Acidqueen <a.q @ gmx.de>
First Place TOS Series or Suite (two-way tie), Second Place TOS Slash Short Story (six-way tie), Second Place Kirk/Other Female
Pairings: Kirk/McCoy, Kirk/f, Mitchell/f, McCoy/f
Series: pre-TOS - Acidqueen's K/Mc series
Summary: Kirk and McCoy meet again one year after their first encounter.
Author's Note: This is the sequel to "Summer of '53". It was inspired by the song "Something stupid" as performed by Robbie Williams and Nicole Kidman.
Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom owns Star Trek, I own my brain. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made.
Archive: My own website at http://www.syredronning.de/ , ASCEM, all others ask, please.
Acknowledgement: Thanks to T'Thrill for the beta and Lyra for additional help! All remaining errors are mine!
"Hey, Jim, are you ready?" Mitchell's voice came through the wall, accompanied by a loud thud on the thin material.
Jim Kirk, freshly promoted Lieutenant on the USS Farragut, shook his head in front of the mirror. It would serve Gary right if the Officer's House sent him a bill for demolished interior. But then he concentrated on his hair again, forcing some unruly strains into order before finally straightening his walking-out uniform. This was a special evening, and he would celebrate it with his best friend and their respective girlfriends, Sarah and Jamie. Not that Jamie really fit the bill "girlfriend" - she was one of the many girls with whom Gary tried to pair him off with, and charming and beautiful enough that he had spent some nights with her. For a true relationship, though, he just didn't feel enough for her; a fact she'd accept over time.
"I'm ready," he shouted back when his appearance finally fit his standards. Seconds later, Gary stood in his door, showing off his broadest smile. The golden command track uniform spanned over his well-trained muscles and reminded Jim of his own missed trainings lessons. Well, onboard the ship there would be time enough to work on his tonus again. He wasn't of the bodybuilding type anyway, but preferred himself more a la nature - like most people he knew.
"Ah, my golden boy," Gary mocked and blew him a playful kiss. "Ready to rock the house?"
"Yeah, for sure. Where will we drive first?" Jim walked out of the room, locking the door behind him.
"Sarah's waiting for us in the Cheers Inn. What about Jamie?" Gary asked while they hastily made their way down the stairways.
"Then first her, then Sarah."
When they rushed through the main door of the building, Jim encountered some envious stares from people of all genders. He gave Ensign Pre'toj an unambiguous smile, fully knowing that it would leave the sly, young Andorian off-key for the rest of the evening, and maybe a little longer.
Next to him, Gary chuckled. "You're so nasty, Jim."
"I only want to be nice," Jim protested with a grin. "And I saw the gaze you gave Sheila Roberts."
"It's all she'll ever get from me. Surely the ugliest woman in space ever."
"Beauty's not the entrance ticket to the fleet."
"But it sure doesn't hinder," Gary said with sidelong glance at Kirk, and waved for a cab.
Jim Kirk climbed it, shaking his head once more. "Sometimes you're just insufferable, Gary."
"Don't you love me for that, Jimmy-Boy?" Gary retorted, and took the best seat.
The girls were beautiful, the four course meal in their chosen Italian restaurant superb, and when they finally went out into the cooler night air again, all were satiated and stuffed to the max.
"Where are we going to chill out?" Sarah said, leaning heavily onto Gary's arm. Her long, dark hair was tousled, and her dress leapt behind her, since she had forgotten to pull up its fashionable train.
Gary patted her butt. "First we should air you out, Sarah. You tucked a bit deep into the white whine."
She scowled at him, and then grinned at Jim, looking for support. "Jimmy, luv, tell him I don't need no airing."
"You most definitely need some," he replied. "Just as we do." He was far from sober, and Jamie's hairdo towered in front of his mouth, as she too leaned a bit more than usual on him. "Let's go window-shopping for a while." He took Jamie's elbow and directed her toward the elevator to the ground level shopping mall.
She looked up at him when they stood inside. "This is a great evening, Jim. Thank you." Closing her hand around his neck, she pulled him into a kiss, which he half-heartily answered.
"Yes," Sarah agreed, and did likewise with Gary. "You're really cute," she then added, her voice unsteady. "I'd take you both, boys - any time."
