know. So I thought the shower would be a good place for one. And since I'm rarely in there without jerking off while thinking about you -- Well, as you saw, it turned out pretty good. I have to admit, we also made some damn hot videos. We'll have to talk about them more in detail later, and I love the idea of each of us having half of all the raw footage that we can exchange later. Those motion/sound detecting holocams are pretty great, aren't they? They sure seemed to capture all of our activities. Next time, I'll have to put one in the kitchen, though. I didn't realize that my cooking for you was going to make you so amorous. Of course, I'm not complaining at all. I still don't understand how you think you need more skill with your mouth. If I had a vid of you on your knees in the kitchen, I'm pretty sure it would prove otherwise. Jesus, I could get off right now just thinking about that, but I have more to write so I'm going to wait.
I'm not surprised that we didn't make it past the front door when I got home that first day. Although leaning on the inside of the door, rutting up against each other like two teenagers -- God, what you do to me, Len. Just kissing you and holding you against me there, feeling your warm breath on my neck. And God, the sounds you make. And yes, you DO growl, Len. You only have to watch holovid #3 to hear it in all its glory.
God, I sound like a depraved man. All I've been writing about is the sex we had. But it was so much more than that. And the more is what is going to keep me sane the next seven months until I see you again. It's going to be so hard not to vidcomm each week, and know it will take days sometimes for you to get my letters. But we both have our crystals now, so I feel you close, Len. In fact, when I was finishing up in my ready room earlier, I saw it turn purple, and imagined you in our bed touching yourself. It took almost an hour for it to turn aqua and God, it made me think you had to be using the cock ring and the toys we'd played with. So hot.
I seem to be doing really well at staying away from the sex subject, don't I? So let's try something else here. In answer to your last comm before we saw each other -- my first love. Well, if we are counting teenage infatuation/love, I would have to say it was that drummer in the band. His name was Steve, by the way, and I'd had a crush on him for over a year before we finally starting having sex, so yeah, I was foolish and in 'love' and said it to him all the time. But I wasn't all that brokenhearted when he left, and of course I had Marcella to keep me company practically the week after, so that was that.
Lastly, I just want to say, Len, that I feel honored that you trusted me enough to tell me the story about your father. I just -- God, I still don't know what to say. And I hope that my silence on the subject didn't make you feel like -- I don't know. Holding you when you were sobbing and telling me about it, and comforting you? I felt like I was finally able to give back to you, all the comfort that you've given to me for the last year and few months. You have nothing to be ashamed of for crying in my arms. I was glad I could be there for you. I am honored that you trust me enough to do that. And I'm sorry that after that, I wasn't quite ready to get everything off my chest, but it was just -- it was too much hearing your burden. I didn't -- I couldn't unload mine onto you right then. But I promise, either by letter, or when I see you in June -- maybe laying in your arms under a tree -- I'll share mine with you.
Since this comm will probably take a couple days to get to you, let's plan on watching holovid #2 together at 2230 on Sunday night. We might not be able to have vidcomms, but I kind of like knowing that we'll both be watching, having our crystals nearby and imagining we're with each other, instead of alone in our beds.
I'm so in love with you, Len. I'm so honored to be your lover, your partner. And when the time is right, when we're both ready, we'll make it more than that, but I'm already yours forever. I want to tell you right now, whether you are right about my XO or not, it doesn't matter. I'm yours. There is no one else for me. I'm completely committed to you. You have my word.
By the time you get this, Jim will have whisked you down to Mexico. Yes, I knew about it; in fact I helped plan it when Jim and I had lunch the other day. I told him to make sure you weren't moping. So do me a favor and listen to him for once.
All my love,
To: Christopher Pike (firstname.lastname@example.org)
From: Leonard McCoy (email@example.com)
You and Jim conspiring together is a scary, scary thing. I almost feel sorry for the Federation's enemies, having to deal with both of you. I said almost. Bastards have it coming.
Anyway, I am enjoying Mexico, although if I'd been given my druthers, I wouldn't have chosen to come here, as you well know. Jim's been dragging me out to a different club every night - insists I'm the perfect wingman, handsome enough to attract the ladies, but taken, so I'm not competition. Any female attention that comes my way, he's happy to deflect onto himself, and any male attention, he discourages by casually mentioning my ultra-dangerous and ultra-jealous Starfleet Admiral boyfriend. It seems to deter all but the deeply stupid, and those ones I can handle myself.
Then he usually either takes his chosen conquest to the back of the club (he's classy, our Jim) or to her place for the evening, sneaking back to the hotel before dawn. Then he's up early in the morning, dragging me out to do something like touring Mayan ruins, or hiking in the forest, or even, today, scuba diving. I admit it made me a bit nervous, but it was beautiful, seeing the fish and the coral reefs.
I don't know where that kid gets all his energy. It makes me tired just watching him sometimes. I'd swear that he was on some kind of drugs if I didn't handle all of his bloodwork myself. I can practically hear him saying "I'm just high on life, Bones." Oh, wait, that IS him saying that because he's READING OVER MY GODDAMNED SHOULDER AND IF HE DOESN'T STOP THIS MINUTE I'M GOING TO WRING HIS SCRAWNY NECK.
