Reboot Fic: Four Square 7/7 (Draws X)

[syredronning]

Codes: Pike/Dael/Kirk/McCoy, various OCs and other pairings in passing
Rating: NC-17; warnings: kinky, queer, mixed poly relationship with large age difference
Word count: this part 8.000, complete 60.000 words
Link to part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6



Then it's suddenly the morning of their last day together, and Kirk and McCoy take another trip to wherever while Pike needs to hit his office and Dael has some appointments at the academy. They all want to meet at around 1700 in their apartment, but shortly after four in the afternoon, Pike receives a message that makes him call McCoy. He reaches him already at home.

"I got a note from Dael that Jim and she will be out together and back home at 2300. We should have a good time until then."

"Yes, Jim just delivered me here and then left with a similar statement," McCoy says over the connection. "Looks like the kids teamed up on us."

"Yes. So — what are we going to do?"

"Meet at home, see what we feel like doing." McCoy smiles. "I've got to say that I hoped we'd have some more time just for us. Hope you don't mind that."

"Oh, totally," Pike says mockingly. "I have no clue what we should do with five hours all to ourselves."

"I'd like to take you out. You know, really classy."

"You've got strange ideas," Pike says amused. "See you in half an hour."

McCoy is taking a shower when Pike arrives. He doesn't join him as they wouldn't last long if he did, but takes a lonely shower after the doc.

"I meant it with the taking out," McCoy says while watching Pike toweling himself. "We've never been on anything resembling a date in all our time together."

"I had the first true date in my life with Dael, and I don't need a lot of these in my life," Pike says. "Made me feel like a teenager, and I can really do without that."

"Not that horrible kind of a date." McCoy draws close to face him. He puts his hands on Pike's upper arms, and Pike mirrors the touch.

"Just you and me going out and having fun," McCoy says softly.

"Now that sounds like a plan," Pike says.

They dress up, city-chic in black, dark blue and white, a combination that always works.

"By the way," McCoy says in between, "Admiral April and his wife sent me a message, belatedly congratulating Jim and me on our anniversary and that we should see them as the living example that this kind of relationship can work out."

Pike needs a moment to make the connection. "Ah, right, April married his CMO."

"Yes." McCoy looks at him. "April never contacted me before — it's not been your doing, was it?"

"No," Pike can reply truthfully. He barely knows April but the man is one of Nogura's best buddies, so he's got little doubt that the old, fucking manipulative man had his fingers in this. As long as it encourages McCoy to stay on the Enterprise, though, Pike would keep his mouth shut.

Once they're dressed, McCoy walks up behind Pike, putting both hands onto his hips in a quiet caress. "You're ready?"

Pike looks into the mirror. Jim's been right, they really look good together — fitting. But something's missing, something Pike has thought about in random moments and all the way back home tonight.

"You still got the collar you put on me a few days ago?" he asks.

"Sure," McCoy replies with an instantly alert gaze.

"Put it on me." The dark-blue buttoned shirt Pike had selected has a rather high collar, the necklace would be invisible once it is all buttoned up.

On his hips, McCoy's hands tighten their hold. "You sure about it?"

"I am."

Pike remains waiting in front of the mirror, listening to the steps that move out of the room and then back in, the tiny click of the lock getting opened.

"Turn to me, please," McCoy says a little roughly, and when Pike faces him, McCoy carefully puts on the collar around his neck. Before locking it, he gives Pike another questioning gaze.

"It's serious for me," McCoy says.

"I know. It's serious for me too." Pike stands straight.

"For as long as you wear it, I'll see myself in control."

"Yes." Their gazes lock in a dare, grey-blue and brown-green.

"Until we're back home, or until you say that it's enough. You know you can always do that."

"Yes."

McCoy nods sharply, then closes the lock. Pike takes a deep breath.

"You really don't know what you do to me," McCoy mutters and draws his thumb over Pike's bottom lip, a gesture the doc seems to have become quite enamored with — not that Pike feels like complaining.

"So I guess the evening planning is all on me?"

Pike smirks.

"Great." McCoy looks excited. "Wait in the living room, I'll get things arranged."

There's something to be said for being out of responsibility and just going with the flow, Pike thinks as he settles on the couch in the living room. Out of habit he picks a PADD and goes through a few messages, but then quickly puts it aside. He's looking forward to a few hours just with Leonard, and the world wouldn't end just because he doesn't answer a request or two.

He twiddles his thumbs, listening to the faint noises of someone going through cupboards. When McCoy appears, he's got a small bag slung over his shoulder. "Come on."

They're already at the main door when McCoy stops him. "Wait a second." With sure fingers, he buttons up Pike's shirt. "Better," he says after a last glance up and down Pike's figure. "Let's go, a cab is waiting for us."

True to his words, the cab is already in front of the house. Pike sits down in the back, joined seconds later by McCoy.

