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Kirk paused before entering Sickbay, wondering what the hell he was getting himself into.
His attraction had been growing for McCoy for years, he’d acknowledged that much. Back at the Academy, Bones had been his only friend for months as he’d adjusted to life in Starfleet; everyone was By The Book, Square, all the cadets overachieving assholes trying to please their professors and one-up their peers.
Kirk knew better; sometimes reasoning with a Cardassian wasn’t the best move when it came to Vulcan peacekeeping operations, especially with shared history and unfulfilled expectations on either side, and the engines COULD go faster if he just encouraged the engineer hard enough, damnit; he just needed a good enough engineer, someone who really knew his ship and its power like Bones knew where and how the very blood flowed through his own veins. Kirk unconsciously dragged his thumb over his inner arm, imagining what Bones would do with his wrists if he let him. Probably force another vaccination on him. Jim grimaced.
So what if he wasn’t the most sober he’d ever been. Kirk swayed a bit in place, blinked twice and scowled, trying to draw resolve and walk through those fucking doors. Sometimes his bravest moves were done when he could just get his doubts out of the way and ACT. Not thinking was sometimes the way to go, Kirk knew that. The teachers at Starfleet Academy tried to tell you otherwise, to always think carefully through each decision, what would be the best outcome and what side effects would happen to the crew, but Kirk knew better; a slow captain was a dead crew. His father’s death had taught him that much, at least.
Fuck, but the walls needed to stay still for a minute. He blinked a few more times, hoping to clear his head, and it stopped. A lopsided grin crossed his face. That’s better. An image of Bones flashed through his mind. All the better to seduce you, Mr. McCoy. Kirk’s eyebrow’s furrowed a little; that’s not right. All the better to seduce you, Bones. No, that wasn’t right, either. All the better to pleasure you. Jim’s smirk was back with full force. He may be a lady’s man, and only experienced with that section of the population up until this point, but he knew what worked on a partner and what didn’t. And that might even work on his paranoid, a bit bitchy and more experienced, but always congenial Chief Medical Officer. Seducing women was easy, how hard could this be, anyway?
Taking a breath he convinced himself he wouldn’t need, he walked through the doors and looked around. There was no one on shift, unsurprising considering the hour—usually it was only Bones on shift at this time, puzzling over a tough case or ‘pleasure’ reading over a pandemic that would threaten to spread to the greater populace and infect the crew—and strode in with a confidence he really did feel with every passing step. Really. What was involved with man-sex, anyway? Probably Bones would be even less experienced than he was and he could just wing it and pretend he knew what he was doing. That was it. Kirk’s grin widened.
“Bones? Are you there?” He peaked his head into the intensive care unit, finding it empty. “Where are you, you lazy ass.”
“Here.” The sound was muffled, but he could make it out from Bone’s office. Steeling his resolve again, he pushed through the doors and put on his best sexy smirk, hoping McCoy would notice. When the doors opened, however, McCoy was staring into a glass of brandy as if it contained the answer to existence.
“My ex-wife wants to get back together,” he stated without pretense and without wavering eye-contact with the brandy. Kirk collapsed into a nearby chair before he even realized what he was doing.
“Bummer,” said Jim. After realizing how young that sounded, he cleared his throat and said instead, “That’s really awful, I’m sorry it happened.” Then he wanted to slap himself in the head. But that might give away everything, although McCoy seemed too wrapped up in his glass of brandy to notice Kirk yet, anyway. “I mean, you deserve better. Someone of better standing.” Kirk stretched out a bit and shifted his hips forward, trying to ignore the way the ceiling tilted.
“After everything that happened.” McCoy’s voice was thick and brandy-coated, and Jim felt his cock twitch. “She says she made the biggest mistake of her life. She wants me back.” He began to twirl glass between his thumb and forefinger, deep in thought. “God, I feel like a fool.”
Kirk started blinking again, pushing back his drunken haze. Was McCoy seriously thinking of leaving? He’d better not. Kirk scowled. After everything they’d done together, after everything Jim meant to say but hadn’t, he’d better not up and leave this way. “You can’t go, Bones. We need you.” He said instead. They all did need him. He couldn’t go. Not yet.
“I know that, Jim.” Bones sounded like the words were being dragged out of him, like he didn’t mean to be saying them. “Don’t you think I know that? That woman is incorrigible, anyways.”
He pushed out of his chair and started pacing, back and forth, before stopping short of the personnel filing cabinet, studying it again as if he had a personal vendetta and the cabinet had committed a great offense.
“Damn it, Jim. I know. Why is she contacting me after all these years, anyways? What does she really want? All these thoughts cross my mind and yet I wonder, what if she’s telling the truth?” Bones moved over to his desk and seemed to crumple in his chair, leaning into his hand. “What if she really does want me back?”
Kirk frowned in consternation. After hearing Bones’ ex-wife in countless casual jokes it was surreal, to say the least, talking about her as if she were a tangible person, capable of want and feelings, a real-life woman Bones could leave Kirk for. Jim’s frown deepened. “What does she really want, anyway?”
