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13 June 2011 @ 07:14 pm
Trek Fic: To Leave the Oyster-Bed (TTOMT Part 44, Pike/McCoy, NC-17)  
Title: To Leave the Oyster Bed (Part 44 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
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Word Count: Around 3400
Summary: The continuing correspondence of... yeah, you know the drill.
A/N: from skyblue_reverie and mga1999: Right at the wire, but we did it - an update one week later. Or, well, we WOULD'VE, if lj wasn't being a butt.


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







Personal Journal of Christopher R. Pike
Monday 2260.288


Well, I think I’ve either scared half of my crew in the last few days -- they have finally learned what a hard-ass Captain I can be. It feels good in some ways, to have that control. I’ve been a different Captain since the Narada -- a different man. Not all of it is bad -- in fact, despite what my last journal entry might imply, I feel incredibly lucky to be married to Leonard McCoy. Yes, I still have moments of absolute panic, but I’m working my way through them.

I also figured out it’s not as much about the marriage itself as that once again I did something rash and impulsive. Christopher Pike does not do rash and impulsive. Never has. Well, maybe it’s somewhat about being married again. I swore I’d never do it again. Even when I retired I wasn’t going to get married to whomever I settled down with.

Yet, here I am married to one of Starfleet’s finest medical doctors, someone who is more than twenty years younger than me, who is divorced and is the best friend of the man who will no doubt go down as the greatest captain in Starfleet history. When I was younger, maybe more naive, I thought that might be me one day. And I know I’m a good captain, a good leader, but Jim Kirk -- Well, he’s already saved the damn universe. Who can compete with that?

Not that it’s a competition, mind you. I am not foolish enough to think that if I were to go head to head with him, even in my prime, I’d win. No, I’d lose hands down. That’s hard for me to admit. Damn hard. He’s far from perfect, just like myself at his age. But he’s light years ahead of where I was at his age, especially emotionally. Which I think is why -- Well, one of the reasons I’m so jealous of him. He had no home life, no role models, and tragedy after tragedy -- I had pretty much the idyllic childhood and life and I’m the one that’s emotionally stunted.

I could get more introspective here, but frankly I’ve done it enough the last four days despite how busy I’ve kept myself. If my grandmother were privy to my thoughts and actions she’d probably look at me and tell me to grow the fuck up. I know she’d be disappointed in me, with all the pain and trouble I’ve caused Jim and, if I’m being honest, Len. It’s probably hurt him even more.

Onto better subjects, my health. I’ll admit I’m still struggling. But I’m trying to be reasonable. I know that any day now Philip will be coming to me with all kinds of rules and restrictions and fuck, I’m going to hate every minute of it. I’ll do it because I promised Len I would, but -- Well, I don’t have to make it easy for either of them. Yes, I’m probably being childish here, but it will make me feel like I have a little bit of control over what’s happening, even if it is an illusion. See, I have learned a few things about myself because of all this. Mainly, I’m a first class selfish asshole control freak. Well, not all of that is new, and I guess I forgot jealousy there, but that is a category on its own. But like I’ve said before, I never had anyone who meant so much to me. That I couldn’t stand losing. It’s terrifying loving someone so much.

Now, I’d better get some sleep. I’m gonna wake the crew up in four hours for another drill. I probably shouldn’t worry about losing Len anymore. At this rate, my crew is going to jettison me out an airlock.



To: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)
From: James Kirk (jkirk@starfleet.gov)
Date sent: Wednesday 2260.290


Chris!

You dog! I hear congratulations are in order. You’ve really done a number on Bones, let me tell you. I’ve never seen him turn such a shade of red as when I asked him about his long weekend.