That's better. Now he's pulling his wounded puppy eyes and taking his beer out to the balcony. Too bad the wounded puppy eyes haven't worked on me since about five minutes into our acquaintance. Oh good lord, now he's doing his "casual" pose out on the balcony, as if he's not well aware that there are five paparazzi waiting to photograph him as soon as he steps outside. Naturally, he's stripped down to his swimsuit, and it's one of those tiny ones that barely covers anything at all, because god forbid he actually be wearing any clothes when his picture gets splashed across the newsnet. He just said "I can hear you rolling your eyes from out here, Bones," and why shouldn't I, if he's going to act like a goddamned peacock?
Anyway, speaking of paparazzi, I have to admit I was a little bit shocked to find the photo of us entering the Officers' Ball all over the newsnet the other day. I knew that you and Jim were celebrities, the heroes who saved earth, but I had no idea that your love life was a subject of so much public speculation and interest. I've even had a couple people ask me for my autograph, like I'm a celebrity in my own right just because I'm sleeping with you. It's weird, Chris. I managed to keep my name and face out of the press after the Narada incident, and since Jim was willing to "protect" me by handling all of the publicity himself, it wasn't too hard, but now I guess it's happened anyway. On the plus side, I know Jocelyn and her friends and family must've seen it, and to be honest, that's kind of satisfying. In fact, I've gotten a few comms from people I used to know back in Atlanta - the timing's totally coincidental, naturally - they just happened to be thinking of me and wondering how I was doing, and by the way next time I'm out in their neck of the woods with my handsome partner they'd love to have us over for dinner. Yeah, I bet they would. More like they'd love to increase their own social standing by bragging about their close personal friendship with you. Vultures.
Well that's enough about what's going on with me now - I'd much rather reminisce about the time we had together.
So first, the Exeter. You know how much I hate shuttles, and how I hate transporters even more, but it was worth it to get the grand tour of your baby from its new commander. I got to see that effortless authority at work again - when you ordered everyone else off the bridge and locked it down, no one even batted an eyelash. It wouldn't have even occurred to any of them to question your order. Jim can only aspire to one day have that kind of command presence. But I'm glad you do have it, because damn, christening your ship was incredible. I'd heard rumors, but I'd always thought they were just that. (And no, I haven't asked Jim if he's "christened" the Enterprise because I do not want to know.)
Anyway, after you'd locked down the bridge, you turned to me and in that same command voice, you told me to strip. That voice gives me chills, Chris. It brooks absolutely no refusal. So there I was, naked as the day I was born with you still looking cool and collected in your uniform, and then you went and sat in the Captain's chair (or is it the Admiral's chair since it's yours?) and I could see how hard you were, straining against your uniform pants. Then you handed me a tube of lube and told me to get your cock out and fuck myself on it. Shit, Chris. I'm so turned on right now just remembering it. In fact, I'm going to go into my bedroom to finish writing this while Mr. Universe out there poses for the press.
Okay, that's better. I'm alone now, and the door's locked. Got my cock in my hand now, stroking myself in between sentences as I write this.
So anyway. I knelt in front of your chair, unzipped your pants, pulled you out, all hot and heavy in my hand. I started with my mouth because your cock looked so good I couldn't resist. You put your hands in my hair and directed my mouth exactly where you wanted it to go, angling my face up so that you could look into my eyes. You weren't saying anything, weren't making any noise at all, even, but I could see the love and approval in your eyes. The only sounds were the licking and sucking and slurping noises I was making on your cock. Then you pulled my mouth off of you, and said "Enough preliminaries. Get yourself ready for my cock, Len, now."
So while you watched, and while I knelt at your feet, I stretched myself open with my fingers, got myself good and lubed up, and then lubed you up too. You turned me around to face the viewscreen and then shit, you polarized the viewscreen so that we could see out but no one else could see in, and then you made me straddle your knees facing the screen and you pulled me down onto your cock. You held my hips and controlled the pace, and you fucked me while we both watched the stars out beyond spacedock, and while we watched all the shuttles and service vehicles swarming all around. I swear I could see some of the workers' faces as they flew by, putting the finishing touches on your ship. I felt so exposed, knowing that it would take only the push of a button for you to let everyone out there see me getting fucked by you, or the push of a different button to unlock the bridge doors, or, hell, to broadcast what we were doing to every comm screen on the ship. But fuck if that didn't just add to the intensity of it. I knew you wouldn't - I never feel as safe as I do when I'm with you - but just knowing that you could, Chris, it was hot. Unbelievably hot. Then you murmured in my ear "Harder, honey. Fuck yourself harder for me now," and I nearly came undone. Then you told me that I wasn't allowed to come until you said I could and that alone nearly made me come. Fuck, I'm glad I managed to hold on. I'm not sure I want to know how you would've punished me if I hadn't. Okay, I'm lying. I really want to know how you would've punished me. Maybe someday I'll even be reckless enough to find out.
