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Trek Fic: And the Mome Raths Outgrabe (Pike/McCoy, NC-17) TTOMT Part 42a

Title: And the Mome Raths Outgrabe (Part 42a of To Talk of Many Things)
Author: mga1999 and 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 7000
Summary: The end of shore leave at Chris's ranch in Mojave. (A "real-time" interlude.)
A/N: from skyblue_reverie: Oh god we're so sorry we've been gone so long. Please don't kill us. From mga1999 You can thank Sky for the porn insertion, pun intended :P That's all that's been holding up this chapter for um, well, we won't say how long. /porn fail From both of us: We promise on our Pike/McCoy, Jim/Bones love that we won't leave you hanging this long again.

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

Monday 2260.281 (afternoon)

Chris yawned as he wandered quietly into the kitchen, stopping and leaning against the half wall that separated his open kitchen and family room. Len was leaning into the fridge, opening containers and packages, tossing ingredients for lunch onto the center island behind him.

"Good run?" Chris asked, crossing his arms across his chest. Len startled, hitting his head on the edge as he stood.

"Dammit Chris! Are you trying to kill me?" Len growled, rubbing the top of his head. "You're worse than Jim sneakin' up on me." He turned and glared at Chris, who couldn't help but grin at his cantankerous fiancé, watching as he reached in and grabbed the bread, tossing it onto the counter with more force than he should have. It promptly slid off and fell onto the floor on the other side.

Chris walked tiredly over to the island, bending over and picking up the bread as Len continued glaring. "I think the bread is an innocent victim here, Len, or did it assault you too?" Chris smirked as he sat down on a stool.

"You're lucky I didn't throw it at your head," he growled. "Ask Jim how many objects I've thrown at him before." He took the bread back and started making sandwiches.

"Is that a hint that I should make sure I don't have vases around from the Ming and Qing dynasties anymore?" This earned him a raised eyebrow from Leonard.

"Probably wouldn't be wise," Len said, as he ripped lettuce. Chris suddenly felt sorry for that lettuce the way Len was shredding it.

"Something wrong, Len?" Chris asked cautiously.

"You didn't get a bit of sleep the hour I was gone, did you?" Len scowled. Chris suspected he already knew the answer.

"Not for lack of trying," Chris replied, the last two words almost unrecognizable. He cleared his throat as Len handed him a bottle of water. "Thanks." After he took a few swigs, he continued. "I gave up after twenty minutes and wrote Jim back."

"I meant to tell you..." Len hesitated a moment before continuing, putting down the knife he was spreading the mayonnaise with. "Dammit." He rubbed his hand across his mouth. "Your family. How accepting they were of Jim. I don't know what to say, Chris. That meant a lot to him." He paused and took a deep breath. "Meant a lot to me too. Thanks."

Chris looked at his fiancé and could see the emotion swirling in his eyes.

"I wish I could say that it was all me, but my mother is the one that you should really be thanking," Chris admitted. "Contrary to what you and Jim think about me at times when I'm being an idiot, I've actually talked to my mom a lot about Jim since I found him in Iowa. Have asked her advice from time to time. Throw in a mother's intuition and she knew exactly what he needed, and just picked my brain on what they could do for him."

"Still," Len said, finishing up Chris's sandwich and pushing the plate across the island, not meeting his eyes. "It's exactly what he needed right now, to get him through..." He swallowed hard and looked up. "Thanks."

"Look," Chris took a bite of his roast beef sandwich before continuing. "I know you're the one who's always telling me he's going to be fine, that he's okay, but I can see through your stubborn bullshit how worried you've been. How worried you are about him." He watched Len cut his sandwich in half, taking a bite. "I feel like an ass because I know you feel like you can't talk about him around me. I know you and Jim both censor yourselves. I don't blame either of you. I don't like it, but I understand."


"No, Len," he interrupted. "Let me finish." He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "I told Jim at the party and I'm telling you now, I want that to stop. It's not fair, especially to you. I've been selfish and I need to figure out a way to control my irrational jealousy. You two tiptoeing around me like you're walking through a minefield..." He stopped, his mouth closing, head dropping. He shook his head. "I want you to talk to me. I know it's not your nature to burden others with your problems, but Len, one thing that bothers me is that you do that, and fairly easily, with Jim."

"That's not true..."

