Sky (skyblue_reverie) wrote,

Trek Fic: All Mimsy Were the Borogoves (Pike/McCoy, NC-17)

Title: All Mimsy Were the Borogoves (Part 41a of To Talk of Many Things)
Author: skyblue_reverie
Fandom & Pairing: Star Trek Reboot (aka AOS, ST XI, etc.), Pike/McCoy
Rating: NC-17 woo hoo!
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Word Count: Around 2900
Summary: The start of shore leave.
A/N: I'm sorry I've been MIA. RL is kind of kicking my butt right now, but I'm thinking about you guys and missing you all! <3

Click on the gorgeous banner by the awesome fanarts_series for series masterlist with links to all prior parts:

Chris stood on the veranda of his parents' house and peered into the distance. Jim and Len would be here any minute, and he was just about crawling out of his skin. It was early yet, the air smelling fresh and new and impossibly sweet -- it was going to be a beautiful day.

He was looking into the morning sun so he shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted at the horizon. Was that dot coming closer? He heard it then, a low buzz that vibrated the air around him. It was a hovercar. His breath caught but he forced himself to stillness, ignoring the way his heart was suddenly pounding.

The car got closer and it was definitely a cab, definitely heading straight towards him. Thank fuck. It had been so goddamn long. Too goddamn long.

The car landed and two men emerged, one fair and one dark, and he was striding towards them, unable to restrain himself for a second longer. He was dimly aware of Jim saying something to him, but he couldn't hear it, couldn't respond right now. He knew his eyes were giving too much away right now, too much feeling, too much intensity, but there was no way he could control it.

Then Len was close enough that he could see Len's eyes and in them was the same look directed at him. Between one breath and another Len was in his arms and Chris was crushing him close, arms tight enough to bruise but Len didn't complain, just buried his head in the crook of Chris's neck and held on in return like he was drowning and only Chris could keep him from being pulled under.

Chris had no sense of time passing, lost as he was in the scent of Len's hair and the solid warmth of his body, pressing against his own. They were both breathing raggedly, their hearts beating wildly as the air warmed around them, whether from the heat of their bodies or the unfurling morning Chris neither knew nor cared.

Eventually their breathing steadied, settling into a synchronized rhythm, the way it always did when they were in each other's arms. Chris buried his fingers in the thick, soft hair at the nape of Len's neck and tugged his head back just far enough for him to cover Len's mouth with his own. Chris's kiss was demanding, and Len gave in easily, giving it all to Chris, not holding anything back. Chris could feel Len's unquestioning surrender, and it eased something in him that he hadn't even realized was tense.

The kiss gentled, and now it was Chris's turn to reassure Len, with soft strokes of his tongue against Len's, tapering off to delicate presses of lips against lips. There was silence for a moment, Chris's fingers caressing the back of Len's neck as their eyes slowly opened and focused on each other.

"Hi," said Len, voice husky and just a little shaky.

Chris felt a rush of satisfaction at the way he could make Len came undone for him, so easily and so fast. Maybe he shouldn't enjoy it so much, the power he had over this man, but right now he couldn't bring himself to care.

He smiled, and he knew there was a hint of smugness in it. "Hi yourself," he said.

Len rolled his eyes, but he couldn't keep the happiness off of his face. "Damn, it's good to see you."

"Been too long," Chris replied, the depth of emotion behind the words revealing his own vulnerability, the power Len had over him. If his voice was raspy, he'd blame it on the lingering cold. Then he cleared his throat. They had an audience, and this wasn't the time for anything so private.

Chris stepped back, and he could feel Len's reluctance, the way Len's body almost swayed toward his before he controlled the reaction and stood up straight, his face settling into its usual slight scowl, with a tinge of pink high in his cheeks revealing his embarrassment at having let go so completely in front of other people.

Chris looked around for Jim, and didn't see him, the hovercar, or even their bags. Just how long had he and Len been wrapped up in each other? Len jerked his head toward the house and Chris turned, seeing Jim already deep in conversation with his mother, two Starfleet-issue duffels at his feet.

"Shit," he said under his breath. "My mom's going to kill me for my lack of manners."

Len chuckled, and it broke the tension. He took Chris's hand in his own. "Well, let's go face the music."

As they approached the house, his mother arched one eyebrow pointedly at him, but her eyes were sparkling. Looked like he was going to get off lightly then, thank god.

She came forward and embraced Len, kissing him on the cheek.

"Len, it's so good to see you again," she said.

"Good to see you too, ma'am," he replied.

"Willa," she said insistently.

"Yes, ma'am."

His mom laughed. "Well, you'll need that stubborness for dealing with my son. Who, by the way, has not yet formally introduced me to this very handsome young man," she said, looking pointedly at Chris.

