Fic: Just Casual MU Remix
Title: Just Casual MU Remix
MU Remix of: the start of Just Casual by weepingnaiad and abigail89
Fandom & Pairing: Star Trek AOS, Kirk/McCoy
Rating: R
Warnings: mild D/s
Word Count: Around 3600
Summary: Jim and Leonard have been invited to a small New Year’s party by Philip Boyce.
A birthday fic for weepingnaiad. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
Author's note: I set out to do an MU remix of this lovely story Just Casual. But I lost the muse somewhere along the line. However the first part does hang together so I've dug this out of the harddrive as a little birthday present.
“Bones! Aren’t you ready yet? I’ve been waiting for-freakin-ever.”
Leonard looked up as Jim loped into his bedroom, his face heating as he stood there with his torso bare holding two shirts, while Jim was fully clothed in black leather pants and jacket over a too-tight white t-shirt.
“Shut it, Jim. I don’t make a habit of wearing civvies and I don’t want to look like an idiot tonight.” He jammed his arms into the ebony-colored button. “What the fuck are you wearing, anyway?”
“It’s no big deal, Bones. Just a dinner with Dr Boyce and his wife.”
“No big deal? Are you out of your mind? A dinner with the Chief of Xenoneurosurgery and the captain of the Yorktown? Just a casual invitation? Of course it fucking isn’t. Something is going down here and we don’t know what!” Leonard glared at Jim.
“Yeah, and if we want to know we need to get over there and find out. Hell Bones, we can handle it. Look how much we’ve done already!”
Leonard growled as he buckled his belt: “What we’ve done already is the fucking trouble.”
Jim stepped forward, crowding into his personal space, his eyes laser bright. “And if we play our cards right, this might be the start of the solution. What we have got is that we’re in this together. So can we just stop taking it out on each other?”
Sighing, Leonard wrapped an arm around Jim’s shoulders, feeling the tension in them, even through the old battered leather jacket. “Sorry.”
Jim elbowed him lightly and tapped their foreheads together. “It’s okay, man. We’ll turn this to our advantage. We’re two of the most powerful officers in the Imperial Fleet”.
In theory we are, thought Leonard as he pushed Jim away and turned to the mirror, running a comb through his hair again. It was just a shade too long and one stubborn lock insisted on falling into his eyes no matter what he tried. Suddenly, long fingered hands were reaching up and tousling his hair from behind.
“Lighten up, Bones. You look better with bedhead than that old-man hairdo, anyway. All the better to charm Captain One with.”
“Fuck you, asshole.” He reached for the comb again, but Jim pulled him toward the door. Leonard tried to ignore the little voice in his head that was screaming at him that this was such a bad idea. He looked around for their loaner hovercar - rank had its privileges, after all - but it was nowhere in sight. Instead there was a monstrosity of a shiny, two-wheeled motorcycle, all chrome and black leather. He gulped when Jim straddled the seat and dared him that lazy, easy smile of his that never signaled anything good. The sudden roar of the engine starting blocked out Leonard’s objections.
“Goddammit, Jim!” Leonard hissed even as he settled onto the seat, following James T. Kirk into whatever trouble might come, just as always.
He pulled on the helmet and instantly heard Jim’s throaty laughter in his ear. “Bonesie, if you can survive me, you can survive anything.”
Jim gunned the engines. propelling them through traffic with an easy confidence and an insanely high rate of speed that kept Leonard’s heart in his throat until they hit the highway and the traffic thinned. They sped up, but at least there was more than millimeters between his legs and the other vehicles surrounding them.
Once the sheer white terror had faded, he sucked in a deep breath and smacked his helmet against Jim’s. “Don’t.Ever.Do.That.Again,” he growled through the comm system, his hands wound tightly in Jim’s jacket as the landscape whizzed past.
“Ouch! Dammit, Bones! We’re fine!”
“Says you. I’ll only be perfectly fine when my ass is not clinging to a two-wheeled death trap driven by an insane adrenaline junkie”
Jim caught his tension. “Hey, Bones, why so worried?”