He held his hand up and gave Len an 'are you kidding me?' look. "When I said fairly easily, I meant Jim doesn't have to enact some kind of Klingon torture ritual to get you to spill what's bothering you. I know you two sit in each other's quarters and have a few drinks..." He sighed, placing his palms flat on the counter. "I realize that if we were together all the time, or more than we are now, we'd have our own rituals... This would be easier. And I also know that it's not easy for either of us. I've always handled things on my own. Always. I have to remind myself that I don't have to do that anymore, and I want to believe that writing back and forth to each other... Of course we share a lot."

"We do," Len nodded, listening quietly while he ate.

"We share more than when we're together like this," he gestured back and forth. "I guess what I'm saying, badly as always, is I want to be the one you come to. I want to be the one you can talk to like that, and I know that I don't make it easy. At all. And I'm not saying that I want you to stop confiding in Jim..."

"You just want me to confide in you too," Len finished, nodding.

"I think, and I can't believe I'm saying this," he smiled wryly, "That we get so caught up in the fact that we're together and those emotions and the physical part that we miss..."

"I get it," Len sighed, dropping his head down. "I do." He leaned forward on the counter. "Look, finish your sandwich. Drink all that water. I'm going to take a quick shower and change and then we're going to both get some rest if I have to goddamn sedate you, and then, maybe, depending on how you're feeling, after dinner we can take a long walk and talk about the other stuff." He looked pointedly at Chris.

"Is that a hint that we should talk about some of the things we said to each other?" Chris sighed, wishing he could forget those comms they'd sent.

"It wasn't my intent, but I think as much as we both would like to pretend nothing happened, and just fuck each other senseless, we can't keep doing that."

"No, we can't." Chris put his elbows on the counter, leaning heavily on them.

Len ran his hand through his hair. "I know you aren't feeling well, and I can tell from looking at you that you still have a fever."

"I'm sick. I'm not depressed, Len, despite your insistence." Chris said firmly, defiantly.

"I know," he admitted. "I can see that now that I'm with you, and I'm sorry I was harping on that so much. It's not easy for me to know that you're sufferin' and not be able to help you. I wanted it to be that simple so..."

"I can understand that, but Len..."

"No, wait, now you need to let me finish," Len interrupted and sighed. His knuckles were white, holding onto the edge of the counter. "I don't know why I can't stop being a doctor around you. I know you aren't going to like this, but I'm just trying to be honest, not censor, like you said. I can do that with Jim most of the time, but for some reason, I can't seem to shut that off with you. I'm pretty sure it has to do with the fact that I treated you after the Narada, and have been part of your medical team ever since. I got to know you because of your medical problems. It's been part of us from the beginning. Me worryin' and trying to figure out a way to keep you alive or make you well."

Chris stood up and walked around the island. He pried one of Len's hands off the counter, threading their hands together. Len turned to face him, still gripping the counter with the other hand.

"I look at you right now, and all I see is that the man I love is sick and frustrated and I feel like I've failed you just like my fa--"

"Len..." Chris interrupted, moving his other hand up to Len's cheek, cupping it. "You saved me. Twice. Right after the Narada, and with the procedure you invented to rid me of the last remnants of that damn bug."


"No buts," he said, shaking his head. "We both need to work on this, Len. If I'm going to have permanent problems stemming from all of this, I'm going to have to learn to deal with it instead of being - well, frankly I've probably been a whiny baby about it."

Len smiled. "Maybe, but I think you're entitled." He leaned forward and placed a firm kiss on Chris's lips. "I haven't exactly been..." He kissed him again. "I'm told my bedside manners aren't entirely sympathetic."

"No!" Chris gasped mockingly, and then grinned slyly. "I happen to like your manners in bed."

"You're incorrigible," Len grinned, slapping him playfully on the ass. "Eat your sandwich. I'm going to shower. I'll meet you in the bedroom, to sleep." He gave him a quick kiss and left.

Chris smiled, sitting back down in his chair. He did as he was told. He ate his sandwich, drank his water, and tried not to think about the talk they'd be having later.


The air was crisp, but not too cold on this early October night. The sky was clear, the stars visible in the desert sky. Chris had his favorite Indian throw over one arm, a bag over his shoulder, and was grasping Len's hand in his other. They walked along the gravel path out past the barn and the riding ring. Chris hadn't brought Len out here yet, but figured this was the perfect opportunity.