"Shhh, don't listen to her," Jim whispered as Jamie frowned in his arms. "She's just drunk."
"I've heard enough of your reputation to believe that you would like that idea," she mumbled.
"Did I ever cheat on my friends?" Jim asked diplomatically, when they left the lift.
"Not that I know of," Jamie admitted.
Gary met Jim's eyes over her hair. Jim stared back at him when he said, "I can be monogamous, once in a while."
His friend twitched his lips. "A true romantic, our Jim."
"He's such a loyal guy," Sarah stated overly loudly in agreement, sloping against a window like a tree blown over by a storm. "I really tried it, but all he said was that he wouldn't lay his best friend's girl."
Jamie's eyes focused on him, and Gary's on Sarah. Jim found the conversation increasingly problematic. "Long time ago, folks. Come on, Jamie, I want to show you something special." Not waiting for an answer, he pulled her forward. Behind them, Gary and Sarah fell into a whispered but intense debate.
Deciding to get some space between them, he rushed Jamie along the windows to a jeweler's shop he knew from sight. Although he preferred girls with brains, he knew that beauties like Jamie were always a bit soft-spotted for such stuff, so this would be the right distraction.
But just as they reached the window, a man in light blue jeans and jacket who had been standing at its side turned to walk away. And something in his way to move reminded Jim of…
"Len?" Jim called out. "Len."
The man in front of him turned around to face him big-eyed.
"Wo-ho, to meet you here," Jim said with a big grin, and offered his hand. "How are you? How are your folks? Your wife? Your daughter?"
The star-struck man took it and shook it weakly. "No folks," he said after a moment.
"Oh." Jim dropped his hand and blushed. "I'm sorry."
"Never mind," Len said. "Joy divorced me." He nodded towards a woman who was approaching, slipping her arm into Len's. "This is Deidre Oscatt, a friend. Deidre, this is Jim… don't even know your family name"
"Jim Kirk, at your service. This is my girlfriend Jamie Landers. Jamie, this is Len -"
Right this moment Gary and Sarah arrived, too, and so the introduction went through another round before all fell into silence, unsure how to carry on.
"We're on our way to town for a chill-out." Jim said. "Why don't you join us?"
"Jim and Gary are celebrating their promotion tonight," Jamie added, pride shining in her eyes. His hand closed around hers tightly as he smiled down at her, happy that she had obviously decided to forget Sarah's statement.
Neither Gary nor Len looked convinced of his suggestion, but with the encouraging help of Deidre, who just had found out that she knew Sarah from high school and most definitely had to celebrate this, Jim Kirk finally got them all to agree to his plan. Only fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the popular nightclub "Flaming Star".
The table talk soon centered on Gary with his uncanny ability to tell even the sexist jokes without really being insulting. Sarah laughed the loudest, with Deidre, who half-lay over her long-forgotten friend, a close second; and even Jamie began to giggle as the level of alcohol in the round was continuously increasing.
Jim eyed Len over the table, noticing the withdrawn state the other man had fallen into. It didn't take long before the doctor disappeared toward the restroom, presumably. He stayed there for so long that finally even his original companion realized his absence.
"I'll go and check on him," Jim said, and stood up. Jamie gave him an irritated gaze, but he didn't mind - she'd be alright without him for a few minutes. He went directly to the long bar that stretched along the first room of the club, sure to find Len there.
"A whiskey," he said to the bartender, as he took a seat next to him. Turning his head, he met a pair of blue eyes. "You know, drinking alone is a bad habit."
"My ex kept telling me that," Len replied flatly, and took a gulp. "Why don't you sit with your friends?"
"Deidre missed you."
"She seems to be a cute girl."
Len shrugged again, circling the drink in his hand.
"I'm really happy to meet you again, Len. I've been thinking of you from time to time." Jim took his glass and rotated around on the bar stool, clamping his knees right and left of Len's stool, almost touching him. "Cheers, Doctor," he said, and smiled.
Len stared at him, then at his hand. "Nightmares, probably," he finally replied, and raised his own drink. The glasses met with a tinkling sound. "Cheers, Jim."