All joking aside, I’m glad you finally made an honest man out of Bones. I mean people were starting to talk, and considering the gossip onboard, it hasn’t been pretty. Of course now half the crew seems to think I’m on suicide watch because you’ve officially snatched away the love of my life now that you’ve had the engagement party. I’m told they posted a picture of me from the party looking devastated and apparently right after the picture, I ran out and hired a ship to leave, not able to bear to see you two together anymore. Can you believe that shit? I didn’t read the newsnets to see the picture or how it started and I don't want to, but I’m sure it started from something harmless like every ridiculous gossip story does. Apparently my crew have too much time on their hands. Let’s see what happens when I give them double drills every day for a week.

I hope you know that this isn’t going to save you the embarrassment of the Best Man speech I’ve been working on for Bones for months at your formal wedding. In fact, this has given me even more ammunition for the brilliant oration I’ve prepared. Thanks for that!

Nothing much going on here. It’s been quiet, eerily quiet. Uhura can’t even pick up any of the usual chatter from the Romulan and Klingon vessels. Something is up, and I don’t think it’s anything good. I’ve sent a report to Starfleet asking for permission to deploy a communications pod just outside the neutral zone in hopes of picking up something from where I think the Romulans are hiding, but I was denied. Even Spock thinks it’s a logical plan and sent a rebuttal to their denial to no avail. My inclination is to do it anyway, but I was told that under no circumstances was I to deploy any type of device or I’d be subject to disciplinary action. Fuckers. The Romulans are up to something and they’ve tied my hands. I have another idea but… Well, I think it would be better if I don’t involve you considering the pole the Admiralty have up their collective ass. I wouldn’t want them to charge you as an accessory to my ‘Federation Crime’ as they put it, for launching something that doesn’t even violate any fucking treaty in place.

Shit. I’m sorry. I’m frustrated, and I’ll even admit I’m worried. And since I’m worried, that has thrown Bones into a state of apocalyptic panic which results in him riding his staff into the ground with attack and disaster drills. If looks could kill, I’d be dead on the floor right now from the look Christine gave me this morning when I brought Bones breakfast at 0500. He’d already been in his office an hour, get this, without coffee, and was re-writing several directives on emergency triage.

I guess that’s about it. I have a meeting with the command crew early tomorrow morning to make a decision about securing the sector where I know the Romulans are lying in wait. There are a couple of freighters due to come through there in a week, so time is of the essence.

I’m really happy for you, Chris. I hope you know I mean that. It also makes me feel better knowing Bones has someone… Well, you know, in case something happens to me. Despite what he thinks, I don’t have a death wish, and it’s always foremost on my mind to get back safely to him. You know as well as I do, it’s just not always possible.

I love you old man. Good luck with your new lifestyle plan.

Jim



To: Leonard McCoy (lmccoy@starfleet.gov)
From: Philip Boyce (pboyce@starfleet.gov)
Date Sent: Thursday 2260.291


Dear Len,

Attached you'll find the final medical plan regarding removing Chris from the immuno-suppressants. We’re going for a four month plan instead of the original three. The consensus was three was too risky considering he’s starting out well below where we’d want his white cell count to be to begin implementation. I still believe we can get him up to snuff within six months if we can both keep him focused and under control. Easier said than done, of course. He’s already starting to balk at a few suggestions I’ve made when we’ve met for meals in the Officer’s Mess. I reminded him that my medical authority allows me to override any requests he makes for food and not to tempt me to enforce it. I think even you would have been proud of the colorful words that he spewed under his breath.

He’s a wily one and I’m sure he’ll try to push the limits as much as he can, but I have my ways of keeping him under control. And if those don’t work, I’m not above comming his grandmother. She and I correspond somewhat regularly. I possibly may let it slip what a pain in the keister her grandson is being and I guarantee you Chris will be as compliant as a purring tribble after she’s done with him. He may not speak to me for awhile, but it’s for his own stubborn good.

Congratulations on the commendation for the cerebrospinal depuration device you invented for the procedure on Chris. Long overdue of course, although as slow as Fleet Medical moves sometimes, it’s somewhat miraculous they did it this quickly. Since you have the right to name it, you should use Chris’s name somehow. It would embarrass the hell out of him, but of course he’d never admit it.