Jim grinned, and Len snorted. Chris just sighed. Should've known he wouldn't get away with a lapse of manners like that without comment.

"I apologize, mom. Jim, may I present my mother, Willa Pike? Mom, this is Captain James T. Kirk." His voice was still painfully hoarse, but his mom wouldn't accept that as an excuse for not observing the formalities.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," Jim said, bowing over her hand and playing it up for all it was worth. Chris and Len looked at each other, rolling their eyes in unison.

His mom smiled and motioned them inside. "Come in, boys. I've got coffee on."

Jim smirked at Chris, clearly amused that all three of them were being lumped into the category of "boys." Chris ignored Jim. No point in reacting to the provocation and getting another scolding from his mother about his poor manners.

He managed to introduce Jim to his father, grandmother, and cousin Annie with relative grace and decorum, hanging onto his patience while Jim turned on the charm and bewitched everyone in the room. Len was making the rounds, too, receiving hugs but Chris could see his smile was beginning to crack at the edges the longer the small talk went on.

Finally Chris took pity on Len -- well, and on himself too -- and eased up next to him, slipped his arm around Len's waist, and made an excuse to lead him away from the small crowd. They found themselves in a small dark hallway in the back of the house. Chris pressed Len up against the wall with his body, leaning in so the full lengths of their torsos were touching. Len was still in his duty uniform, having come with Jim straight from the shipyard to catch a hovercab here. Chris hardly ever got to see him in his science blues, and it surprised him how much of a turn-on it was. Len filled out the uniform well, and it gave him a certain air of authority and gravitas -- not because of the clothes but because of the way he held himself when he was wearing them. He was comfortable and confident in his role as CMO, and it showed in his bearing.

Chris angled his head towards Len and kissed him teasingly, dipping his tongue shallowly into Len's mouth, then pulling away when Len tried to deepen the kiss. Finally Len lost patience and grabbed the back of Chris's head, pulling him in with a growl. Chris laughed into the kiss, and it felt so damn good. The tension of the time apart and the harsh words they'd exchanged didn't evaporate, but it did begin to lighten, and Chris finally relaxed for the first time in weeks.

They kissed again, and again, Len's hands now grasping the back of his t-shirt, blunt nails digging in as he tried to pull Chris impossibly closer.

The sound of a throat clearing broke over them and Chris forced himself to pull back with a reluctant groan. He turned his head to see Jim grinning at them unrepentantly.

"Hey guys, get a room."

Len rolled his eyes.

"No, I mean really. Your mom says to get your butts out of here and over to the hotel room you booked, before the cook sees you and has a heart attack from the shock. She says she'll give you a pass this time, but you both better be on your best behavior at the party or there will be dire consequences." He looked absolutely delighted to be the bearer of this warning.

Len opened his mouth, presumably to snark at Jim, but Chris swiftly covered Len's mouth with his hand and rasped, "Understood. We'll see you at the party tonight."

Then he tugged Len toward the back door so they wouldn't have to make their goodbyes to his well-meaning but very talkative family, a process that could take half an hour, easily. He heard Jim laughing behind them and out of the corner of his eye saw Len raise a middle finger over his shoulder, but now that Len had figured out they were going to escape, he was matching Chris stride for stride.

They barely spoke on the drive over to the hotel, but Len's fingers were twitching where they rested on his thighs and Chris could feel his intense gaze on the side of his face for the entire trip.

They reached the hotel and Chris tossed the keys to a valet and hustled Len into the lobby, practically vibrating with impatience as a clerk checked them in. As soon as they got into the elevator, Len turned toward him, but Chris cut his eyes at the corner where a blinking red light indicated a camera, and Len nodded his understanding.

As soon as the hotel room door closed behind them, though, all bets were off. He was tearing at Len's uniform, cursing the rip-resistant material. Len was fumbling with the button of Chris's pants, whining in frustration when he couldn't get it to open immediately.

"Shhh, let me," Chris soothed. Len dropped his arms, allowing Chris to manipulate his limbs until he was stripped naked, nipples already pebbled and his cock flushed and hard. In a matter of seconds, Chris peeled his own clothes off and pushed Len toward the bed. Len went willingly, and he lay down, propping himself on his elbows to watch Chris bend over and retrieve the tube of lubricant he'd stashed in his pants pocket.

"Chris, I - " Len began, but Chris put a finger on Len's lips to forestall him.

"Not now," he said. "We'll talk later. We've got all day. Right now I've got to fuck you."

Len's eyes heated at his words and he nodded, spreading his legs wide. It was all the invitation Chris needed, and he knelt between Len's legs, preparing him as quickly as possible, and with less care than he usually took. But he couldn't wait another second.