“Ah, I don’t know. She got everything in the divorce. Don’t have nothin’ left she could want.” Bones’ accent was more pronounced tonight, and he didn’t bother hiding it. “That woman got my soul, Jim. Got nothing left to protect but this ship and her crew.” McCoy seemed to turn in himself, slowly rubbing his temples with steeped fingers.
“You’re not going to go back, are you?” Jim felt his heartbeat quicken, but he didn’t care. “You can’t leave. We need you! And you can’t just—“He felt his stomach turn inside out too late and almost let loose all over his Chief Medical Officer’s floor. Jim clenched his stomach with one hand over his stomach, counting backwards from ten with great will and determination.
“Jim, are you…drunk?” McCoy’s voice was light for the first time all night and sounded a bit bewildered. And there was something else there; something Jim wasn’t willing to analyze quite yet, something he didn’t want to believe was completely true. McCoy, if possible, slipped even deeper into his Southern drawl. “Didn’t we have a talk about…expectations of a commanding officer on this ship?”
Thinking fast, Kirk decided to play dumb. Playing dumb didn’t always work on the bridge, but it always got him laid faster. “What are you talking about, Bones?”
“Oh, you know.” Bones rose from his chair and was staring at him with an intensity that was causing him to leak his pants a little as the older man rounded the desk, the precome dripping from Jim’s half erect cock. “I’m just a good ol’ country doctor. I couldn’t know what I’d be talking myself into.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Jim studied his shoes. Damn it, this isn’t the way he planned things. By now Bones would already be seduced and would be falling all over himself to suck Jim off. “I dunno, either.”
Before Jim knew what was happening, he was draped over McCoy’s leg and was trying to regain balance. “Maybe a lil’ discipline would help ya.” Bone’s voice was strangely thick.
“Maybe…” With anyone else, Jim would have found a way to squirm free. He would have found a way to make his own needs prioritized. Instead, he said, “what do you think I need?”
Bones’ breath caught, and Jim couldn’t tell if he had said something decidedly Unsexy. But Bones’ calloused hand was making small circles on his ass and he couldn’t think right now, and anyways, he could always count on Bones’ rational, paranoid mind in any real emergency situation.
“Ah think…” Bones’ accent became even more thick, if that was possible. “That a saucy young man like you may need some discipline.” He smirked, and then his hand came crashing down on Jim’s right cheek before he had a chance to protest.
Jim DID want to protest and make this…embarrassment stop right away—he wasn’t that drunk yet—but his voice wasn’t working properly and he ended up crying out and moaning like a child. He could practically hear Bones’ smirk seeping into his voice, this time. “Needed discipline, indeed.” Bones’ hand dragged over the lower half of his ass again, slow and sensual, and Kirk bit his lip to hold back a moan. “That good, Jim?”
Before he could respond, the hand came crashing down again and again. Jim cried out with each hearty slap, embarrassing himself with his lack of restraint, but he managed instead, “That’s the least you can do, McCoy?” in his most formal, what-kind-of-doctor-are-you-voice, yet.
He could feel Bones tense over him, then the smirk reappeared in the older man’s voice full-force. “Not in the least. Turn over.”
Jim caught his breath—wasn’t he planning to talk to Bones about this first?—and turned to face his CMO. Spread his legs a little over Bones’ knee.
“Perfect.” McCoy murmured. His hand started at his knee but slowly dragged up to Jim’s inner thigh. Kirk stifled a moan and Bones caressed his fingertips to Jim’s waist.
“What did you come here for, really?” McCoy murmured into Kirk’s neck. Jim kept his eyes closed. This isn’t how he envisioned things at all.
“I want you to spank me.” He admitted slowly, like it was being wretched from him. “I want you to make me…call you…” he shut his eyes.
“I understand.” If anything, McCoy sounded gleeful, not the least of what Kirk expected. “Turn over and lean against the desk.”
Kirk immediately shifted and got into position. He waited with baited breath, for once his drunken haze clearing.
“I want you to call me ‘Daddy’, Jim,” he demanded. Jim’s jaw dropped in shock.
Before he knew what was coming, McCoy was raining down slaps to rump that forced Kirk to press his face into the desk and grimace in agony. “Whoa, wait, stop!”
Bones’ grunted and eased up, but not nearly enough for Kirk’s comfort. Every once in a while his CMO would slowly massage the crack between his cheeks, pushing in slow and undulated and almost making him come in his pants.
“S—Stop, Bones, I—“
“Call me Daddy.” Bones grunted. It definitely was not what Jim was expecting, not what his slowly sobering mind told him what was rational at all. But Kirk could improvise when needed, damn it.
“P—please, Daddy, I’m sorry! Please stop.” He thrusted his hips to meet the older man’s palm for good measure.
This made Bones moan all the more, and his hand came down harder. “Jim!” he cried.
Before he knew what he was doing, he was coming into his pants, more sobering than any surprise Orion cheap trick.
“Bones.” He cried, collapsing onto his CMO’s desk.
“Jim!” Bones cried in a tight voice, then slumped across Kirk’s back. He was pretty sure Bones had come in his pants as well, but the smirk in the man’s voice was sure and confident and gave away nothing. “Good boy.” He caressed his rear again, making slow, light circles, and Kirk shivered.