"Spread your legs for me," McCoy says huskily, and Pike leans back into the comfy seat and angles his knees to the sides. He closes his eyes as McCoy's hand settles on his groin, cupping it with just the right pressure. "You're so damn hot, Chris. Sometimes I just want to stay in bed with you for a full day, doing nothing but make love to you, talk to you, sleep next to you."

"We could've stayed at home," Pike says amused.

"Not tonight — I've got better plans."

From the sound of the cab, they've got to be on a highway, but Pike is too lazy and relaxed to spy out of the window. McCoy's hand lies on his groin, heavy and hot, their knees slightly touching. He's a bit startled when McCoy suddenly moves and kisses him, but instantly opens to the probing tongue. The action goes straight to his dick, and the doc looks rather smug when they finally stop, giving his bulge a playful pat.

When he gets out of the car, Pike finds himself in front of the Starlight Tower. He's never been here, but the restaurant on its top has a certain reputation.

"The Grande Opera?" Pike asks as they walk into the turbolift. "It's one of the most expensive places in town." And with a waiting list to Mars.

"Contrary to what you seem to think of me, I'm not actually starving," McCoy mutters. "And I'm more than happy to spend a few bucks on you."

The restaurant looks like a theater, with tables instead of seats in the middle and maybe fourteen rows of loges along the large, curved hall. In front, there's a real stage with live music, currently showing some Klingon opera. The waitress is a two meter tall diva in blue and gold and sails away in front of them along curved corridors to show them to their box. It's small but beautifully decorated, featuring a dark red velvet couch in the form of a half circle equipped with several cushions, a small round antique wooden table in its front, and dark red gaze curtains left and right of the translucent force field. The walls are painted in something resembling Art Nouveau, the live singing an audible but not overly loud background sound.

"The standard setting is opaque from the outside, translucent from inside, but you can change it here at the small console at the side," the waitress explains. "You can also order with it, or call in for a voice order in any Federation language. The sound setting is on the bottom."

"Fine, thanks." When she's left, McCoy moves the table aside to make room in front of the couch. Once he sits, he gestures to the floor.

"Kneel down."

Pike obediently gets down. It's one of the better side effects of his brain trouble that kneeling is a lot more comfortable with the protectors, though he still wouldn't mind a cushion and says so. McCoy offers him two, then leans over to the console to order without consulting with Pike.

Once the order is out, McCoy turns back to him. "Come closer," he says and pats his thighs. Pike moves forward until he's right in front of his lover.

"I've thought about that for a while," McCoy starts and reaches into his bag.

Pike can't help smirking. "You said that already a few times in this vacation — are you only thinking of kinky sex with me?"

"Not only, but more than it's good for me," McCoy admits. "In every combination, though having you on your knees in front of me is rather high up on the list." He pulls a blindfold out of the bag.

"You can always say stop," he repeats the statement from back home when he puts the blindfold in place.

"I know," Pike replies. The darkness settles gently, taking yet another degree of freedom from him. Under normal circumstances, he'd have a big problem with that, but tonight, it's been his very active decision to go that route, and unless the doc makes something that triggers him — which Pike really hopes won't happen — he's all set out to enjoy being out of responsibility.

Handcuffs are next, tying his wrists together behind his back; they're light and comfortable but make their point with the locking sound that resonates in the loge. McCoy's fingers drift over his face, caressing him, drawing over his lips and at last pushing into his mouth, not too deep. He licks and sucks them, taking in their smell and taste, just a tad of soap.

There's the sound of beaming, and McCoy chuckles and draws away. "They beam in the order! I can't believe it. That's the most hedonist temple I've ever seen." Glass clinks on glass as the doc moves to pour something to drink.

"Apple juice for you. There's even a bottling year and place on it. Jesus."

"I hope it's 2254 San Jose, that's been especially good," Pike says.

"You're kidding."

"I'm not."

The doc moves. "It's 2250, India, but I hope you'll like it anyway." Pike expects a glass or a straw, but instead he gets pulled into a kiss, taken aback when McCoy feeds him a tiny amount of juice right from his mouth. He jerks away his head, swallowing quickly.

"How is it?" McCoy asks rather clinically.

"Borderline," Pike rasps. Fucking game.

"But it didn't trigger you."

"No," Pike states. Not yet.

McCoy's hand nudges his shoulder. "I love feeding you. I want to have dinner with you my way. There are many interesting things on the table, and I want to feed them to you, out of my hand. I promise there's nothing in it that will remind you of you-know-what. If you don't like something, just spit it out."

"You're unbelievable," Pike says, with more than a little unwilling admiration because the doc is possibly the only man who'd even try to sell trauma therapy to him as a kinky scene… and makes him go with it.

"If you want to bow out, I'll remove the blindfold and you can eat out of a bowl."

Not a really tempting alternative, and what the heck, he can do it. Pursing his lips, Pike nods. "Carry on with your original plan, doc. But if you make me have another panic attack, you won't get another chance for your feeding fetish ever again."