Chris was feeling better. Not great, but better. He'd been able to sleep for four hours, curled up with Len. He woke to find Len running his hand through his hair and reading a PADD. He feigned sleep for a few minutes longer just to enjoy the moment.

They warmed up one of the meals Annie had put in the freezer for them, eggplant lasagna. Len sliced up an Italian loaf and made garlic bread while Chris tossed a salad, and a bottle of pinot noir rounded out their perfect meal. Their conversation had been light. Mostly about the house and a few stories Chris retold about his childhood.

Chris smiled, remembering the look on Len's face when he explained during dinner that it was never his intention to give Annie the Mojave homestead if he had a family of his own. It was only set up that way in case something happened to him and he had no one else to inherit it. He wanted it to stay in the family. He'd told Len that now included him, and that Annie knew that. He'd assured Len that Annie may love the ranch, but she stayed in Mojave more as a favor to Chris than anything. The fact that Len was growing to love the desert and the ranch as much as he did made Chris love him even more.

"You're awfully quiet, darlin'," Len said, snapping Chris from his thoughts. "Feeling okay?"

"I'm fine, Len," Chris smiled, squeezing Len's hand. "Just thinking about dinner. And things." Chris watched as Len eyed him skeptically. He nodded, and Chris watched as Len bit at his bottom lip nervously. He stopped and put his hands on Len's upper arms, concerned. "What's wrong, Len?"

"What?" Len asked, surprised. "Nothing's wrong." Chris gave him a look. "Oh hell, Chris. Don't give me that look."

"Then tell me what's got you so nervous that you're gnawing at your bottom lip," Chris stated, squeezing his arms.

"Dammit Chris!" Len cursed, pulling back from Chris. He took a couple of steps back running his hand his hair and blowing out a deep breath. "Nothing's wrong. I just might be a little nervous about the talk we need to have."

"And you think I'm not?" Chris asked.

"Not when you have on your Captain mask," Len stated frustrated. "Of course you could be on your way to face a Klingon firing squad and you'd still be cool and calm."

"Klingons prefer to kill with Bat'leths, not firing squads," Chris retorted, a sly grin forming.

Now it was Len's turn to give him that look, along with the eyebrow and it was all Chris could do not to chuckle.

"Honestly, I'd rather deal with a Klingon than talk sometimes."

"I-I just..." Len paused. "Oh hell, Chris, I just don't want to fight with you when we have so little time together." He walked around in a little circle before turning back to Chris. "And I'm sure I'm going to say something stupid or god dammit, Chris, I said some stupid things and overreacted as usual and I can't promise I'm not gonna do that again if we talk about it."

He's looked at Chris so earnestly, so worried that he couldn't help but want to pull Len into his arms. But he knew that wasn't the right thing to do at the moment.

"Look, Len," Chris said, much more calmly than he felt. "We're almost where I want to take you. Let's just get there and we'll sit and relax for awhile and enjoy this beautiful night. If something needs to be said, it will. If not, I know we're both sorry. I'm certainly sorry for my part in it. More than sorry. We both screwed up. It's not the first time, and I'm not so naive as to think it will be the last either. What's important is that we both want to make this -- our relationship -- work." He gestured back and forth between them. "We'll figure it out."

Chris reached his hand out to Len. Len hesitated a moment, taking a deep breath and rubbing his hand across his chin. Chris looked at this man, his wonderful man, and saw the self-doubt and fear and wanted to kick himself for causing a lot of it with his idiocy. When Len took a step forward and laced his fingers through Chris's, he let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He gave Len a reassuring smile and picked up the throw and bag and pulled him down the path.


A coyote howled off in the distance; crickets sang their evening song. Chris and Len lay on half of the throw, spread out on the grass in Chris's favorite spot on the property.

His father had it created for his mom when they married. It was a lush oasis in the middle of the desert, surrounded by ten foot tall oleanders and a wrought iron fence gate. There was a wall fountain in one corner, the sound of the water soothing. Next to the fountain was a patio table and chairs, along with a couple of chaises. Flowerbeds ran around the inside and separated the sitting area from the grassy area along with a cobblestone path. His mother often came out here to paint in the natural light, and Chris spent many days and nights lying in the grass soaking up the sun or dreaming under the stars.

Of course there were other things he did out here. His first time with Marcella had been out here in the grass.

"Whatcha thinking about, darlin'?" Len asked, breaking Chris from his trip down memory lane.