“I didn’t say-”
“Nope, you didn’t. You’d never actually say it out loud, would you? Damned passive, aggressive Southern manners!” Jim huffed, his voice tinged with amusement. “So what’s up, Bones?
“Jim,” he said, using his best do not fuck with your CMO voice, “you know the damned danger here”.
“It’s good to let your hair down and get to know the bigwigs outside of a comm link. No pressure, just a nice casual dinner and drinks. We’re not on the clock, and it’s New Year’s Eve - got to ring it in with style.”
“Jim, they’re Imperial officers. There is no such thing as a casual drink and you know it.”
“Hey, they want to get to know us, get us on-side. How is that a bad thing for us?”
“It’s not,” muttered Leonard, “if that is really what they want.”
Jim was silent for a long moment. “We need allies, Bones.”
And that was the crux of it. They did. Leonard just wished he was sure that an alliance was what was on offer here.
It was all too easily assumed that was needed to survive in Imperial service was ruthlessness, tactical genius and physical strength. All those were of course a given. But from there on you survived on your alliances. No one could watch in all directions all the time. If you weren’t being stabbed between the shoulder-blades, you were being reamed up the ass. Either way, you were screwed without someone to watch your back.
Even through the haze of alcohol and motion sickness, Leonard had known that on the recruitment shuttle and had seen the potential in his cocky neighbor. The attitude, the confidence, the daring. Either the kid was way out of his depth and would be dead within the week, or he as a master operator. Jim too had recognized a kindred spirit. They’d hacked each other’s personnel files within 12 hours of landing at the Academy and laughed together when both received warnings from the hack-alerts they surreptitiously set on their own files.
They’d had so much in common, coming from old Imperial families where their names carried weight but disadvantaged by dead fathers With no one to pull strings for them. they’d learnt to stand on their own two feet. They’d formed a deadly effective alliance and blazed their way through the Academy, left alone by other cadets after some brutal bar fights in the first few weeks, followed by Leonard getting to treat the victims in the Academy clinic afterwards and Jim to work them over when he was rapidly promoted to TA in the personal combat classes.
Outsiders despite their blue-chip establishment names, they had a capacity to think of innovative solutions that both impressed and intimidated their peers and instructors. They were almost entirely free of the normal harassment and intimidation visited on cadets by instructors and commanders.
Generally Jim blazed forward with the plan that seemed so unlikely that the careful tactical thinking that underlay it was almost entirely concealed. Leonard watched out for the unexpected dangers, the flaws Jim’s ego kept him from seeing, and patched up Jim as and when needed. Leonard was the only one Jim would take criticism from. Jim was the only one Leonard would share his fears with. Together they were tougher than tritanium.
When the Narada disaster went down they proved it. Even as others were standing in collective shock in the aftermath, they - well, Jim - had seen the gap. Pike conveniently out of commission, the other captains still caught in the Laurentian system, Starfleet Intel in the doghouse for not having foreseen the attack, the human populace baying for revenge. By the time everyone had emerged from their collective funk, James T. Kirk had got himself installed as captain of the flagship, with Leonard as his CMO. From cadets to two of the most powerful officers in the Imperial fleet in the space of a few weeks. The Empire had never seen anything like it.
And if it could have ended there, it would have been an extraordinary success story. But life went on. Now they had earned the enmity of every single officer who had been higher in the pecking order when they had reached out for the plum positions on the Enterprise. Which meant every single officer in the entire Imperial fleet. What was more, they had put ideas in the heads of every single ambitious ensign and cadet, ideas of just how far they might leapfrog up the ladder of power. Virtually none actually had the ability for it but it wouldn’t stop a number dying in the attempt.