They swallowed their drinks down.
"Two whiskeys," Jim ordered, when the bartender took away the empty glasses.
"You want to make me drunk?"
"Only loosen your tongue," Kirk said brazen.
Len chuckled. "Still so youthful, Jim Kirk. Tell me, how does anyone make Lieutenant at your age? I would've thought you're barely Ensign."
"I was lucky."
"Luck is something for fools, and I don't think you're that," Len said. He rotated on his stool too, interlacing their legs, and took the freshly brought drink. "To you, Jim."
They sipped and leveled the glasses down simultaneously.
"And what are you doing here?" Jim asked.
"I got shanghaied," Len replied dryly.
Jim blinked. "You mean…?"
"Yeah, I got bribed into your club - Starfleet."
"Great." Jim grinned all over. "What happened?"
Len stared down into his glass. "Well. I wanted to get away. They offered me that at the right moment." He looked up. "Sorry, didn't want to pull you down. I'm just not in a festive mood." Sliding down the seat, he summoned the bartender and pulled his credit card.
"Hey, you've already paid the last time," Jim protested playfully.
"You'll be broke anyway when you pay your share of the party," Len replied with a nod of his head toward the back room. "They've already ordered another bottle of champagne."
As he leaned over the bar to take the card back, Jim slipped from his seat, too. "Didn't you forget something?" he whispered into Len's ear, his body touching the other one suggestively.
"You've got a very nice and good-looking girlfriend," Len replied coolly, breaking out of the confined space by moving his stool backwards. "We've had a good time in the past. Just let it stay there."
"Jamie's not my girlfriend - she only wants to be. And if it weren't for you, I wouldn't make that offer now," Jim said, but met only a steely gaze. "Can I get your com number at least?" he finally asked in an exaggerated plea. "I don't want to let you simply vanish out of my life again."
Blue eyes met brown ones, testing whose stubbornness would prevail. In the end it was Jim who gave in, since he didn't want to alienate Len right from the second start-over. He'd find it out anyway.
"As you like," Jim said with a shrug, and followed him back to the others. A few whispered words by Len made Deidre stand up, and with a quick goodbye they left the small party.
"Weird fellow, your doc," Gary remarked with a smirk as they were barely out of the door.
"It's not my doc," Jim replied, sitting down next to Jamie. Maybe he should have a bad conscience, but to see Len again had been as unexpected as arousing, with his memories from the last summer coming back full-fledged. He wondered why Len had been so distanced tonight, when he wasn't interested in Deidre anyway…
"Jim, I'm talking to you," Jamie blurred out beside him, shaking him out of his reverie with a not-so-friendly pat on his thighs.
"I'm sorry, darling," he answered smoothly and fell into their small talk, forgetting about Len McCoy for the rest of the night.
Two days later, Jim Kirk sat on the stairs of the Fleet Main Hospital and waited. It had taken him exactly three calls to find out that Dr. Leonard H. McCoy, excelled developer of an axonal pathway grafting procedure, was working at a project in the third floor of the building right behind him. The doctor usually began his work at nine o'clock in the morning and left at around 2200 (workaholic, someone had said, but Jim had a better guess for the reason for his working overtime). He also usually took a midday break at 1400, and this was when Jim tried to catch him today. Sitting deliberately with his back to the main entrance, he wanted to give Len the free choice to say hello. Well, to make him feel as if he could choose, at least, because he'd talk to him anyway.
A light, expectant tingling went over his suntanned arms, on which his hairs shimmered in the clear daylight. He was clothed to kill, as Jamie would have said, in white shorts and a blue shirt that went well with his complexion and was just a tick too tight, so that his bit of muscles danced beneath it.
A small part of him wondered if Len had meant the rebuff seriously, but Jim was convinced that if he was persuasive enough, the man wouldn't be able to resist him. Just ten minutes with him in a surrounding not as open as the club, and he'd -
"What brings you to this neck of the wood?" someone drawled, and Jim looked up into Len's face. He appeared surprised, but not visibly taken aback. A point on the positive list. Negative, though, was Deidre's appearance right next to his object of pursuit. She gave him such a short nod that he wondered if she remembered him at all.