"Okay." The doc moves, and Pike involuntarily holds his breath through the sound of metal scraping along real porcelain.

"Move forward… yes… open your mouth, test it with your tongue… fine." McCoy gently directs him and Pike follows the words, fighting down his nerviness. It smells sweet and fruity. It's —

"Apple tart." Pike picks the piece from McCoy's hand with his lips, licking the palm clean from any residual sugar afterwards. Not all food would be that easy and to his liking, but he's relieved that he's passed the first test. "And a damn good one."

"Everything here is damn good," McCoy agrees. "Glad you liked my choice." He cradles Pike's face and guides him into another kiss, this time without juice.

"I think you're overdressed," the doc then states and unbuttons the shirt to shift it down Pike's shoulders and arms. The fabric pools above his tied wrists, making Pike feel unusually naked and exposed. He presses his lips together when McCoy's hand ghosts over his left nipple.

"Be glad I don't have the clamps with me," he can hear the doc mutter. "Though I don't want to hurt you tonight… not really, at least." Fingers unexpectedly capture both nubs and squeeze them to the edge of discomfort. Pike gasps a little, mostly due to the surprise, and follows the pull towards the fingers' owner.

"Tonight I want to make you feel good," McCoy says, lips close to his mouth. "Want to please you." The fingers release his nipples and move up to his neck instead, brushing along the metal. "Because having you all to myself is a rare gift."

Pike shivers a little. He really would deal better with something as simple as pain than with this depth of emotions that keeps emanating from the doc in such moments.

"I know you don't want to hear that," McCoy states and moves. "I know you so well, Chris, because we're so alike in some ways."

If the doc waits for an answer, Pike won't grant him one — but maybe the doc doesn't wait anyway, because the next thing is yet another food getting fed to him. This time it comes with a spicy smell, a little salty in the taste, at last crisp in his mouth.

"Nice — potato chips?" Pike says after licking the palm clean once again.

"Almost. Russian nachos."

"Russian??"

"Actually no," McCoy chuckles. "But it's become a running gag on the Enterprise, because Chekov recently claimed after his fifth scotch that Nachos were invented in Russia. The boy's really funny at times."

"The boy is a grown man, doc," Pike says amused.

"He'll always be seventeen to me," McCoy grunts.

That explains a whole lot about the doc's attitude to Dael, Pike thinks. It's probably a wonder that the two have managed to find any common ground, which mostly seems to consist of looking after Pike and giving in to any strange idea Kirk might have.

There are more dishes moved on the table, and McCoy picks up speed, feeding him sweet and salty food in a nice mix. Andorian sushi and Moscow vodka cherries; Vulcan plomeek soup (what a mess in a hand) and Swiss chocolate tart, Australian vegetarian kangaroo (mind-boggling concept but great taste) and the Andorian version of vanilla ice cream, Tellarite unicorn, and rare French cheese at last (Pike is glad to be spared the looks of it, because he has his suspicions).

Considering that they haven't eaten a lot, Pike is rather full at the end of the feeding buffet — and he's gone through it without any danger, aside from getting that juice mouth-fed to him in the beginning, something McCoy thankfully didn't repeat over the course of the evening. It's definitely a small victory.

When McCoy removes the handcuffs and the blindfold and orders him to close his shirt, Pike is almost unwilling to leave the comfortable state of being he's in. He trails behind McCoy when they leave the Grande Opera, trying hard not to look at the check that the doc pays with a wave of his credit chip, but it's definitely of four digits in length.

"Didn't know I'm worth that much to you," Pike can't help teasing as they're in yet another cab, McCoy's arm possessively around his shoulder. He looks at his lover and waits for the typical eye roll, but instead he gets another intense gaze that makes him quickly look away, out of the window. The move bares his neck to the doc, and Pike closes his eyes as overly hot lips descend and place gentle kisses on his skin. It's on the edge of too much, and maybe the doc can feel it in his tensing body, because seconds later, the lips are gone.

When the cab stops again, they're in front of another club, The Laughing Vulcan.

Pike draws a face at the somehow inappropriate name, but follows McCoy's long steps towards the entry. "What's next on the list?"

McCoy doesn't grant him an answer right away, only captures his hand and nudges it in a wordless trust me gesture. Once the doc pays the entry fee, they're walking right into what could only be described as dance palace, all in red velvet and silver brocade with traditional illumination. McCoy leads him towards a bar in the back of the large hall, ordering two alcohol-free drinks for them. Pike scans the other guests, and they're almost exclusively human of the middle-aged, middle-class kind, with him and McCoy the only homosexual couple around, from what Pike can see in the niches and on the dance floor. The music is rather old-fashioned, but not old-fashioned enough to be considered golden oldies yet.

"What are we doing here?" Pike asks again.