Jim knew the danger, he was subtly trying to form alliances among his crew. But vengeful admirals, sidelined in his captaincy, had made sure he got the ruthless Spock as first officer. Nothing like a subordinate who had tried to strangle you on the bridge. And of course he came accompanied by comms officer Uhura who had hated Jim since they first met in the bar in Riverside. Jim thought he could win them over. Leonard had his doubts but either way it would take time, time they did not have. Sulu and Chekov were on their side since the Narada battle. Scotty seemed grateful enough to be off his ice planet but was too much of a loose cannon to be fully trusted. Dr M’Benga and Nurse Chapel were both clearly plants from the same ‘well-wishers’ who had landed them with Spock.
No one else had reached out to them. Despite their ability and their success they stood alone in chilly isolation. Leonard knew Jim was hoping that this was a friendly overture from Boyce and One. But both had reputations for utter ruthlessness and Leonard had his doubts.
“Stop worrying, Bones. I swear I can hear your mind churning.”
“Dammit Jim, we could easily be driving to our deaths.”
Jim shook his head, dirt kicking up behind Leonard as he slid wide on the turn off. “No one escapes death forever. But tonight’s not the night. I’ll get us out of this alive, you know I will.”
Leonard clutched tight to Jim’s jacket, gritting out, “One day, you cocky kid, your luck with run out. And I’d like to get out of this alive and in one piece, if you’d be so kind.”
Jim slowed and pulled off the road, stopping the bike in front of an old fashioned bungalow. Leonard lifted his head and looked around, taking in the view. The ocean crashed below them, the clouds were low and ominous, the weather unseasonably warm, heralding storms. The house was nicely remote, just the place to get rid of unwanted guests, no neighbors to hear the screams. The hairs on the back of Leonard’s neck were standing up. Even Jim’s natural confidence seemed subdued.
The door slid open and there was Captain Philip Boyce, Chief of Xenoneurosurgery, holding a drink and looking casual and quite comfortable.
“Jim! Leo! I was beginning to think you weren’t coming!”
He stepped back, allowing them to walk in. “Just drop your things in the lockbox. The kitchen’s this way. C’mon. You’re a few drinks behind.”
Leonard felt oddly naked as his agonizer, phaser and small set of deadly hypos went into the box. No Imperial officer ever travelled unarmed but equally no officer let an armed guest into their home. He watched as Jim put in the same, minus the hypos but adding a blackjack and a throwing knife. Of course he knew Jim still had a shiv in one boot and a fine metal garrotte threaded into the collar of his jacket. And Leonard had several poison-tipped needles in the cuffs of his ebony button-up. Still he felt badly undressed as he let Boyce press a glass of a very decent bourbon into his hand and then followed him towards the living room.
The murmur of music and of voices singing made him shoot a sharp look at Jim. Clearly there was more than just Boyce and One here. That was unexpected. Already they were at a disadvantage. They entered the room to the surprising sight of Admiral Christopher Pike lounging on a chair, barefoot, hair tousled, strumming a guitar. Seated around him were three women. Two lovely brunettes were singing along while a petite blonde looked on with an indulgent smile. It was a scene glorious in its domesticity. Leonard felt a rush of nausea. They might as well be staring into a pit of vipers.
Pike looked up and greeted them with a sunny smile. “Well, well, well. The entertainment has arrived!” Leonard moved subtly closer to Jim, angling slightly so their backs were towards each other. It was a futile move, though. They were hopelessly outclassed.
“And aren’t they such pretty boys,” commented Captain One. She was a tall powerful woman, cleared a trained fighter.
“So sweet together, one dark, one light.” That came from Commander Caitlin Barry, Chief Engineer on the ISS Yorktown and One’s second officer. She ran a hand through long wavy dark hair. Her nails glimmered in the light. Leonard had no doubt there were fine blades set under the ostentatious false nails.
Leonard kept a sickly smile plastered on his face as he rapidly calculated odds. He was outranked by everyone in the room. Jim outranked Barry and technically took precedence over One, as captain of the flagship. But the Yorktown was the second ship of the service and One was one of the most experienced officers in the fleet, with over twenty years of experience where Jim had the time it had taken to bring the Enterprise back to Earth. Captain Boyce had even more years behind him and all the connections of his senior position in Starfleet Medical. And Pike was of course an admiral even if a newly minted one. All four of these people had served together on the Yorktown and were known to be a tightly knit cabal, committed to looking out for each other’s interests.