Fuck, just thinking about that - I'm going to come now. God, Chris.
Oh, shit, that was good.
Anyway, Chris, I rode you hard, trying desperately not to come, while you just made little grunts and gasping noises behind me. And then finally, you pulled me hard onto your cock and held me there while you came inside of me, and I could feel you pulsing and shooting into me. And I was still hard and practically whining at that point, I wanted to come so bad. After you'd recovered for a minute, you pushed me up and told me to get dressed again. Chris, I was about to kill you, then you just said "Come with me" and led me into your ready room. Then you pulled down your pants, leaned over the desk, and looked over your shoulder at me, with one eyebrow raised. Fuck, that was all the invitation I needed. I don't think I've ever prepped you that fast, and I'm supposed to be a goddamn surgeon, but my fingers were shaking so hard I nearly dropped the lube. And then I pushed into you, Chris, and it felt like heaven. Even better for the long wait you'd made me endure. Fuck, you look so good when you're bent over for me, taking my cock. I can't quite believe I lasted longer than thirty seconds, but I guess you inspire me to new heights of sexual performance. So anyway, by the time you told me I could come, and I came inside of you so hard I thought I was going to pass out, you were ready to go again. Then we both got ourselves looking relatively presentable, you released the lockdown on the bridge, and we went to break in your new quarters. I don't even know how many hours we spent in your bed, but I think we made love at least three more times. I'm glad that the sheets smell like me - it makes me feel good that I left something of me behind on your ship.
All right, fuck. Now I need to go clean up, because Jim's going to be banging on the door any minute to pester me about getting dinner. I'll write more later, tell you more of my memories of our time together. And then when I'm in bed again tonight, I'll get out the cock ring and some of the toys - yeah, that's what I was doing that time it took me an hour to come - and I'll have a nice long, slow session while thinking of you.
I love you, darlin'.
p.s. I wanted to tell you again how much I love having my own crystal that's imprinted on you. I don't know how you got one so quickly, and it's probably better I don't ask, but damn, it's good to have it, to be able to look at it anytime and know how you're doing. In fact, I've got an idea, but I'm going to wait and see if it works first. I'll tell you about it in my next letter.
To: Christopher Pike (firstname.lastname@example.org)
From: James Kirk (email@example.com)
Hola Señor Chris!
Buenos Dias from Mexico! This suite you scored for us is sweet! I'm sitting out on the balcony having a mimosa (hey, orange juice in the morning is good for you). Your boyfriend is still in his bedroom dead to the world. I think that club I dragged him to last night wore him out. He's having fun though! Even danced a couple times with some local ladies. And speaking of the ladies, man, you should have seen the maracas on the one I had some fun in a store room with last night. As they say, Aye Carumba!
I do have some fairly shocking news for you though, sir. So you better sit down before you read this. I wouldn't want to be guilty of causing an old man a heart attack or something. Are you ready?
Bones surfed yesterday. HE SURFED! I've been trying to get him to try it for YEARS and he finally did yesterday. Wiped out most of the time, but he was upright a few times. And SMILING to boot.
So yes, he's having fun. He's not moping too badly. And while I'm used to being recognized in San Francisco, I honestly never thought we'd be so widely known everywhere else. I will never get used to signing autographs and Bones even signed a few without giving them the glare of death! I will say though, we haven't had to pay for a drink anywhere we've been. This hero shit sometimes isn't all that bad.
Gotta run now and wake up your boyfriend. I made an appointment to go para-sailing. Bones doesn't know yet; it's a surprise. If he drowns me when he finds out what I've planned, it's been an honor, sir.
p.s. If those holos of me with those twins make it to you, I SWEAR they told me they were eighteen.
To: James Kirk (firstname.lastname@example.org)
From: Christopher Pike (email@example.com)
You probably won't get this before you leave Mexico, but I'm glad the two of you are having a good time. And I have to say again, it's good -- more than good, actually -- to be talking like this with you again. I missed it, son, and I'm glad we got to spend some time together when I was earthside.
I hope you got some holos of Len surfing. That I'd like to see. I take it you survived para-sailing? I didn't get any memos about a CMO drowning his captain in the Pacific, so I'm assuming Len wasn't too opposed. You just have to push his buttons though, don't you? I think that's a good thing, just don't tell him I said so.
The Exeter is quite a ship. She will never be the Enterprise, but I've already gotten pretty attached to her. I've got a good crew. A nice mix of experienced and firsties. But I'm trying to really enjoy everything about it. I don't know if Len told you or not, but this is my last tour. I'm not leaving Starfleet, but I won't take another command again after this. Still not exactly sure what I'm going to do. I did enjoy that one semester teaching at the Academy, but I still don't know if that's right for me. I have five years to figure it out, though.
Enjoy the rest of your shore leave. It's going to be a long seven months out in the black for all of us.
Take care, son,
Click here for a porny realtime interlude to this chapter - it's flocked to pikemccoy, so you must join to read!
To Part 11