McCoy sips at his drink. "Just wanted to take you to a place I'd always wanted to go to." He puts on hand on Pike's knee, a gesture that causes a few glances from a nearby group of men and women, as Pike well notices. He looks down on his drink with a frown, his grip on the glass tightening. He feels decidedly out of sync with the whole location, which reminds him of events that had been forced on him in his youth. He'd never again set a foot in a location like that except for official reasons or during missions, and given his experience tonight, this is definitely his last foray into places like this one.

"Doc —" he starts, but then a new song begins, an almost bearable hit from a few years ago, and McCoy pulls him onto the dance floor.

"I always wanted to do this," the doc says with gleaming eyes, which makes this very much not the moment to tell the doc how much he dislikes the place; instead Pike bites the bullet and follows his lead.

Last time Pike had danced, it was with Farnham at Nat's wedding, so dancing with McCoy tonight brings up some strange feelings. McCoy is a better dancer than Pike would've thought but then, knowledge of the most popular dances within the Federation is expected from officers. There's even an academy class for it, much to the chagrin of many cadets. Pike struggles a little with getting his legs sorted; he's never danced the traditional female part before, and McCoy — of course — forces him through the waltz, rumba and aninai, one of the fashionable imported Orion dances.

Pike feels the gazes of the audience on his back like phasers, but McCoy seems to be completely ignorant of the situation. Or maybe McCoy knows and is more of a gay revolutionary than Pike would've had granted him — Pike isn't sure he wants to know the answer. When he's got some concentration left to scan the audience, he recognizes a few faces. Just great.

"This dance is all about you swinging your hips," McCoy admonishes him halfway through the aninai, and it's the straw that breaks the camel's back.

"You can swing all you want, I won't," Pike states coolly.

"You won't?" McCoy shakes his head. "And here I thought I could order you around as long as you carry the collar."

"I could give you a blowjob in the restroom," Pike suggests helpfully. "But I won't make an ass of myself on this dance floor, not when I work with at least one person in the audience."

"Oh, who?"

"My assistant is sitting a few tables away."

"Okay, point taken," McCoy says and guides them from middle of the room into a more hidden corner.

"Guess we should leave soon anyway," McCoy say wistfully. "It's almost half past ten." The doc calls a cab and Pike is glad to escape yet another attempt at dancing.

*

When they come home at a quarter to eleven, they are the first ones there. McCoy removes the collar, this time a little more ceremoniously with Pike kneeling in front of him. Then they take a brief shower, trying to get back to normal.

"How did you like it?" McCoy asks the question at last once they're toweling themselves dry.

"Not sure," Pike admits. "At times it was fine… at other times, strange." When McCoy looks disappointed, he adds, "Maybe when I'm in another mood. It's been an intense time with you, and I'm slowly running out of energy. Juggling so many emotions is hard for me."

"Okay," McCoy says, but still sounds unhappy. Pike pulls him into an embrace and a kiss.

"I don't want to lie, doc — I wanted the collar and it felt okay. I was willing to test things. I just didn't like to dance there. I keep being nervous about my legs giving out and I still don't like being so much on display with my lovers, no matter their gender. I've been always a private man — maybe you can't remember that because you've seen me in many other situations by now, but it's only due to you and Jim that I put as much of myself on display as I do right now."

"You're right," McCoy murmurs. "I keep forgetting that these things are really challenging to you. Jim's a damn exhibitionist, he'd probably have stripped on that dance floor."

"And he would have flirted with the women in the audience."

"Sure."

Pike shakes his head. "Doc, I'm not that kind of guy. I don't even flirt with men, and I most definitely don't flirt with women, and I don't put on a show. That place you took me to just rung all the wrong bells for me."

McCoy puts the towels aside. "Huh, okay. Didn't think it was that bad. I liked the place but I could see it wasn't your thing."

"Do you like my club?" Pike asks straight ahead. "Be open — do you like it?"

The doc visibly flounders. "Well, it's not the kind of club I'd go to on my own, but with you and Jim —"

"And it's been the same for me in that dance palace. We're coming from different sides of the gender orientation spectrum, and I'm not as flexible as Jim."

"I'm sorry." McCoy takes him into an embrace. "Guess I wanted too much."

"Maybe, yes." Pike spreads his hands over the doc's ass, bringing their groins together. "But I really liked the Grande Opera. That's been a good choice… and a very nice game."

McCoy relaxes slightly, his hand massaging Pike's shoulders. "I'm glad I didn't trigger anything. It's been my biggest concern but feeding's really a little kink of mine."

"Obviously." Pike runs his hands up and down McCoy' back. "Let's enjoy our last minutes all to ourselves. They should be here any second." He pulls the doc into a deep kiss to show him that despite the mixed experience of the evening, all is fine.

True to his words, the apartment door soon opens and Kirk appears in the bedroom door, smiling at them as they move out of their embrace without losing touch.