"You sure you want to know?" Chris asked with a lop-sided grin.

"Well, I'm assuming when you brought the blanket and certain supplies that I saw you slip into the bag, you had something besides a moonlight walk in mind."

Chris chuckled. "You know me too well." He sighed an turned onto his side, his arm resting lazily on Len's stomach. "I'll admit, I did have sex on my mind out here. I wanted to share this place with you too. I had some pretty memorable times out here when I was young."
"Christopher Pike, did you bring me out where you lost your virginity?" Len asked, eyebrow raising, a grin forming.

"Sort of," Chris laughed. "My first time with Steve was on the floor of his garage. And that house was demolished twenty years ago, so I can't exactly take you there..."

"That sounds uncomfortable," Len cringed.

"Well, it wasn't as bad as it sounds," Chris said, a nostalgic look on his face. "It was after band rehearsal. We'd kissed a couple of times. It all kind of took me by surprise actually."

"I bet that was the last time that ever happened," Len said.

"True," Chris agreed. "You know I like being in control, but I was fourteen and didn't know what the hell I was doing and he was..." He paused. "It was memorable, even if it hadn't been the first time. There was a grubby old air mattress in the corner so it wasn't like I was on my hands and knees on the floor."

Len nodded.

"My first time with a woman... with Marcella, was out here though," Chris told him, placing a kiss on his neck.

"And I'm sure you brought a lot of your conquests out here too," Len said, sounding a bit insecure.

"Len," Chris stated matter-of-factly. "Yes, I did. Here and the loft in the barn. Which is one reason why I brought you out here." He cupped Len's cheek, looking into his eyes. "I want you here. I want you to make me yours. I want you to fuck me here, fuck me into the ground and claim what belongs to you now."

Chris didn't have to say another word. Len turned over and pushed him onto his back. Len sat up and straddled him, pulling his sweater off over his head. Chris ran his hands up Len's stomach.

"Do you like it when I take charge, darlin'?" Len asked.

"Not always," Chris hedged.

Leonard smiled knowingly. "But sometimes, yeah?"

There was no point denying it. "Yeah, sometimes. I like to let go, not have to make any decisions, not have to be in control. Sometimes," he emphasized.

"Don't worry, Chris, I don't think either one of us would like it this way all the time, or even most of the time, but this time, I'm going to pin you underneath me and fuck you, and you're going to lie there and take it. Got it?"

At Chris's nod, Len pushed him back, flat on the ground, looming over him with arms braced on either side of Chris's head. He thrust his hips once, grinding himself down against Chris, who was already so hard he was aching.

"Oh yeah, I can tell how much you like that," Len said, with a smirk on his face that was disturbingly hot.

Chris let his eyes fall closed and gave himself up to the lassitude that was overcoming him. Len was in charge. Chris didn't have to plan, or think, or do anything but react. It was nice. "S'nice," he mumbled.

"Nice?" Len asked incredulously. "Nice? Oh, darlin', if it's just 'nice' then obviously I'm not trying hard enough."

Chris smiled slightly. Sometimes Len was just too easy to play.

He stayed passive, letting Len move his limbs around until he was bare, shivering just slightly in the cool evening air. Then Len was covering him, miles of hot, smooth skin, and he was shivering for an entirely different reason.

Len kissed him, demandingly, and he gave in without hesitation. Then Len moved on to nibbling his neck, worrying the skin where neck became shoulder, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Len worked his way down Chris's body, touching every square inch, gently, tenderly, and then every now and again nipping hard enough to startle Chris into a surprised hiss.

Finally Chris couldn't take any more - his hips were circling uselessly, trying to get friction on his dick, but encountering nothing but air. Len snickered. Chris's eyes flew open and sought Leonard out, who was now leaning over to grab the lube, obviously enjoying Chris's predicament.

Chris glared, which only caused Len to laugh again. "Hold your horses, darlin'. This is my show, remember?"

Chris nodded reluctantly - giving up control was easier in theory than in practice - but he forced himself to relax, closing his eyes again.

"That's it, darlin'." The approval in Len's voice warmed him to an embarrassing extent. "Roll over," Len continued.

"Arf," Chris replied dryly, but he did as commanded. He was rewarded with a delighted, uninhibited peal of laughter from Len. That was a sound he didn't hear often enough.

"Good boy," Len said, playing along. "You want a biscuit?"