"I was waiting for a friend and was just about to leave," Jim lied smoothly, and stood up. "But since I am here, what about lunch together?"
Len shook his head. "We're on our way to another lab and have to skip lunch today." Deidre had passed them and was already several steps farther down.
"Tomorrow, then?" Jim asked, keeping his place between Len and the way downward, determined to not let this chance go by.
Len hesitated and finally nodded when Deidre started gesticulating at the open door of a cab. "Okay, tomorrow."
"Same time, same place." Jim held out his hand.
"You're damn persistent," Len said with a sigh. He shook on it before he jumped down the stairs in haste.
"I'm looking forward to it," Jim called after him. And though Len was already closing the door, Jim could hear the growl of his prey. Smiling, he made his way down the stairs too, whistling Verdi's Triumphal March as he outlined the next day.
A week later, Jim Kirk sat on the stairs of the Fleet Main Hospital and waited, not quite in the mood of the last time. Not only had Len McCoy stood him up at their appointed meeting, but he had also not been able to reach him at the lab or his apartment. The hotline of the hospital had finally told him that the whole specialist's staff had been called to an emergency in Australia and would be back in about four days. That had been five days ago, but by now it was already afternoon without Len anywhere in sight. Jim began to feel like he was chasing a wild goose - and he began to wonder if this pursuit was sensible. But with most of his friends away, he had a lot of time on his hands, which he didn't feel like sharing with Gary.
Looking up to the lab section, a sudden decision materialized in his brain - he would just go inside and nail Len down in his natural surrounding. Although only authorized personnel was allowed to enter the higher floors, this was no real challenge for one of the more resourceful lieutenants of Starfleet. He might as well send them a report about their security leaks, Jim thought half an hour later when he wandered through the third level and checked the room numbers, barely disguised in a white coat.
Opening the door of room 03059, he cautiously entered the lab. On clean laboratory tables, dozens of instruments were doing their work, their low humming filling the air - but that was about the only sign of life. Walking between the long tables, he aimed at the office that was at the rear left side of the lab. When he opened the door, Jim shook his head in disbelief - there was Len McCoy, laying sound asleep at the floor on a trekking sleeping bag. Subconsciously, he seemed to notice the intruder, as he rotated around and mumbled something unintelligible.
For a second, Jim pondered his options; then he decided for a full-fledged attack. Kneeling down beside Len's head, he bent over and kissed him. The sleeping man returned the kiss, his lips opening without resistance. Encouraged, Jim let his fingers dive into the open sleeping bag and under the thin clothes and began to caress the skin. The sleeper shifted under his administrations, and unsteady hands reached up to touch his own chest.
When their lips parted, Jim found Len staring at him with open eyes. Determined to avoid resistance - or worse, withdrawal - Jim bent forward again and resumed the kissing while his fingers found their way between the other one's legs, closing unyielding around the growing erection. His other hand cradled the clean-shaven neck, tenderly massaging the tense muscles there. His victim moaned into his mouth.
"You're still a good kisser," Len murmured, as their lips parted again to allow for some air.
"I could return the compliment," Jim said roughly. Heat was pulsing from his abdomen up to his brain and back. He wanted, needed the man beneath him so badly. Hastily shifting his weight, he lay down next to him. "Len…"
Their bodies tightly pressed together when they kissed again, legs intertwined, groins meeting. Accelerated breathing filled the room as they began to strip each other, oblivious of the danger of being detected in the unlocked lab. Conscious thinking faded as they madly made love in the small office.
"Not quite what I expected," Len mumbled as they lay spent next to each other an hour later. "Jim…" He turned around to face him, propping his head on his hand.
"Don't tell me you didn't like it," Jim murmured, drawing a line down Len's chest with his forefinger and ending at his navel.
"No. I won't say that, because it would be a lie. It was great. The best sex I had since last summer. But…well…sex isn't everything in life."
Jim shrugged. "Not everything, but one of the better things." He opened his eyes fully and met Len's. "I want you. I want you because I like being with you and I have the hots for you. I don't want to move into your apartment, and I won't put my toothbrush into your bathroom. But I want to meet you and have hot, horny, wonderful sex with you as often as I can for the remaining one-and-a-half weeks I'm staying on Earth."