He lined up and pushed in, no finesse or teasing, just a slow forceful slide that had both of them moaning. Chris gritted his teeth and felt sweat breaking out over his whole body. It was an effort not to explode as soon as he was fully sheathed, his balls nudging up against Len's ass.

"I'll take my time later, but right now, I've gotta - "

"Yeah, Chris, do it," Len interrupted.

Chris hitched Len's legs up over his shoulders and leaned in until Len was bent practically in half. The position caused him to tighten around Chris and Chris heard himself give a broken cry before he could stop it from escaping.

Len's eyes flared in response, with something that looked like the same sense of pride Chris had felt earlier at the knowledge of how he affected Len.

He pulled out as far as he could bear to, which wasn't much more than halfway. Then he slammed back in, as hard as he could. Len gave a slightly pained grunt but hissed, "Yes, again, Chris," and so Chris did it again.

He lost himself in the rhythm, then, in the feel of Len's ass clenched tight around his cock, the way their sweat mingled as their skin slid together, Len's short nails pressing insistently into the skin of his shoulders. Len's head was thrown back now, the long elegant line of his throat glistening in the sunlight coming through the room's huge windows, but as beautiful as the sight was, it wasn't what Chris wanted to see.

"Look at me, Len," he gritted, not letting up on the pace he'd set. Len obeyed and his eyes were wild, his mouth slightly open and small gasps were falling from his lips. This, this was what he'd needed, after all the lonely weeks apart. He knew his own eyes were equally turbulent and he didn't try to hide it, didn't try to hide from Len. They were long past the need to hide from each other.

He didn't bend down to kiss Len, didn't want to break eye contact long enough for that. His strokes were almost vicious now, his hips hitting Len's ass on every stroke hard enough to leave bruises.

"Touch yourself now," he commanded, and Len's hand was on his own cock even before he finished the sentence. Chris would pay attention to that gorgeous cock himself later, would lavish attention on it until Len was babbling in pleasure, but right now he just needed to claim Len, make them both remember how it was between them, this connection that was the strongest thing he'd ever felt in his life.

He was losing his rhythm now, sweat dripping down his forehead and into his own eyes, falling from his face to splash onto Len, Chris's ability to focus slipping as he spiraled ever-closer to completion.

"Gonna - " he gasped out.

"Fuck, Chris, yeah," Len said, jerking himself hard and fast.

For just a few more seconds, Chris heard their panting breaths, the sound of his balls slapping against Len's ass, the sound of Len's hand fisting his own cock, and then all he heard was a roaring in his ears as he drove his hips forward one last time, every muscle spasming uncontrollably as he emptied himself deep inside of Len, his cock pulsing, the orgasm going on and on, harder and longer than any he'd felt in a long time.

Len's eyes had stayed locked with his through all of this and then suddenly they squeezed shut and he was coming as well, his face contorted as he spurted thick and heavy between them.

Chris released Len's legs and then sank down until he was resting his full body weight against Len's chest. Len's legs wrapped around his back, his hands still gripping Chris's shoulders, and they shuddered together for several minutes, trying to find some semblance of calm.

Finally Len shoved weakly at his shoulder and Chris took the hint, rolling to the side, pulling Len into his arms so that Len's head was resting against his shoulder.

Len yawned widely and loudly. "Sorry," he said. "Didn't sleep too well on the trip here."

Chris ran his fingers over Len's skin slowly, soothingly. Fuck, he'd missed this, just being able to touch Len. "It's okay, Len," he said. "Why don't you sleep for a little. You're going to need all your energy for later."

"You mean for the party?"

"Well, that too," Chris said. "But I was actually talking about round two. And three. And - "

"Woah, Chris, you're a bit ambitious, aren't you?"

"We'll see," he said, smiling. "But I'm not letting you out of this room until it's time to go down for the party. Right now I just want to hold you, and look at you. So get some rest."

Len opened his mouth to respond but it turned into another yawn. Chris chuckled softly.

"Yeah, yeah, all right," Len grumbled. He burrowed a little more firmly against Chris's body, and Chris willingly pulled him closer. Len's breathing slowed and evened out, sleep claiming him quickly. Chris stroked gently over his skin, ran his fingers through Len's soft hair. He didn't know how he was going to give this up when shore leave was over.

Time enough to think about that later. For now, they had a room to themselves and an entire day with nowhere to be. He felt himself being lulled by the rhythm of Len's heartbeat, and he let go, let it tug him down into sleep, wrapped up in warmth that had nothing to do with the morning sun, climbing steadily higher in the Florida sky.

On to Part 42
Tags: fic: trek, pairing: pike/mccoy, series: to talk of many things
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