"Rather have a bone," Chris said, looking over his shoulder.

Len groaned. "Oh, that was terrible." But his eyes were sparkling with humor, so Chris was going to call it a win. Then Len firmly grasped the globes of Chris's ass, pulled them apart, and blew a cool stream of air directly across Chris's hole.

Chris gasped, and his head fell forward onto the blanket, his eyes closing once more so he could focus on the sensations. He felt the warm, wet softness of Len's tongue next, and couldn't stifle a gasp. Then Leonard blew again, and Chris whimpered. He was mildly embarrassed by the desperate noises he was making, but as long as Len kept doing that, it was worth it. Len's tongue returned, this time delving slightly into his hole, and now accompanied by one slick finger. Chris couldn't help it - he keened.

He heard Len's breath catch, behind him. "God, I love it when you make those noises," Len said, voice husky. "Love when I make you lose it."

"Please," was all Chris could say, and he could hear the desperation in his own voice.

"Please what, darlin'? I want to hear you say it."

"Please fuck me. Don't tease anymore. I can't take it. I need to feel you inside me. Please." Chris had never begged for anyone before; couldn't imagine ever begging for anyone else. But with Len, it felt right.

"Fuck, baby, you beg so pretty. All right. I'll give you what you want, since you asked so nicely."

With that, Chris felt Len swinging one leg over his hip, straddling him. Mounting him. And then he felt the stretch of Len's thick cock, forcing him open with no further preparation or warning. It was a tight fit, and Len had to rock his hips, pushing himself in, inch by stuttering inch. Chris was howling now, lost in the exquisite pleasure-pain of it, and vaguely he thought he heard the coyotes howling back, in the distance.

Len never faltered, never slowed down. He pushed himself in until he was fully seated, then set up a fast, hard, punishing rhythm that gave Chris no respite. There was nowhere to escape to, no break from the constant barrage of sensation. Chris's whole body was being jerked up and down against the blanket under him, the rough wool causing deliciously painful friction on his cock, in counterpoint to the burning in his ass as Len reamed him without mercy.

Sooner than he would have thought possible, he was on the edge of orgasm. "Christ, Len, gonna come," he gasped.

Len's voice was full of satisfaction. "Yeah, baby, come for me. Let it go. Do it now."

That was enough to set him off, and with a shout, he exploded, his cock pulsing where it was trapped between his abdomen and the blanket.

Len changed the rhythm then, slowing, though each stroke was just as deep. "Gonna fuck you like this," he said. "While you're spent and loose, collapsed under me. Gonna use you for my pleasure, and you're just gonna lie there and take it, aren't you, baby?"

Chris groaned, the words hitting him unexpectedly hard, making his cock twitch uselessly.

"What was that, honey?" Len coaxed, punctuating his words with a particularly deep thrust, accompanied by a twist of his hips that further stretched Chris's abused hole.

He whimpered. "Yeah, Len, do it. Use me."

Len growled in satisfaction and with that, he began thrusting in earnest, chasing his own orgasm. Chris just lay there, in a state of lazy, boneless satisfaction, breathing in the scent of jasmine and oleander and male musk, listening to crickets chirp and Leonard's rasping breaths above him. He tried to imprint every detail in his memory to sustain him during the lonely times out in the black.

He could hear the hitching stutter in Len's breath that meant he was getting close, and so Chris clenched tight around him, giving Len an extra bit of friction. Len gasped loudly and then came with a groan, melting down along Chris's back as he shuddered to completion.

Len lay there for a moment, pinning Chris to the blanket with his weight, but just as Chris was getting uncomfortable, he rolled off and to the side with another groan.

"Holy shit, Chris."

Chris chuckled. "Yeah."

"You're mine," Len said.

"Yeah," Chris said again.

"Say it."

Chris turned his head, looked directly into Len's eyes. "I'm yours. Always."


Basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Chris reached over and pulled the end of the blanket over them. Len curled into him, so it covered them both as Chris shivered. Long moments passed as they lay content, listening to the desert sounds.

"So that 'talking' wasn't so bad," Chris said, breaking the silence.

Len laughed. Chris loved that sound.

"Darlin', we ain't never had a problem with that kind of talkin'," Len drawled in an exaggerated accent, kissing Chris's chest.