The one who really made his stomach turn was the small blonde woman perched on the sofa behind Chris. Even in her high heels the top of her head would barely reach Leonard’s chin. Her golden hair was cut short on her head, pixie style, and she was lounging in softly worn denims and a peasant-style blouse. Nothing could look more innocuous, nothing could be more dangerous. He’d spent all three years in the Academy very carefully staying away from this woman. He’d not realized that she was part of Pike’s cabal, or more likely sponsor to it. That was a dangerous piece of information to have missed.
The Surgeon General, Branch Admiral Doctor Victoria Turnbull, smiled coolly at him, her deep green eyes startling against her pale skin. She was one of the five most powerful flag officers in Starfleet. That gave this little lynch party - or whatever it actually turned out to be - a level of official protection that would let them get away with almost anything.
She slide down from her perch and walked slowly round the two of them. The silence lay heavy across the room, everyone else clearly waiting on her verdict. Leonard felt like a slave on an auction block, being sized up by a potential buyer. He had no doubt that feeling was quite deliberate.
“Strip,” she ordered.
Both men hesitated and then Jim abruptly pulled off his tight T-shirt. That was Jim all over, Leonard thought. When there was no choice you got on with it, walking into danger with your eyes open, hoping that as circumstances changed, new choices would emerge. Taking a deep breath, he began to unbutton his shirt. They’d been spared this kind of indignity through their Academy years, having established themselves as so powerful so quickly. Leonard had no doubt that if they lived, Jim would wreak unholy revenge. But that didn’t help right now as he stood, bare-chested, bare-footed and faced up to having to lower his pants in front of this coolly assessing audience. With their clothes went the last of their weapons, as their hosts well knew.
He could feel his balls pulling up with fear and felt oddly unbalanced by a worry about appearing unimpressive in the genitalia department. He shook himself mentally. That was the least of his problems. Finally they both stood buck naked, careful to keep their hands at their side, to keep them hanging loose - to do nothing that would show fear. Jim had moved slightly forward, as if trying to draw attention to himself, to shield Leonard. Leonard’s heart twisted. They never spoke of how they felt, they let others think that each used the other. Only in privacy and darkness and silence did they communicate - without voices - with hands and lips and never acknowledged gentleness. But if Jim came out of this dead or injured, Leonard would be wreaking some vengeance of his own.
Admiral Turnbull walked slowly round each of them, prodding a muscle here, stroking a hand across milky pale skin there. She stopped in front of Leonard, running her eyes slowly, blatantly, down his chest and stomach, over his crotch and his thighs. “You’ve been hiding under uniforms and lab coats for too long, doctor,” she smirked, a careless finger trailing across one nipple. “Time to come out and play.”
She turned back to Barry and One. The engineer was draped over her captain’s back, mouthing at an ear as she whispered softly into it. Both were watching the naked men avidly. One’s husband looked on in amusement. “So girls, which one do we want?”
“Kirk, of course,” said One. “Such a reputation, our young blond hero who saved the entire planet. The quintessential ladies man. Let’s see if he lives up to it!”
Jim made a slight bow. “Whatever I can do for you, ladies, with pleasure.” A sideways glance downwards tells Leonard that Jim is already rising to the occasion. Cocky little shit, getting off on it, despite the deadly danger or more likely because of it.
“The pleasure will be all ours, Captain, I do assure you.” Turnbull gave him a sweet smile and turned to Boyce. “Phil. The collars?”
Leonard swallowed hard. Boyce brought two collars out of box, handing one to Turnbull and giving the other to Pike. “Care to do the honors, Chris?” he said. Pike walked up to Leonard, steely grey eyes looking straight into his, the handsome face graced with a small smirk as the heavy ring was set around his neck.
