Unexpected Consequences
Title: Unexpected Consequences
Author: crazywriter10
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: R
Warning: Slash, MPreg
Disclaimer: Not mine, I'll return them when I'm done.
Summary: Sex on another planet leaves Jim and Bones with some unexpected consequences.
Author's Note: Yup. I decided to go down this road. This is only my second piece in the Star Trek XI universe, and my first Kirk/Bones pairing. This is ongoing, as it comes out of my head, and if I got anything horribly wrong or out of character, someone please let me know. This is actually my first mpreg fic, so this is a leap into the unknown for me. Still, I hope you enjoy it.
“You think this is a good idea?”
“Shh, Bones,” Jim murmured, fingers fumbling for the liquid that served as oil/soap (depending on the purpose) from the dish by the side of the tub, and trying to stay on task. “They said the water would ‘enhance’ us. And our desires.”
Which was why they were currently in a huge bathtub filled with something not entirely water that was driving them both up the wall with the need to have sex.
“Yeah, but,” and whatever he was going to say was lost in a moan as Jim worked two very mobile fingers in him.
“This isn’t the sex pollen fiasco,” Jim grunted, adding another finger while trying to reassure McCoy.
And by sex pollen fiasco he meant the planet they’d visited, inhaled some strange plant spores, and then had to be separated by the rest of the away team so as not to insult their hosts by fucking like bunnies in public. Later, Bones would be surprised they hadn’t offended anybody by walking around in the state of arousal that both he and Jim had been in.
Bones eyebrows met his hairline, following the pull of Jim’s hand on his hips. He was fully intent on telling Jim exactly why this was probably not a good idea when Jim tilted his hips and entered him on one swift motion. Bones lost his higher brain functions at that point.
After that, any second thoughts seemed to go out the proverbial window.
Jim listened to Bones throw up for the fourth morning in a row, less than a week after their mission to Eros III (the planet with the tub). He sat on their bed, staring at the bathroom door and slowly coming to the realization that this was not right. Something was not right with his lover.
But getting a doctor to see a doctor was not going to be easy. And Bones would fight him every step of the way.
The bathroom door opened.
“Don’t say a word,” Bones growled, face still decidedly green, one hand pressed to his stomach.
Jim hadn’t kept his mouth shut on a lot of topics, and he wasn’t about to start now. “It’s been four days, Bones.”
“I’m fine.”
Jim heard the gurgle of a distressed stomach in the silence between them from across the room. Seconds later Bones dived back into the bathroom.
When Bones emerged half an hour later, Jim used every trick, including the puppy eyes, and cajoled/threatened the older man accordingly until Bones gave in and went to the infirmary. Though Bones was sitting on the biobed, it was quite another for him to actually behave like a patient. He cursed and growled at every nurse who came too close, including Chapel who was only following M’Benga’s instructions to draw some blood. She responded with a sweet smile, a harder-than-usual needle stick, and the threat of a hypo. Jim stifled a grin behind his hand; McCoy crossed his arms over his chest, but kept his mouth shut.
M’Benga appeared sometime later, an odd look on his face.
“Well?” Bones snapped. He was pissed off and more than slightly green around the gills. Jim’s fingers itched toward the trashcan.
“I’ve done every test I can think of, and they all tell me the same thing,” M’Benga said, almost afraid. The glower that Bones was sending him, not diminished in the least by the fact that he was getting steadily greener, was probably not helping. The clench in his jaw became obvious; Jim took hold of the can.
“Congratulations, doctor. You’re pregnant.”
McCoy turned the color of pea soup and Jim stuck the can under his nose in record time as Bones heaved again.
This was so much worse than the pollen fiasco, on so many levels.
There were a million thoughts running through James T. Kirk’s head, the loudest being that Bones was going to kill him.
The heaving on the bed beside him showed no signs of letting up.
Make that slowly and painfully, Jim amended.
Author: crazywriter10
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: R
Warning: Slash, MPreg
Disclaimer: Not mine, I'll return them when I'm done.
Summary: Sex on another planet leaves Jim and Bones with some unexpected consequences.
Author's Note: Yup. I decided to go down this road. This is only my second piece in the Star Trek XI universe, and my first Kirk/Bones pairing. This is ongoing, as it comes out of my head, and if I got anything horribly wrong or out of character, someone please let me know. This is actually my first mpreg fic, so this is a leap into the unknown for me. Still, I hope you enjoy it.
“You think this is a good idea?”
“Shh, Bones,” Jim murmured, fingers fumbling for the liquid that served as oil/soap (depending on the purpose) from the dish by the side of the tub, and trying to stay on task. “They said the water would ‘enhance’ us. And our desires.”
Which was why they were currently in a huge bathtub filled with something not entirely water that was driving them both up the wall with the need to have sex.
“Yeah, but,” and whatever he was going to say was lost in a moan as Jim worked two very mobile fingers in him.
“This isn’t the sex pollen fiasco,” Jim grunted, adding another finger while trying to reassure McCoy.
And by sex pollen fiasco he meant the planet they’d visited, inhaled some strange plant spores, and then had to be separated by the rest of the away team so as not to insult their hosts by fucking like bunnies in public. Later, Bones would be surprised they hadn’t offended anybody by walking around in the state of arousal that both he and Jim had been in.
Bones eyebrows met his hairline, following the pull of Jim’s hand on his hips. He was fully intent on telling Jim exactly why this was probably not a good idea when Jim tilted his hips and entered him on one swift motion. Bones lost his higher brain functions at that point.
After that, any second thoughts seemed to go out the proverbial window.
Jim listened to Bones throw up for the fourth morning in a row, less than a week after their mission to Eros III (the planet with the tub). He sat on their bed, staring at the bathroom door and slowly coming to the realization that this was not right. Something was not right with his lover.
But getting a doctor to see a doctor was not going to be easy. And Bones would fight him every step of the way.
The bathroom door opened.
“Don’t say a word,” Bones growled, face still decidedly green, one hand pressed to his stomach.
Jim hadn’t kept his mouth shut on a lot of topics, and he wasn’t about to start now. “It’s been four days, Bones.”
“I’m fine.”
Jim heard the gurgle of a distressed stomach in the silence between them from across the room. Seconds later Bones dived back into the bathroom.
When Bones emerged half an hour later, Jim used every trick, including the puppy eyes, and cajoled/threatened the older man accordingly until Bones gave in and went to the infirmary. Though Bones was sitting on the biobed, it was quite another for him to actually behave like a patient. He cursed and growled at every nurse who came too close, including Chapel who was only following M’Benga’s instructions to draw some blood. She responded with a sweet smile, a harder-than-usual needle stick, and the threat of a hypo. Jim stifled a grin behind his hand; McCoy crossed his arms over his chest, but kept his mouth shut.
M’Benga appeared sometime later, an odd look on his face.
“Well?” Bones snapped. He was pissed off and more than slightly green around the gills. Jim’s fingers itched toward the trashcan.
“I’ve done every test I can think of, and they all tell me the same thing,” M’Benga said, almost afraid. The glower that Bones was sending him, not diminished in the least by the fact that he was getting steadily greener, was probably not helping. The clench in his jaw became obvious; Jim took hold of the can.
“Congratulations, doctor. You’re pregnant.”
McCoy turned the color of pea soup and Jim stuck the can under his nose in record time as Bones heaved again.
This was so much worse than the pollen fiasco, on so many levels.
There were a million thoughts running through James T. Kirk’s head, the loudest being that Bones was going to kill him.
The heaving on the bed beside him showed no signs of letting up.
Make that slowly and painfully, Jim amended.