Len sagged to the floor and on his back. "What an offer. And what's Jamie saying to all of this?"
"She doesn't have any real claims on me. She's away on an excursion, anyway."
"I don't like that hide-and-seek strategy."
Jim sat up. "See - it's not the same for me if it's a woman or a man. Each gender gives and takes something different. So even if Jamie and I were a couple, you wouldn't take anything away from her by being with me."
Len stared at the ceiling. "You really believe that?"
"I know it's like that," Jim replied earnestly.
His companion rubbed his forehead. "I keep forgetting your age."
"Yes, grandpa," Jim replied caustically and patted Len's chest. When his fingers wandered deeper, the other man closed his eyes. And when Jim started another hand job without encountering resistance, he knew Len McCoy would give in…
They left the building in the middle of the night, parting toward their respective apartments. Like a year ago, Jim made Len promise another meeting the next evening. Like in the past, Len kept his promise, and they met every night from there on. And if there was slight reluctance on Len's part once in a while, Jim Kirk graciously overlooked it.
Like in the past, there was little they spoke about, as Len avoided the topics of family and research, and Jim didn't really care to talk about Jamie, Gary, or his career. Instead, they spent their time fully with sex - exploring their possibilities to the fullest. Len definitely had a hand for long, slowly built orgasms, while Jim knew a few things about creative lovemaking; a combination that led to some of the most sensual days in Jim's life.
It was yet another déjà vu, Jim thought as he sat on the Ocean Beach the next evening, waiting for Len. Relaxed, he looked over the sea and let his memories travel back to their first meeting. Lots of things had changed for them both, but here they were again, reunited. There was just something special about Len that attracted him, although he couldn't really put a finger on what it was.
Well, he wasn't really in the mood for introspection, anyway. Determined, he stood up and walked over the smooth sand. The beach lay relatively quiet, now that the dawn had broken. Only sparse couples were distributed along the outer edges and in hidden corners. He smirked - they were probably here for just the same reason as Len and he were.
In a sudden rush of cheerful childishness, Jim began walking backwards, varying in style - feet pointed in like being knock-kneed, feet pointed out like a duck... He couldn't help laughing about his weirdness and finished the line of footprints with a big jump away from it. Should others wonder what a nutcase had walked here, he thought as he ran back to his initial position near the stairways up to the promenade.
Although it was time, there was no one to see. The beach was empty all around him now, only the sound of the waves splashing against the shore filling the air. Slowly he went to the other side of the beach - maybe Len had misunderstood him and was standing on the next promenade, but his lover wasn't there either. Jim walked back stiffly, his playful mood diminishing, and his concerns growing with every gnashing step. Had he done or said anything wrong last night? No. Not as far as he knew, at least.
When he reached the foot of the promenade, he was about to give up waiting when he spotted a small, dark figure high above him. Could it be…?
"Len?" he shouted upwards, and waved. "Is it you?"
There was just enough movement in the figure to count as affirmation, and so he swiftly moved up the stairs, catching his breath before he stepped onto Len's actual level. Cautiously drawing near he tried to read the other one's mood in the near dark, but without much result.
"You're late. And I almost didn't see you."
"This isn't really my favorite place for a date," Len said, staring down at the beach.
"Uh." Jim leaned against the balustrade next to him. "I thought it would remind you of our first night."
"It surely does that," Len said tonelessly. Turning around, he met Jim's gaze. "Let's go somewhere else, please."
"Sorry, Len - didn't mean to pull you down," Jim said. "It's about…her?"
Len's lips pressed together.
"Forget it," Jim said hastily, and took the other man's hand. "Let's go to the new Daffishop. I heard they have -"
Silence fell between them for a moment; then Len sighed. "It was our last vacation. I mean Joy's and mine. And it was our vacation, too - yours and mine. I can't just drop the bad parts of it and remember only the beach, okay?"
"Understood," Jim stated firmly.
"Daffishop, you said?" Len pulled him near. "I've heard they have nice restrooms…"
"Where do you hear things like that?" Jim said, shocked. "You're developing a dirty mind."