The collars were tooled to look old-fashioned, wide leather with metal buckles and a prominent ring that would take a leash. It sat heavily on his collar bone, squeezing lightly against the tendons of his neck. Not enough to limit his breathing, but enough to make sure he could never forget it was there. The cool brush of the interior, like iced silk, told Leonard that it was in fact made of synthezine. Fucking constrictor collars. Forget leashes. Somewhere there was a remote control and at the first sign of trouble the collar could be activated to squeeze in, as slowly or quickly as the owner desired. There was no easy way out of this.
“You’re an eager little slut, aren’t you,” said Turnbull, looking at Jim’s bobbing cock in amusement. “Phil, I feel like playing dress-up. What else do you have in that chest of yours?”
“A treasure trove of riches,” teased Boyce. “What do you have in mind?”
“A full body harness of some kind. What about that top buckle harness? You know, the one with the latigo straps that buckle in the front.”
Leonard watched dry-mouthed as she put on the harness, with the black straps making a St Andrews cross on Jim’s broad chest, accentuating the pecs and shoulders.
“Oh very pretty,” called out One. “Add these, Victoria.” She threw across a pair of black leather wristbands with studs running down them. “This is such fun. Just like getting my dollies all gussied up when I was an itty-bitty girl, only so much more…. stimulating.”
Leonard bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, trying to pull the blood back out of his own groin. He had no desire to let these vipers know that he was finding watching Jim being dressed up on black bondage gear rather stimulating himself.
“And how about this?” Barry had been rummaging around in the box and now came over twirling a jock strap. The women cooed over it excitedly. “Phil, darling,” called One, “we’re going to need your depilator.”
Leonard watched with quiet horror as One ran the hair-remover around Jim’s cock and balls and along his crack. He was even less keen when she came at him with the thing. Pike stood behind him, a heavy hand on his shoulder holding him in place, a booted foot kicking his legs open to get One get round to his ass. The horrifying thought that he would be dressed up next kept his cock nicely flaccid. Jim might enjoy standing in the limelight but he did not.
The women had Jim step into a black latex jock strap that sat snugly across his newly hairless abdomen, sat in a tight ring around the back of his balls and put two leather straps across the outside of his butt cheeks. Hairless and now even more distended thanks to the cock ring, Jim’s prick looked huge. Leonard was secretly somewhat impressed that he’d ever taken that monstrosity up his own ass.
A sharp click drew his attention back to Jim’s face. Turnbull had clipped a leash to the collar. “We’ll take him to the playroom, Phil. Some girls’ time out. Have fun. Come along, ladies. Oh and Cait, grab a flogger from the toy box while you’re over there.” As she turned away, tugging Jim behind her, Jim quickly, lightly brushed his fingertips over Leonard’s. Leonard knew what the message meant: do what it takes to stay alive. Revenge will come later. He let his worry about Jim drain away, looked across at his two masters for the evening. Admiral Pike and Captain Boyce. He was so fucked.
MU Remix of: the start of Just Casual by weepingnaiad and abigail89
Fandom & Pairing: Star Trek AOS, Kirk/McCoy
Rating: R
Warnings: mild D/s
Word Count: Around 3600
Summary: Jim and Leonard have been invited to a small New Year’s party by Philip Boyce.
A birthday fic for weepingnaiad. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
Author's note: I set out to do an MU remix of this lovely story Just Casual. But I lost the muse somewhere along the line. However the first part does hang together so I've dug this out of the harddrive as a little birthday present.
“Bones! Aren’t you ready yet? I’ve been waiting for-freakin-ever.”
Leonard looked up as Jim loped into his bedroom, his face heating as he stood there with his torso bare holding two shirts, while Jim was fully clothed in black leather pants and jacket over a too-tight white t-shirt.
“Shut it, Jim. I don’t make a habit of wearing civvies and I don’t want to look like an idiot tonight.” He jammed his arms into the ebony-colored button. “What the fuck are you wearing, anyway?”
“It’s no big deal, Bones. Just a dinner with Dr Boyce and his wife.”
“No big deal? Are you out of your mind? A dinner with the Chief of Xenoneurosurgery and the captain of the Yorktown? Just a casual invitation? Of course it fucking isn’t. Something is going down here and we don’t know what!” Leonard glared at Jim.