"True," Chris agreed. He sighed and ran his hand up and down Len's arm. He coughed, long and hacking, the cold night air getting to him. The walk out there and their lovemaking had tired him out more than he wanted to admit.

"We should probably head back, Chris," Len said, worry in his voice.

"Dammit, Len. I don't want to head back. I'm fine," he said sharply, sitting up a little too quickly. He was dizzy, and had to put his hand on the ground to brace himself. That only made Chris angrier, and he grabbed his clothes, started to stand and the dizziness worsened, making him nearly fall on top of Len who grabbed his arms, steadying him. "Fuck." He pulled out of Len's grip, stepping away. "Fucking alien bug."

He grabbed the bag he brought, a mumbling a litany of colorful words as he staggered around. He pulled a towel out , cleaned up quickly, and got dressed, still unsteady, his back to Len. He wanted to storm off. He wanted to ignore the fact that Len was behind him. He half wished he'd brought his comm with him and could call for an emergency beam out.

Instead, he took a step, intending to head back to the house, and if not for Len grabbing him, would have fallen flat on his face, or at least down on his knees. "Fuck."

"Are you through acting like a goddamn two year old throwing a tantrum now or should I let you fall on your ass like you deserve?" Len asked, muttering under his breath about goddamn infant starship captains.

"I don't know, are you going to spank me?" Chris said defiantly, taking a couple steps away from Len and shooting him a 'see I can walk just fine' look, daring him to intervene again. He purposely ignored the fact that his lover was standing there in the dark completely naked, the moonlight gleaming off his skin.

"Fine," Len spat. He dressed quickly, slipping into his jeans and not even bothering with his shirt. He picked up his socks and boots and growled. "Since you're so fine, I'm going back to the house. When you fall on your ass again and hurt yourself, call Philip to come patch you up because I'm not gonna do it anymore."

He watched as Len took a few steps, and he wanted to be angry, he really did. Instead, he grinned slyly. "Uh, Len," he called out, and waited a beat for him to stop and turn around. "The ranch is back the other way."


"That I am," Chris agreed.

"You know that's not something to be proud of."

"Like you aren't proud of your stubbornness?"

"Touché," Len conceded.

"Fuck, Len," Chris sighed, setting the bag down. "I'm sorry. I'm just..."

"I know, Chris," he said sympathetically. "I know."

He took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair clearly frustrated. "Let's go sit down --"

"Before you fall down," Len said, raising his eyebrow.

His knee jerk reaction was to shake his head and say a forceful no, but he knew he was on shaky ground. "We need to talk, Len," he admitted, much more calmly than he felt.

"Last time someone said those five words to me I ended up divorced and on a shuttle to Starfleet," Len said warily.

"If anything, I'd think you'd be the one doing the divorcing of me and we're not even married yet," Chris said, as he gestured with his arm towards the bench.

Len put his shirt and boots down on the ground, and walked over, hesitant to sit down, his uneasiness clearly visible on his face. Chris squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. He watched, mentally slapping himself as Len sat down, his shoulders slumping. He was such a fool.

"Yes you are," Len agreed, the corner of his mouth turning up.

"I didn't realize I'd said that out loud," Chris said.

"You didn't," Len said, smiling at Chris's surprised look. "Give me a little credit, Chris. Like you said earlier, I know you."

"Will you think less of me if I admit that scares me a little?" Chris confessed, sitting down next to him.

"No, but it's a nice reminder that you're human under there," Len replied. Chris glared sideways, wondering if this was a bad idea -- maybe this wasn't the time and they'd be better off going back to the house. He sighed, but gave Len the benefit of the doubt. "You don't need to compensate for anything -- trust me on this," Len added, raising an eyebrow, and Chris could feel his cheeks flush hot. It still surprised him after all this time how easily Len could get to him like that.

"The rest of Starfleet is judging every move I make. I can't afford to look weak," he said after a moment, taking the safe route. It was apparent they were both going to skirt around their issues.

"That's bullshit and you know it," Len growled. "You at your weakest is still a hundred times better than most on their best day."

"It isn't enough." Chris opened his mouth to continue ignoring the compliment and stopped, thinking better of it.

"It should be." Len sighed and seemed to deflate a bit. "It has to be if we're going to get through this, Chris. I know you're frustrated. I can't imagine what it must be like to be as hale and hearty as you were and to lose that in an instant."