Pike squints at the empty corridor behind him. "Where did you leave Dael?"

"She excused herself," Kirk says and gets out of his shoes.

"What?" Pike stares at him.

"She bowed out for tonight. She hopes we have a good time." There goes Kirk's shirt, the pants quickly following.

"Did anything happen?"

Kirk strips out of his underwear and socks, carelessly throwing it onto the pile he created on the floor. "Nothing happened," he says soothingly. "She just wanted us to enjoy our last evening together. She's fine, and she said that we couldn't have done a better job at making her feel welcome, but she really wants us to have the last night to ourselves." He draws up to Pike, putting a warm hand on his chest.

"If you doubt my words, you're free to call her, but she's been very determined not to join in tonight. And I think you should grant her her own decision."

Pike can't simply shake off the strange feeling he has over the news. "I'll make that call," he states, and stalks out to the office. Kirk doesn't hold him back.

"Dael, what's wrong?" he says when she answers his call. She's obviously in some club, her face framed by flickering lights and loud music in the background — possibly Arissa's club.

"Nothing's wrong, Christopher," she says, her voice unusually soft. "Everything is fine."

"Then why don't you come home tonight?"

"Because I want you to have your men all to yourself. You've been wonderful," she adds when he's about to contradict her, "and it's been some of the best days in my life, but they are still your men. I know it's different with me in the mix. Go and have fun, I'll see you tomorrow morning. And I promise to be all chaste." She smiles, her dimples creating interesting ripples in the dark patterns.

"Damn, Dael," he mutters. "You don't have to promise me any such thing."

"Okay, then I'll just promise to be home tomorrow morning. Have fun." She blows a kiss at him, then closes the connection and doesn't accept another call from him.

Outmaneuvered.

Not too happy about this he walks back to the bedroom, but when he finds his men spread out on the mattress, side by side with legs slightly entangled, their erections strong and proud jutting out from their fists, he decides that since he can't change it anyway, he might as well keep going with the flow.

"Come to us, Chris," Kirk says, and he crawls onto the bed, joining them.

*

Dael was right, Pike thinks when he lays on the bed an hour later with a cushion supporting his head, McCoy crouched over him on all fours. It is different, not the least because the doc is more relaxed and open. In this case literally, thanks to Kirk's fingers in his ass. Kirk is in the lead, and Pike is fine with it; having watched the man play out his authority a few times in recordings and once in a joined night, he knows he's in for a treat. And it's much safer than playing with the doc, as Kirk's few orders for Pike are always more like suggestions, staying far away from any challenging aspects.

"I'll open you up for Chris. Make you ready for him. Want to watch you take his dick up your ass and ride him." Each of Kirk's words causes a little gasp in McCoy; makes his shoulders sag a little in anticipation and surrender.

Pike licks his lips, still the taste of the doc on them; he'd first sucked him close to orgasm, then given him a long, deep rim job, something McCoy rarely allowed to happen. Tonight, though, McCoy definitely isn't set out for resistance and it shows in all the many ways he surrenders to his husband's whims. Pike marvels at the sight. So often his lover fights him all the way — and Pike loves their battle of wills, no doubt — but there's something breathtakingly touching about seeing the doc yield like this, driven by his bottomless love for his husband. It's once again there, that aura of Jim&Bones, of just belonging together, that Pike had witnessed back at their mountain retreat, but this time he can just enjoy it in awe and shared compassion.

He's at peace — well, maybe at a really excited peace with his hand around his dick, keeping it hard and aroused which is easy from the prospect of Leonard riding him soon. The pleasant tension runs all down his legs and up to his stomach, and his dick jumps excitedly when the doc crawls over him, putting kisses all over his skin. The man's a gift, both men are, and he runs both hands over the doc's body, whimpering a little as Kirk takes his erection in hand and stimulates him further.

"Careful, please," Pike gasps, and the touch moves to his balls instead, the sight blocked by the doc's body, all broad chest and pronounced arm muscles.

"Get down on him, Bones. Ride him," Kirk orders, and Pike holds his breath as McCoy slowly sinks down on his dick, tightly burying it inside his snug ass.

"Chris…" McCoy whispers, voice shaken.

"Love you too, doc," Pike whispers back throatily, lacing one hand into McCoy's head to pull him into a kiss. His tongue pushes in, hard and demanding, and he keeps his hold when McCoy starts to move, fucking himself on Pike's dick with little groans and whimpers that feed Pike's own arousal like wind feeds a wildfire. At last he releases his grip so that McCoy can sit upright, ride him harder. He captures the doc's hands, never letting his eyes drift from the intense gaze of his wonderful lover — watches the doc slowly falling apart, his movements becoming more erratic with every glide downwards.

Then it's suddenly too much, and Pike comes forcefully, thrashing upwards in jerky movements until he's all done and spent, his dick getting soft and slipping out of McCoy. As most times, the doc hasn't come from the ride alone and now leans over him with a shaky breath, his leaking dick drawing a slick circle on Pike's stomach.