“Yeah, and if we want to know we need to get over there and find out. Hell Bones, we can handle it. Look how much we’ve done already!”
Leonard growled as he buckled his belt: “What we’ve done already is the fucking trouble.”
Jim stepped forward, crowding into his personal space, his eyes laser bright. “And if we play our cards right, this might be the start of the solution. What we have got is that we’re in this together. So can we just stop taking it out on each other?”
Sighing, Leonard wrapped an arm around Jim’s shoulders, feeling the tension in them, even through the old battered leather jacket. “Sorry.”
Jim elbowed him lightly and tapped their foreheads together. “It’s okay, man. We’ll turn this to our advantage. We’re two of the most powerful officers in the Imperial Fleet”.
In theory we are, thought Leonard as he pushed Jim away and turned to the mirror, running a comb through his hair again. It was just a shade too long and one stubborn lock insisted on falling into his eyes no matter what he tried. Suddenly, long fingered hands were reaching up and tousling his hair from behind.
“Lighten up, Bones. You look better with bedhead than that old-man hairdo, anyway. All the better to charm Captain One with.”
“Fuck you, asshole.” He reached for the comb again, but Jim pulled him toward the door. Leonard tried to ignore the little voice in his head that was screaming at him that this was such a bad idea. He looked around for their loaner hovercar - rank had its privileges, after all - but it was nowhere in sight. Instead there was a monstrosity of a shiny, two-wheeled motorcycle, all chrome and black leather. He gulped when Jim straddled the seat and dared him that lazy, easy smile of his that never signaled anything good. The sudden roar of the engine starting blocked out Leonard’s objections.
“Goddammit, Jim!” Leonard hissed even as he settled onto the seat, following James T. Kirk into whatever trouble might come, just as always.
He pulled on the helmet and instantly heard Jim’s throaty laughter in his ear. “Bonesie, if you can survive me, you can survive anything.”
Jim gunned the engines. propelling them through traffic with an easy confidence and an insanely high rate of speed that kept Leonard’s heart in his throat until they hit the highway and the traffic thinned. They sped up, but at least there was more than millimeters between his legs and the other vehicles surrounding them.
Once the sheer white terror had faded, he sucked in a deep breath and smacked his helmet against Jim’s. “Don’t.Ever.Do.That.Again,” he growled through the comm system, his hands wound tightly in Jim’s jacket as the landscape whizzed past.
“Ouch! Dammit, Bones! We’re fine!”
“Says you. I’ll only be perfectly fine when my ass is not clinging to a two-wheeled death trap driven by an insane adrenaline junkie”
Jim caught his tension. “Hey, Bones, why so worried?”
“I didn’t say-”
“Nope, you didn’t. You’d never actually say it out loud, would you? Damned passive, aggressive Southern manners!” Jim huffed, his voice tinged with amusement. “So what’s up, Bones?
“Jim,” he said, using his best do not fuck with your CMO voice, “you know the damned danger here”.
“It’s good to let your hair down and get to know the bigwigs outside of a comm link. No pressure, just a nice casual dinner and drinks. We’re not on the clock, and it’s New Year’s Eve - got to ring it in with style.”
“Jim, they’re Imperial officers. There is no such thing as a casual drink and you know it.”
“Hey, they want to get to know us, get us on-side. How is that a bad thing for us?”
“It’s not,” muttered Leonard, “if that is really what they want.”
Jim was silent for a long moment. “We need allies, Bones.”
And that was the crux of it. They did. Leonard just wished he was sure that an alliance was what was on offer here.
It was all too easily assumed that was needed to survive in Imperial service was ruthlessness, tactical genius and physical strength. All those were of course a given. But from there on you survived on your alliances. No one could watch in all directions all the time. If you weren’t being stabbed between the shoulder-blades, you were being reamed up the ass. Either way, you were screwed without someone to watch your back.