"You're a bad influence…and it was actually Deidre pointing that out…for obvious reasons…"
"Hm-hm," Jim mumbled between kisses. "You're fucking other people?"
"Would you mind?" Len drew slightly back.
"Uh, yes, I think I would. What about me?"
Len kissed him before asking back, "You?"
"You mind me fucking others?"
"Not one little bit jealous?"
Len shook his head. "Jealousy is a nasty bitch. Besides, would it change you?"
"No," Jim admitted.
"Thanks for your frankness," Len said earnestly.
"Daffishop now?" Jim mumbled, increasingly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.
"If you think we're gonna make it there…" Len sneaked a warm hand beneath Jim's t-shirt and ran it down his chest.
As it turned out, they didn't come farther than Len's rented ground car that was parked in a shady corner near the road.
Only two days left until he would leave Earth, and Jim decided that these last evenings should be even better than their other meetings. In anticipation, he raided his bathroom and packed his bag with all the stuff he would need. It had taken him some days to get the final tool, and another day to get used to handling it, but now he felt prepared for any eventuality. Half an hour later, he cheerfully rang at Len's apartment until the chime died with a tortured sound. Almost logically, his lover opened the door with a deep frown.
"Do you have ants in your pants, Jim?" he growled. "My ears are still ringing."
Jim wordlessly pulled him close and kissed him. He kept Len in this lock while maneuvering him into the bedroom. A part of him just loved the dichotomy of having an older man in his arms and still being the more dominant one - it had only been this way with Len.
Len, who just melted when he pushed the right buttons. Len, who gave all of himself, sharing his feelings freely and openly. Len, who nevertheless was definitely a man, not the sort to carry all his past burdens into their bed, wheedle for emotional feedback all the time, or throw a fit should Jim fall asleep right after an orgasm. Clichés, but often so true.
"What's up?" Len asked, eyes half-closed in visible arousal. They were lying on the bed already, and Jim had managed to strip them both, tossing the clothes away carelessly.
"You're up, I hope," Jim teased and pressed his knee between Len's legs. "We're going to party tonight. Just you and me."
"Any special reason?" Len murmured. His hands busily roamed over Jim's chest down to his ass.
"We've had sex for the last eight days, and there is something I never did to you."
"Can't imagine…there's something we haven't done?"
"Let me see," Jim whispered, then licked one flat nipple. "We made sex on the floor, the couch, the shower…"
"Don't remind me," Len said with a moan, as his other nipple was sucked.
"You fucked me and I fucked you and up and down and front and back and on all fours…"
Their breathing accelerated in unison as the memories came back and so, for a while, they just remained kissing, slowly and intensely. Finally Jim pulled back.
"I've got something for you," he said. He jumped out of bed and went to the bag he had dropped right next to the door. "I'm back in a minute," he said, and disappeared.
When he came back with the tray on which he had arranged the necessary accessories, Len gave him a curious gaze. "Uh-oh. I wonder…"
Placing down the tray next to him, Jim sat down on the bed.
"Shaving utensils?" Len said after a short survey.
Jim nodded. "Classic soap," he said and pointed at the foamed cream. "A shaving brush, especially soft."
"And a knife…?"
Jim took hold of a long, slim utensil and opened it. The old-fashioned razor blade gleamed dangerously in his hands. "I love shaving," Jim said with a wide grin.
"Who would've thunk," Len replied, gazing pointedly at the lieutenant's smooth body. "But I don't see the point why I -"
"Because I love shaving and I love having a shaved man in my bed." Jim pressed the doctor's chest back onto the mattress. "Relax, man."
"While you're holding a knife in your hand with which you could slice me into edible parts?" his companion muttered, visibly unconvinced.
"It's a matter of trust, Len."
Jim grabbed the shaving brush and distributed the cream generously over Len's groin, putting the doctor's mumbling to a natural stop. Knowing how delightful the soft brushes could feel, he pursued the painting much longer than necessary. Soon his victim was moaning in arousal, the penis bobbing in the first stages of an erection.
"Hmmm….and the fun's just beginning," Jim murmured, as he finally put the brush aside and took the old-fashioned razor. The cool metal smoothly cut a first stripe of hair between Len's groin and his left thigh. Overly aware of what was shaving him, his lover markedly tensed for the first few strokes, but then relaxed on the cushions.