"So hot," Kirk mutters from behind the doc, followed by the tiny sounds of kisses.

"Yeah," Pike agrees, still breathing heavily. He pulls McCoy down into another kiss, and the doc gets on all fours for it, which brings his ass into optimal position for Kirk.

"Fuck, Bones, you're so ready, all lubed up by Chris' come." Without further preamble, Kirk takes a hold on the doc's hips and pushes in. McCoy groans into Pike's mouth, then sinks down on his elbows, his head on Pike's shoulder facing away from him. Pike runs his hand over the sweaty skin, caressing every bit within his reach while watching Kirk making love to their lover.

"Yes —" Kirk's drawn-out, satisfied moan indicates his orgasm much sooner than expected, and Kirk sinks forward, putting his arms around McCoy's waist, hands somewhere higher.

"Jim, please, need to come," McCoy begs shakily.

"Not yet, Bones, not yet." Out of breath, Kirk pulls away, motioning his husband to sprawl onto the bed on his back.

McCoy's erection is in full bloom, every vein pronounced, and Pike's balls twitch in sympathy of how much orgasm denial could ache.

"Lick him clean, Chris," Kirk says huskily. For a second, Pike is surprised, not having expected this; but then the idea goes straight down to his dick. He crawls between McCoy's spread legs, lifting McCoy's knees so that he can reach the slick skin between his thighs more easily, and then licks the sticky wetness off him stripe by stripe, come and lube and whatever else there's in the mix. Licks from the soft skin of the inner thighs up to the elongated sack, making the balls dance under his tongue. Circles the rougher skin around the hole and finally dips his tongue into the puckered muscle, greedily eating out everything he can reach.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, comes from McCoy's lips in a steady stream, and Pike smirks against McCoy's groin as he places a last kiss on the ignored erection, then moves upwards and claims a kiss from his resistant lover, feeding the mix of tastes into his unwelcoming mouth.

"You're disgusting," McCoy whines when he pulls back.

"Sometimes," Pike admits and reaches out for his nearby juice bottle, taking some gulps himself before keeping one in his mouth to feed the doc with it, much like the doc had fed him only hours ago. McCoy accepts the liquid instantly, moving it back and forth in his mouth to flush away the come taste before swallowing it.

Pike rolls off to the side and looks around to find Kirk next to them, half-raised on one elbow, his other hand loosely on his pulsing erection. "Hottest show I've had in a long time." Kirk stills his movement with a hungry sigh, then gets up on his knees and reaches for a condom and a small bottle.

"We bought it yesterday. It's even better stuff than the cream we got from you last time," Kirk explains under Pike's questioning gaze as he first puts on the condom, then generously lubes himself up with the liquid. "Goes straight to the prostate and does magical things to it, right, Bones?"

The doc bites his lip, not fast enough to keep the needy whimper down.

"Get on your knees, hands to the headboard," Kirk orders McCoy, and the doc scrambles up and turns around, presenting his incredible ass.

"I'm going to fuck you until you come, no matter how long it takes," Kirk proclaims, and moves behind his husband to slowly insert himself into the still wet hole. "Going to ride you so hard, give Chris a damn good show." Kirk rotates his hips, a throaty moan the welcome answer. "Want you to make all those needy noises, just like that. Want to make you plead and beg but nobody is going to touch your dick. I'm going to ride you until you get off just like that, just from my dick riding your well-fucked ass."

McCoy hangs his head between his outstretched arms, holding onto the headboard for dear life as Kirk starts taking him in earnest, long hard strokes that have got to feel like getting pierced. Pike is curled next to them, one hand cradling his own soft erection which despite the mind-blowing view is a little undecided whether it should get up again. His eyes keep straining to the moving hips; obviously his brain wants to focus on the porn more than on the marvelous expression on his lover's faces, McCoy's slightly open lips and closed eyes, his face contorted from half arousal, half sweet pain as the ride goes on. Kirk's eyes are open, the man all concentrated body in action, a rhythm so steady that you could write music for it. A veritable fucking machine, Pike can't help thinking, and it's obviously the thought his dick needed because now it twitches and rises a little, and he runs his hand along its length with a sigh. It won't be enough for another ride, and from the look on his men's faces, they would be more than done when they're through with this one, but oh, he really wants to come again.

"Come on, Bones," Kirk grunts after a while, obviously getting a little sore despite the original proclamation of endless fucking. "Come on and get off, because if I come before you, I'm not going to let you come anyway. If I come before you, I'm going to pull out and tie you down between us, hands up your head, plug in your ass to keep you wet and open, and then we'll take turns on you, going to fuck you all night until you come, all damn night and you can't do a thing about it, we just keep fucking you over and over again —"

With a garbled sound from deep his chest, McCoy arches, and with his leftover presence of mind, Pike puts one palm underneath the doc's dick, capturing the sperm that gets first shot out, then slowly dribbles out of the slit, captures it until the doc's all milked out and the couple stills.