Take care of yourself and stay safe out there.

Philip



To: Leonard McCoy (lmccoy@starfleet.gov)
From: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)
Date sent: Friday 2260.292


Dear Len,

Forgive me for not writing sooner. The only excuse I can offer is that I felt like it would be wrong to send you another superfluous comm ignoring the obvious elephant in the room. Well, in my room. We’re married. There, I said it and I didn’t even choke or sputter when I typed it this time. In other words, I’m getting used to it and I’m sorry, Len. I hope you know that it wasn’t about marrying you as much as that I once again did something spur of the moment and irrational.

Well, that’s probably not the best thing to say to you, but I’m not going to erase it because the last thing I want to do is start our married life hiding things from you. Yes, I completely freaked out when I got back to the Exeter. I’m sure that’s not a surprise to you, but I’m sorry if any of my actions have hurt you. Truly.

I’m happy to be married to you, Len. You have no idea how happy. Am I still panicking at times? Hell yes. I’m sure in your own way you still are too. I know it can’t be easy for you considering the disaster that was your marriage to Jocelyn. I know you had said never again, just as I had. And look at us now. Right now I don’t feel anything other than utterly blessed to have you in my life, Len. I don’t regret it even though truthfully it still scares the hell out of me.

It doesn’t help that I have no one to talk to about this. However, I do believe it’s the right thing keeping it a secret. I have been feeling guilty as hell with every comm I get from my mother and grandmother. I know they would both be disappointed in me. And very hurt that I’ve kept this from them. So I’m just going to go along with whatever circus they are planning for next year. Just pinch me if I get that sour look on my face when we’re home and I’m around them. Promise?

Now let’s talk about that night. Jesus Len, that was not only the best night of my life, but the hottest. Our time in the desert, you fucking me, the dirty talk. Fuck, I love it when you talk dirty to me. And I never thought it was possible to get so turned on when you described fucking your wife. I’m hard just thinking about it.

After we said “I do,” and I turned the comm off with my cousin – Damn, Len. Pushing you over my desk and pulling our pants down just enough to fuck you there on the spot in front of the dark screen, where we’d just gotten married. I’m surprised I lasted as long as I did. I couldn’t believe you were mine. I had to stake my claim right there.

I’m not sure how we stumbled to my bedroom and into the shower after that. And seeing you there naked in my bed, our bed now. Fuck, Len. Taking you in that bed knowing we were married – I don’t think there are any drugs that can make me feel as high as I did at that moment. I honestly didn’t think either one of us were up for more sex, but I couldn’t resist all the miles of skin that were waiting for me. You looked so damn beautiful there, your golden skin contrasting against the dark blue sheets on the bed, the moonlight and the stars shining down from the skylight. Fuck. I know the picture of you like that is going to be burned in my mind forever.

I didn’t expect anything but sleep to happen after the evening we’d already had, but when I slid up next to you, felt your skin against my hands, felt the goosebumps rise on your skin just from my touch – Jesus Len, I still don’t think you understand what you do to me. A few languid kisses later and fuck if you weren’t hardening. Thoughts of sleep disappeared and I slid down, mapping your skin with my tongue, claiming every inch as I worked my way down and -- god, the sound you made when I swallowed you whole. The way your hips pushed up into my mouth. You, Leonard McCoy, were made for my mouth, my cock.

And when you shuddered and came in my mouth, I couldn’t get inside you fast enough. It didn’t take long to get you ready, still stretched and red from me fucking you in my office. The knowledge that I was fucking my husband drove me to – God, Len. I wanted to take my time with you, make you come undone underneath me. But I felt like a man possessed, consumed by the need to – Fuck Len, I just changed to dictating this comm because I am so hard I needed to wrap my hands around my dick, pretending they're yours, squeezing me, stroking me. God it felt amazing to be buried deep in your ass in my bed, our bed on our wedding night. I thought you had made me come undone earlier when I demanded we marry, but this was even more intense.