Line-after-line, the dark hair vanished, leaving a pink area behind. In the end, all that was left was the hair around and on the softened penis, and so Jim took the glans into his left hand and stretched the shaft. Len raised his head, looking at him wide-eyed. "You want to shave there?"
"Of course," Jim said with a big grin, and placed the razor at the groin. "Hold still, or you're called Leonora from tomorrow on."
Len swallowed hard and screwed his eyes shut.
The few hairs on the penis were no problem, but the ones on the soft sac were a true challenge, and so Jim took hold of it after a minute, pulling the wrinkles into an expanded state. Len sharply inhaled and held his breath, which made Jim smile. He loved to tease him - Len could be a beautiful victim.
When Jim was finished, every part of Len's groin was smoothly shaven. Placing brush, razor and water aside, Jim took the towel and began rubbing the slightly irritated skin, cleaning the last hairs away. Stroking the soft fabric around the doctor's penis, he began moving up and down.
"What'cha doin' -" Len rasped, intelligible words dying as Jim elicited a heartfelt moan from him.
"Time for a reward." Jim bent his head down and licked along the shaft, his hands firmly fixing around the base. His tongue danced over the skin, tasting some reminders of the shaving cream, while his left hand worked itself deeper between his lover's spread legs, searching for the entry point.
His middle finger cautiously entered the other one's body, causing a marked increase in Len's breathtaking. And as he sucked the whole member in, his lover bucked up.
"You're great," Len mumbled through clenched teeth, balling hands as his tension increased.
Merciless pursuing his arousing actions, Jim brought him straight towards orgasm. With a sob Len arched up and shot his load into Jim's mouth. His hands beat the mattress several times in spasms before his body relaxed again.
"Lord and all saints," Len murmured when he found words again. "What a ride!"
"Will you complain about shaving again?"
Blue eyes blinked at him. "Did I ever?"
Jim moved upwards and lay down beside Len, positioning his arm under his lover's neck. "Yes, you did."
"Hmmm, can't remember." Len reached around and pulled him close, kissing him intensively. Their mouth opened to each other as they shared the taste of cum that still lay on Jim's tongue.
"Now you," Len whispered, and got hold on Jim's blooming erection. Stroking it softly, he aimed for a very long road to orgasm.
"You know you're a damn cock teaser?" Jim murmured.
"Yes," Len agreed. "Any complains about that?"
"Not really." He closed his eyes, shutting out the visual world to completely focus on the physical stimulation.
Experienced fingers traveled up and down Jim's erection, massaging just the right spots. Lips centered on one nub, sucking it until it was hard; then a tongue bathed it over and over, licking it rhythmically. The stimulation seemed to shortcut right into Jim's groin, adding to the overall, almost unbearable arousal. With a heartfelt moan, he twitched on the bed.
"God, Len, can't you go a little bit faster?"
"You're sure, Jim?" Len whispered, not for a second increasing his speed or tightening his grip. "It'd be over much too fast, don't you think?"
"We can go for a second round any time," Jim pleaded, bucking into Len's hand, which unexpectedly brought his premature release.
And so, they did exactly that.
He hadn't felt that good for years, Jim reflected sleepily two orgasms, a shower and a snack later, as he snuggled into the warmth of the man beside him. For all their differences in personality, he found Len's nearness damn relaxing. There was so little need for proving anything…it was so easy, all so easy…and this warm feeling inside of him… was he falling in love…? Maybe he was already even a step further…loving. Strange that it should be with a man. How would it sound to say 'I love you' to a man…? 'I love you, darling.' Nay. 'Love you, Len.' Better. "Love you, Len," he repeated, tasting the sound.
It took Jim a moment to register that the man in his arms froze and pulled away. He opened his eyes, realizing only now that he had spoken aloud.
"Len?" he asked into the dark room. "Hey!" When no answer was forthcoming, he bent over to the nightstand and switched on the light.
Len stood at the bar with his back to the bed. His hands clenched around the bar's edge, the sinews along the arms up to the shoulders strained and pronounced.