"Look at me, doc," Pike rasps and gets up on his knees, the palm with the come lifted up to his chin. "Going to eat your come." He licks through it, the gelatinous mass sticking to his skin and tongue. "Yours, doc."

McCoy makes another strangled sound, then tilts his head and stretches out his tongue in a pleading gesture.

"You want some? Want to lick your come out of my hand?" Pike lifts it up, feeding the leftovers to the doc, smearing it over his mouth and cheeks before leaning over and licking it off again. Their tongues meet and deep inside his body, Pike can feel his own second orgasm approaching, fighting its way through his exhausted body, along overworked nerves. Then there's suddenly Kirk behind him, taking a hold on his dick and jerking him off with sure movements. The wave springs quickly, harshly, drowning Pike in a storm of colors and sounds and smells until he wavers back to reality, sandwiched between his supportive lovers.

They all ease down onto the mattress, and spent is too weak a word for how they feel.

"You're unbelievable," McCoy mutters. "Just… fuck."

"Yeah," Kirk mumbles with effort, and Pike simply resigns to a grunt.

They fall asleep, messy as they are, and wake up a few hours later, taking a really necessary shower before changing the bedding and getting back to sleep, curling around each other to enjoy their last hours together.

*

It's early morning, and Pike is instantly awake when he hears the long-awaited sound of the main door. Seconds later, Dael is standing on the threshold to the bedroom, looking at them with a smile.

"Come here," he whispers and waves her inside, relieved when she joins them without ado. She strips out of her clothes and slips into bed at his side. "Darling…" he buries his nose in her hair when she crawls into his arms, holding her tight. "Everything okay?"

"Yes." She sighs happily, then yawns.

"Did you get any sleep?" he whispers.

"No. Did you?" He can feel her smirk against his skin.

"A few hours." He strokes her back for a moment, then drifts back into sleep. He wakes up next to the sound of the shower and the smell of fresh coffee. "Rise and shine," a fresh-smelling Kirk says and holds a tray with four cups for them. Dael uncurls and sits up, taking one; Pike takes another.

"Good morning, sweethearts," McCoy states as he comes in from the bathroom, toweling his body. He's visibly awake and ready for the day, the man that surrendered in sweet abandon last night hidden again behind the necessary walls they all built around their emotions. They wouldn't be able to function otherwise. On this brand new morning, they're all back to being Starfleet officers, having a last coffee together before his men pack their bags and fly away. There are brief kisses and hugs, shared on the way to the shower, in the corridor; moments of leaning against each other, listening to words that don't say much, don't go deep.

It's only when they're all at the 'fleet shuttle airport, quickly passing through the checkpoints on Pike's helpful authorization into a secluded waiting area, that the atmosphere changes tangibly.

"Going to have a minute with Dael," McCoy proclaims without preamble and takes her aside. Pike and Kirk watch them for a second, then turn around to face each other, a little bit at loss. Kirk clears his throat.

"Chris — there's something you should know about Dael." Kirk hesitates.

On this opening, Pike can't help tensing a little, bracing himself for bad news. "Yes?"

"She doesn't have a regular wingman."

"For Advanced Flight or in her year?" Pike asks.

"Both. I wasn't sure whether I should tell you but it's not something she told me in confidence — I mostly deduced it from her stories. I'd prefer you not to mention me when you bring up the theme, but I think you should know."

Damn. Virtually everyone has a wingman in their second year; it's the best friend or buddy or at least someone you'd want to rely on for missed classes or a coffee in the cadet's mess. He had John, Jim had Bones. Even the less popular cadets bonded one way or the other. Without a wingman, academy life it is not just tough, it's hell, and while Pike could be a lot of things, he's not a cadet in her year and track so he just can't fill that slot.

"Think she ever had one?" Before getting in a relationship with me and ending in the yellow press, is what Pike doesn't voice. He remembers her roommate from the first year but that had ended quickly and Pike had actually been in favor of that development back then. He hadn't thought it would leave Dael without anybody at all. She'd managed to hide the truth behind the few friends she'd made in the club and her relationship with Caitleen, but these couldn't make up for a missing wingman either.

Kirk shakes his head once more. "Not sure, but I doubt that."

"Not good," Pike says flatly. "Not good at all." He feels decidedly guilty; after all his concerns about how the brass would accept their relationship, it's clear he'd overlooked the much more important aspect of her academy year colleagues. On the other hand, he could only deal with things that are reported to him, so next time he'd know to try harder to get the truth out of her.

"That's why I told you. Don't know what you could do about it, but I wanted you to know. She's such a great person. She doesn't deserve that."

"Thanks for telling me, Jim," Pike says. He agrees, he doesn't have a clue either what he could do about it, but it's better to know it.