Chris just sat there, a bitter look on his face. He wanted to rail against it all, and Len would be an easy target right now. But he knew it wasn't Len's fault, and he needed to stop taking it out on him. He knew that, yet it was still so hard not to lash out. It never failed to surprise him that there was someone in his life that he trusted enough to see the emotional, uncontrolled Chris Pike.

"Look, Chris," Len began, stretching his arm out casually behind Chris, but mindful not to touch him. "I know right now you're trying to decide whether you want to scream to the heavens for the unfairness of the last couple of years or whether it's time to actually admit that you aren't okay and that maybe you never will be."

Chris opened his mouth but Len didn't let him talk.

"No, you can't keep going like there isn't something wrong, Chris, because there is. You're trying to do everything like you did before the Narada, and right now, that's not possible. In fact, I'd swear on my daddy's grave that part of the reason you're still having so many problems is because you've never done what you should have done in the first place. Let yourself recover." He held his hand up, making it clear Chris needed to shut up and listen.

"Look, darlin'," Len softened, brushing his hand across the back of Chris's neck. "I want to help you get through this. You keep forgettin' that it's a miracle you even survived all of this, much less that you were able to walk again."
Silence surrounded them as Len's words sunk in.

"Why do I feel like there is a giant 'but' in there?" Chris finally said, sounding oddly resigned.

Len turned and looked at him, determination in his eyes. "Do you trust me, Chris?"

"Of course I trust you," Chris said, surprised at the direction their conversation was heading. "Do you think I don't?"

Len was shaking his head, confusing Chris even more.

"No, I meant that if I gave you a medical plan, more like a life plan, with some drastic changes in your everyday routine, would you follow it? Would you trust me enough to try something for awhile that I think in the long run, with the other changes we're making in your medication, might just get you back, or at least closer to where you were before?"

Chris's lips thinned, and his first inclination was to shake his head and refuse. He had an inkling what Len would want him to change, and he honestly wasn't sure he could. Of course, thinking that made him realize being like that was not only foolish, but if he was admitting to himself that he couldn't do something, it also made him a coward. Chris Pike was not a coward.

"Anything," Chris finally managed. Len looked at him, wondering what the hell he was talking about. "I mean, I'll do anything you say."

"Really?" Len said, eyebrow raising. Chris wasn't sure, but he didn't think he'd ever seen it raise to its current level.

"I'm serious, Len," Chris said stoically. "I know that if I keep going like I have been, I'll not only keep sabotaging my health, but --" He paused, swallowing hard, surprised at how much emotion was bubbling up inside. "I can't lose you, Len. I won't lose you."

"You aren't going to lose me, darlin'," Len promised. "You need to make some changes, Chris. You need to take it easy for a while. And that means staying on the Exeter unless you absolutely can't. No first contacts. No beaming down to explore. Lots of sleep, even if Philip needs to sedate you for awhile, and I'll be sending you a diet and exercise plan too."

"Len..." Chris shook his head.

"This isn't negotiable, Chris," Len interrupted, a serious look on his face. "This is your life. This is our life. I promise, Chris. I swear on my mama's peach cobbler if you follow this, in six months tops you'll feel like a new man."

Chris wanted to protest. He wanted to refuse, but looking into Len's eyes, the concern, the worry, the love completely took all the fight out of him.

"Okay," he said, resigned. "Okay, Len."

"We'll discuss this more later," Len said softly, relief on his face. They wrapped their arms around each other and sat listening to an owl hooting nearby and a coyote howling in the distance.

Chris was content. Wary of what was to come, but content. He could do this. For Len. He knew had no other choice.

After several moments, Chris stretched and sat back. He looked over at Len, barechested in the moonlight, and felt himself stirring again. Shit, that shouldn't be possible, not this soon, but Leonard did that to him. Leonard caught him looking, and gave him a once-over in return, the corner of his mouth quirked up.

"Already? Damn, Chris." He sounded impressed.

"Take off your jeans," Chris said, already stripping off his own clothes. Leonard rolled his eyes a little at the peremptory tone but did as he was told.

"Mmm, looks like I'm not the only one ready to go again," Chris commented, watching as Leonard's cock thickened and filled under his gaze.

Leonard groaned. "I can't believe the things you do to me."

Chris grinned wickedly. "Oh, and I haven't even done anything yet." He moved toward Len, then straddled his lap, pushing him firmly into the backrest of the bench. He grabbed Len's now-hard cock, feeling it twitch eagerly in his hand, and then lined it up with his already stretched entrance and sank down, taking it in easily.