I don’t know how to explain it, Len. With every stroke, every breath, I was giving myself to you, and looking down in at you, seeing your love for me in your eyes, I realized you were doing the same. You were mine. I was yours. To be that sappy old man that I know I haven’t been lately, we were one.

Fuuuuuck Len. I’m coming. Oh God, I love you so much oh jesus Len oh fuck oh ahhhhhhh, yes, so good, fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck…

I hope you know that there is come dripping down my vid screen right now. Does that turn you on, Len? Does it, baby? I know it does.

Jesus that was intense. I hope you can hear the truth in my voice when I say that I don’t regret marrying you, Leonard McCoy, despite my recent behavior. Does it scare the hell out of me? Yes, yes it does. But it scares me more thinking of life without you.

I’ve told you this before, but want to remind you in case you’ve forgotten. You changed my life, Len. I love you so much and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life showing you that.

Love, your husband,

Chris



To: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)
From: Leonard McCoy (lmccoy@starfleet.gov)
Date sent: Tuesday, 2260.296


Dear Chris,

First off, happy birthday. I know you won't get this until a few days after it's over, but know that I was thinking of you. Well, I'm always thinking of you, but I'm wishing you a happy birthday even though I'm half a galaxy away.

About that elephant in the room - yeah, I could tell you were panicking. Not gonna lie, it didn't feel good, but, well, we've been there and done that before, so it wasn't as bad as it could've been. I feel like I'm learning how to roll with the punches when it comes to our ups and downs. Now of course I've gone and jinxed myself and something'll happen that I'm totally unprepared for. Damn it.

Anyway, I'm glad you're feeling better now, not having as many second thoughts. I want you to know I haven't regretted it for a second. Maybe I never thought I'd get married again after the divorce, but once we got serious, all bets were off. I've known for a long time now, darlin', that I wanted to be your husband. And it's only gonna get better from here, now that we're married. Now you're officially mine, and I'm yours, and I'm never letting you go, you hear me?

It does help to have someone to talk to. You might want to consider confiding in Philip, or maybe have another session with Dr. Rossen if you think that would help. I don't like to think of you struggling alone, darlin'.

Jesus, Chris, you're not half bad with the dirty talk yourself. I love the thought of you jerking your own cock, imagining it's my hands around you, while you're dictating a comm to me. God, the way your voice breaks when you come... fuck, baby, it's so hot. And yeah, of course I love the thought of you coming so hard that you shoot your load onto the vid screen. If I were there I'd lick it all up and feed it back to you in a dirty, wet kiss. Course, if I were there you'd be coming on me, or in me, not wasting it on a damn vid screen.

God damn, our wedding night was amazing. It couldn't have been more perfect. Me taking you out under the stars, and then saying our vows, and then you taking me over your desk, and again in your bed... it was incredible. Every single second of it. We were made for each other, Chris. I may not believe in much but I believe that. I hope you do too.

By the way, I know I should have said something earlier, but I just didn't know how to put it into words. I want to let you know how much it meant to me, when you showed me the tree you'd had planted in Joanna's honor, on her due date. It means more than I can say, that you remembered, and that you understand how important it is to me not to forget her, even though I never even got to meet her. I'm getting all choked up here so I'll stop, but just... thank you, Chris.

Crap, I'm late for my weekly self-defense lesson with Nyota. She's going to kick my ass especially hard today, because she hates it when I'm late. I better run.

I love you, 'til death do us part.

Always,
Len



On to Part 45
 
 
 
Jude: st - pike/mccoymga1999 on June 15th, 2011 03:02 am (UTC)
Yes, typical men and they think that's perfectly normal.

Glad you liked Jim's comm. It was fun to write! ♥