Even through the haze of alcohol and motion sickness, Leonard had known that on the recruitment shuttle and had seen the potential in his cocky neighbor. The attitude, the confidence, the daring. Either the kid was way out of his depth and would be dead within the week, or he as a master operator. Jim too had recognized a kindred spirit. They’d hacked each other’s personnel files within 12 hours of landing at the Academy and laughed together when both received warnings from the hack-alerts they surreptitiously set on their own files.
They’d had so much in common, coming from old Imperial families where their names carried weight but disadvantaged by dead fathers With no one to pull strings for them. they’d learnt to stand on their own two feet. They’d formed a deadly effective alliance and blazed their way through the Academy, left alone by other cadets after some brutal bar fights in the first few weeks, followed by Leonard getting to treat the victims in the Academy clinic afterwards and Jim to work them over when he was rapidly promoted to TA in the personal combat classes.
Outsiders despite their blue-chip establishment names, they had a capacity to think of innovative solutions that both impressed and intimidated their peers and instructors. They were almost entirely free of the normal harassment and intimidation visited on cadets by instructors and commanders.
Generally Jim blazed forward with the plan that seemed so unlikely that the careful tactical thinking that underlay it was almost entirely concealed. Leonard watched out for the unexpected dangers, the flaws Jim’s ego kept him from seeing, and patched up Jim as and when needed. Leonard was the only one Jim would take criticism from. Jim was the only one Leonard would share his fears with. Together they were tougher than tritanium.
When the Narada disaster went down they proved it. Even as others were standing in collective shock in the aftermath, they - well, Jim - had seen the gap. Pike conveniently out of commission, the other captains still caught in the Laurentian system, Starfleet Intel in the doghouse for not having foreseen the attack, the human populace baying for revenge. By the time everyone had emerged from their collective funk, James T. Kirk had got himself installed as captain of the flagship, with Leonard as his CMO. From cadets to two of the most powerful officers in the Imperial fleet in the space of a few weeks. The Empire had never seen anything like it.
And if it could have ended there, it would have been an extraordinary success story. But life went on. Now they had earned the enmity of every single officer who had been higher in the pecking order when they had reached out for the plum positions on the Enterprise. Which meant every single officer in the entire Imperial fleet. What was more, they had put ideas in the heads of every single ambitious ensign and cadet, ideas of just how far they might leapfrog up the ladder of power. Virtually none actually had the ability for it but it wouldn’t stop a number dying in the attempt.
Jim knew the danger, he was subtly trying to form alliances among his crew. But vengeful admirals, sidelined in his captaincy, had made sure he got the ruthless Spock as first officer. Nothing like a subordinate who had tried to strangle you on the bridge. And of course he came accompanied by comms officer Uhura who had hated Jim since they first met in the bar in Riverside. Jim thought he could win them over. Leonard had his doubts but either way it would take time, time they did not have. Sulu and Chekov were on their side since the Narada battle. Scotty seemed grateful enough to be off his ice planet but was too much of a loose cannon to be fully trusted. Dr M’Benga and Nurse Chapel were both clearly plants from the same ‘well-wishers’ who had landed them with Spock.
No one else had reached out to them. Despite their ability and their success they stood alone in chilly isolation. Leonard knew Jim was hoping that this was a friendly overture from Boyce and One. But both had reputations for utter ruthlessness and Leonard had his doubts.
“Stop worrying, Bones. I swear I can hear your mind churning.”
“Dammit Jim, we could easily be driving to our deaths.”
Jim shook his head, dirt kicking up behind Leonard as he slid wide on the turn off. “No one escapes death forever. But tonight’s not the night. I’ll get us out of this alive, you know I will.”
Leonard clutched tight to Jim’s jacket, gritting out, “One day, you cocky kid, your luck with run out. And I’d like to get out of this alive and in one piece, if you’d be so kind.”
Jim slowed and pulled off the road, stopping the bike in front of an old fashioned bungalow. Leonard lifted his head and looked around, taking in the view. The ocean crashed below them, the clouds were low and ominous, the weather unseasonably warm, heralding storms. The house was nicely remote, just the place to get rid of unwanted guests, no neighbors to hear the screams. The hairs on the back of Leonard’s neck were standing up. Even Jim’s natural confidence seemed subdued.