"What's the matter?" Jim asked irritated, rubbing his eyes to clear his mind. "Did I say anything wrong?"
Len spun around. "You can honestly ask me?"
"I'm sorry, Len. I didn't mean -"
"Shut up!" Len's right arm rushed sideward, pushing a few bottles over the edge. They rolled along the floor, unbreakable. "How dare you! Don't you think I've heard that lie enough for a lifetime?"
Jim rubbed his forehead hard. "Lie? Len, I am tired and I don't know what I'm saying -"
"You know damn well! And I bet you're telling that to all of your affairs, fluttering your eyelashes and charming them into oblivion."
This accusation finally woke up Jim. "So you're suddenly jealous?" he snarled, and pulled himself into stand. "Didn't you tell me that you don't care about what I'm doing with others?"
"I don't care, as long as you don't tell me lies!"
"Heck, Len, sometimes people just *fall in love*. What's so wro -"
Len balled his hands to fists. "Stop it! I won't hear it. I don't know who you want deceive, me or yourself, but I won't let anyone play with my feelings again." He reached out and grabbed Kirk's clothes from the floor to throw them at him. "Get your ass out of here."
Jim caught the shirt while the pants slipped out of his fingers, forming a little heap at his feet. "So I don't have any true feelings? Well, I guess I don't. I'm just sleeping around with everyone anyway."
"You didn't complain the last time," Jim hissed.
Len straightened his back. "The last time I was desperate. I'm not that desperate anymore," he said, his blue eyes blazing.
Jim swallowed hard as the insult hit home. "Great. I'll leave you to your superior morals, mister *ex*husband."
"At least I tried. You don't know one little bit about commitment, Jim."
all I know about it I learned from folks like you, the married type who cheat
on their spouses the minute they look away. But why am I still talking to
you…" Jim hastily put on his shirt and pants and finally slipped into his
shoes. When he stood at the door, he half-turned his head.
"Sayonara," he said icily, and jammed the door in his wake.
The USS Farragut departed two days later, and Jamie was standing at the visitor's bay when he beamed over. She had come back from her excursion a day earlier, and so he had spent the last night with her in a deep feeling of unreality, unable to end their relationship at this point. But with the upcoming long separation by his mission, it would happen anyway and less painfully.
He firmly told himself it didn't matter. But he couldn't help feeling lonely for the first time in many years, as he made his way to the bridge. Sitting down next to Mitchell, he concentrated on his helm console, absorbing every detail.
"Hey, Jim," Gary whispered. "Haven't seen you for a while."
"I was busy," Kirk whispered back.
"With your doc?"
Their eyes met, and Gary understood.
"He wasn't your type anyway."
"No," Kirk agreed, and looked up at the screen.
Fortunately, his duties kept him busy throughout his shift, and so he was definitely tired when he stepped into his cabin afterwards, almost overlooking the small blinking at his console. With a yawn he sat down at the edge of the table and turned around the screen. The first message was by Jamie, and he scanned it quickly. The other message was in plain text and short.
I had some time to think about our last meeting.
You remember that I told you I feel ambivalent about you? I thought it was gone, but that night it suddenly was all back. You're not just someone - you're the catalyst who has made the problems fly in our faces the last summer. It's not your fault. Maybe I should even be thankful for it, but it's not that easy. When I see you, I think of her. You're somehow mingled in my memories. And to hear those words just made it all the worse.
I'm not good at writing such things. Just let me wish you good luck with your new assignment. And find someone better suited for you. I'm not your type, as your friend correctly kept noting.
So that was it, Kirk thought, staring at the message. It didn't matter that he had told himself that Len's behavior that night was unforgivable - the man was quite unforgettable, too. To think that he would never meet him again evoked a small knot in his chest.
"Damn," he murmured.
How many couples had he shaken up by his actions? At that time, his rational had been that it was everybody's free will, and that his lovers were cheating on their partners, not he. Maybe this had been a bit…shortsighted.
He sighed and briefly rubbed his face before he looked at the console again to give the appropriate voice commands for deleting the message. He had other problems for now. When and if he came back to Earth, he could rack his brain over Len McCoy then…
Challenge 68: Write a Kirk/McCoy story from Kirk’s POV!