He released a breath, long and slow, when he was fully seated, his buttocks pressed against Len's thighs. Leonard grasped his hips firmly to keep him from moving. "Just stay there for a bit, darlin'. Feels so good to be buried deep inside you."

Chris settled against Len, enjoying the stretch of his ass, and the feel of Leonard's shoulders, strong and smooth, under his fingertips. Then he noticed Leonard looking at him speculatively. He raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Len?"

"Mmm, just thinking. Wondering how many people you've had out here in the desert, how many you've fucked, how many you've let fuck you."

Chris frowned. "Len, you know I'm yours now."

Leonard laughed, free and full, and something in Chris eased. "Oh, I know that, darlin'. It just turns me on a bit, is all, thinking that of anyone you've ever fucked before, anyone you've let close enough to bring here before, I'm the one who gets to keep you."

Chris looked at Len consideringly. Without warning, Len bucked up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and Chris gasped. "Tell me, baby. Tell me how many lovers you've had out here."

Chris groaned. When Len did that with his hips, it was hard to think. "Fuck, Len, I don't know. A dozen? Maybe two dozen?"

Len chuckled and swiveled his hips again just so, making Chris gasp. "Yeah? And how many of them have fucked you out here, under the moon? Buried themselves in your sweet little ass and watched you fall apart? Listened to you moan and beg for more?"

At that, Chris did moan. "Shit, Len. No one. No one else."

Chris heard Len's breath catch. "Damn, Chris, I'm the only one to fuck you here? Didn't expect that."

Chris came back down to earth enough to focus on Leonard so he could answer. "I've only ever bottomed for a couple of people. Never used to like it much. Kinda surprises me that I like it so much now," he admitted.

Len's grin was feral. "Show me, baby. Show me how much you like it. Want you to ride me."

Chris groaned, and did as Len asked. Slowly at first, and then with increasing speed and force, he slammed himself down onto Len's thick cock, then pulled back, Len's strong hands helping to lift and guide him with each stroke. He knew it was so Len could make sure he didn't tire himself out, but he couldn't bring himself to resent it, not when it felt so incredible.

Leonard's eyes were intent on him. "This was one of Jocelyn's favorite positions. She could control the depth and speed of penetration, and I could finger her clit while she fucked her pussy on my dick. It was good, but - fuck, Chris - this is so much better. Your ass is so much tighter than her cunt. Wanted to do it this way, wanted to fuck her ass, but she'd never let me. Glad I didn't, now. God, Chris, the way your body grips my cock - it's amazing, darlin'. And you take it so much harder than she did too, so greedy for it. You were made for this, weren't you? Made for riding my cock."

Chris let out a choked gasp but couldn't reply. He couldn't believe that hearing about Leonard fucking his ex-wife was turning him on so hard, but there was no denying that it was. He was so close to coming, just from this, without even a touch on his dick.

And then suddenly Len was touching him and it was even better. Len's hand was firm, warm, and dry, providing enough friction and pressure that it was nearly painful, but so fucking good. He started keening again, howling to the desert sky, and in the background he could hear Len murmuring, "Yeah, take it, Chris, such a good boy, such a slut for my cock, aren't you?"

The words pushed him over the edge and with a wordless shout he came hard, exploding into a million pieces, only distantly aware of Leonard's own orgasm. He shuddered helplessly, unable to control his own thoughts or movements. He wouldn't have even stayed upright if not for Len's strong hands now supporting him gently, not letting him fall. He was gasping, nearly sobbing as he gradually came down from the high. He buried his forehead against Len's shoulder, feeling the frantic pumping of his heart finally slowing. Len's hands were smoothing over him gently now, and Len was murmuring soft endearments that he couldn't quite make out.

There was no other word to describe it - Chris was undone. Completely and totally undone.

He drew a couple of deep breaths, and dropped kisses on Len's shoulder, his neck, working his way back to his mouth. Their tongues tangled lazily, the cool air causing him to shiver, the sensation overwhelming.

He'd never felt more complete. Never felt so much. He couldn't lose this. Ever. Without another thought, he was speaking, his voice raspy and demanding.

"I don't want to wait. Let's get married. Now."

On to the next part.
Tags: fic: trek, pairing: pike/mccoy, series: to talk of many things
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