Kirk gently touches his upper arm. "Chris — you're doing a great job with keeping out of her academy life, and I understand that you don't want to be accused of favoritism. But I also know that when she was your protégée, you managed to make some small maneuvers to help her, with the club job and the drive to the graves and all. It's perfectly alright to do the same for your lover. Partners are supposed to support each other, and she does a great job. Don't let her fight all her battles on her own."

Pike nods. "I know. I need to find more balance." He covers Kirk's hand with his own, unlacing it from his arm and placing a kiss into the palm. "Thank you, Jim," he rasps, placing another kiss onto the fingertips before looking up from them.

"I've got to thank you," Kirk says almost coyly. "You were fabulous."

Pike captures Kirk's chin, drawing him close. "I knew I would ruin something wonderful if I couldn't get my act together. Leonard helped a lot." He licks over the inviting lips, then leans forward to slip his tongue inside. "Chris…" Kirk soon moans and pushes him a little away, adjusting his uniform. "We've got to leave in a few minutes and I'd rather not fight a hard-on half the shuttle ride."

"Why, you're not having sex with the doc in the closet anymore?" Pike asks amused, placing a few kisses along the chin.

"Well — sometimes," Kirk admits with a grin. His eyes brighten, and Pike turns his head to see McCoy and Dael walking towards them, not quite hand in hand but comfortably close.

"What do you think they talked about?" Kirk asks.

Pike shrugs. "I have no idea, and I won't ask." Despite Kirk's attempt to stay away from him, his lover now has one hand on Pike's ass, which brings the subject of untimely erections to his mind too.

The two reach them and part to join their live-in partners.

"Stop kissing my husband," McCoy states amused and slips his own tongue into Kirk's mouth, keeping him in check when he tries to pull away.

"Damn, Bones," Kirk mutters huskily afterwards, and uncomfortably shifts his position. Above them, a light flashes before the speaker announces that the shuttle is ready for being boarded.

"Guess we've got to go," McCoy states superfluously. He sighs audibly as he parts from Kirk and gives Dael a hug and a kiss on her forehead. "Take care, kid." He smiles at her slight glare, patting her head. "Sorry for teasing you but you are a kid, compared to the old man next to you." McCoy moves to Pike, and their hands automatically find each other. "I hate to leave you," the doc admits quietly. "But I'm glad to know you won't be alone."

One of his hands moves to the back of Pike's head, cradling it so that they end forehead to forehead. "Love you so much, Chris," McCoy whispers.

"I love you too, Leonard." Pike closes his eyes. "Take care of Jim. I want you to come back in good health, both of you." Their lips meet tenderly with just a bit of tongue and a fucking lot of emotion that's getting to Pike more than it should, an instant heat spreading in his chest. He draws away, giving McCoy's hand a last squeeze before moving on to Kirk who just releases Dael from a rather long, intense kiss.

"I'll keep him safe for you," Kirk says with a gleam in his eyes as they hug and kiss.

"No, Jim," Pike states. "You keep him safe for us. In the future, I'll read every damn mission report of you in time and don't you dare to break my brain. Promise me to be careful."

Kirk gives him a lopsided smile. "I try, Chris, but you know how it is…"

"Yes, I do." Pike brushes through the captain's hair. "Give the Enterprise a hug from me."

"Sure." There's a last eye contact, and a last squeeze of hands, and then they leave, two regal 'fleet men walking towards the shuttle bay in long, energetic steps and soon vanishing behind closing doors.

"They're gone," Pike says, his heart heavy — but then he meets Dael's eyes, and yes, they are gone, but he still isn't alone, and that makes a hell of a difference. He blinks, pushing the damn teary feeling into the back of his mind. Bad enough that they just had a good-bye worth of a Hollywood cliché right on a Starfleet shuttle point, now he was in acute danger of falling apart.

Really, a damn sap.

In a sudden decision, he takes her hand. "Let's go out."

"I thought we'd go home again." Dael stifles a yawn. "I'm dead tired."

"It's a bright day. We could go to a beach. Beam, actually."

She looks at him with a slightly concerned frown. "Your beam account will be depleted soon if you keep abusing it like this."

Pike doesn't tell her that if they want to go anywhere at all, they've got to beam because he's working on the edge of his energy. He had kept taking large bites from his limited resources over this vacation, and now he's paying for it, fully knowing that it's his own fault despite the fact that McCoy had never once chastised him for it.

But it's really a wonderful day, and he's not going cry over spilled milk; he could at least look up into the open sky with Dael and dream of being out there with them all.

"Come on," Pike repeats, and she yields to his determination.

Maybe he finally gets into the mood of showing off what he has, he thinks when they sit on a bench at the beach at last, resting his hand on her leg and licking a drop of ice cream from her lips, blind to any people passing by and uncaring of the future for a tiny, carefree moment.

***

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