The door slid open and there was Captain Philip Boyce, Chief of Xenoneurosurgery, holding a drink and looking casual and quite comfortable.
“Jim! Leo! I was beginning to think you weren’t coming!”
He stepped back, allowing them to walk in. “Just drop your things in the lockbox. The kitchen’s this way. C’mon. You’re a few drinks behind.”
Leonard felt oddly naked as his agonizer, phaser and small set of deadly hypos went into the box. No Imperial officer ever travelled unarmed but equally no officer let an armed guest into their home. He watched as Jim put in the same, minus the hypos but adding a blackjack and a throwing knife. Of course he knew Jim still had a shiv in one boot and a fine metal garrotte threaded into the collar of his jacket. And Leonard had several poison-tipped needles in the cuffs of his ebony button-up. Still he felt badly undressed as he let Boyce press a glass of a very decent bourbon into his hand and then followed him towards the living room.
The murmur of music and of voices singing made him shoot a sharp look at Jim. Clearly there was more than just Boyce and One here. That was unexpected. Already they were at a disadvantage. They entered the room to the surprising sight of Admiral Christopher Pike lounging on a chair, barefoot, hair tousled, strumming a guitar. Seated around him were three women. Two lovely brunettes were singing along while a petite blonde looked on with an indulgent smile. It was a scene glorious in its domesticity. Leonard felt a rush of nausea. They might as well be staring into a pit of vipers.
Pike looked up and greeted them with a sunny smile. “Well, well, well. The entertainment has arrived!” Leonard moved subtly closer to Jim, angling slightly so their backs were towards each other. It was a futile move, though. They were hopelessly outclassed.
“And aren’t they such pretty boys,” commented Captain One. She was a tall powerful woman, cleared a trained fighter.
“So sweet together, one dark, one light.” That came from Commander Caitlin Barry, Chief Engineer on the ISS Yorktown and One’s second officer. She ran a hand through long wavy dark hair. Her nails glimmered in the light. Leonard had no doubt there were fine blades set under the ostentatious false nails.
Leonard kept a sickly smile plastered on his face as he rapidly calculated odds. He was outranked by everyone in the room. Jim outranked Barry and technically took precedence over One, as captain of the flagship. But the Yorktown was the second ship of the service and One was one of the most experienced officers in the fleet, with over twenty years of experience where Jim had the time it had taken to bring the Enterprise back to Earth. Captain Boyce had even more years behind him and all the connections of his senior position in Starfleet Medical. And Pike was of course an admiral even if a newly minted one. All four of these people had served together on the Yorktown and were known to be a tightly knit cabal, committed to looking out for each other’s interests.
The one who really made his stomach turn was the small blonde woman perched on the sofa behind Chris. Even in her high heels the top of her head would barely reach Leonard’s chin. Her golden hair was cut short on her head, pixie style, and she was lounging in softly worn denims and a peasant-style blouse. Nothing could look more innocuous, nothing could be more dangerous. He’d spent all three years in the Academy very carefully staying away from this woman. He’d not realized that she was part of Pike’s cabal, or more likely sponsor to it. That was a dangerous piece of information to have missed.
The Surgeon General, Branch Admiral Doctor Victoria Turnbull, smiled coolly at him, her deep green eyes startling against her pale skin. She was one of the five most powerful flag officers in Starfleet. That gave this little lynch party - or whatever it actually turned out to be - a level of official protection that would let them get away with almost anything.
She slide down from her perch and walked slowly round the two of them. The silence lay heavy across the room, everyone else clearly waiting on her verdict. Leonard felt like a slave on an auction block, being sized up by a potential buyer. He had no doubt that feeling was quite deliberate.
“Strip,” she ordered.
Both men hesitated and then Jim abruptly pulled off his tight T-shirt. That was Jim all over, Leonard thought. When there was no choice you got on with it, walking into danger with your eyes open, hoping that as circumstances changed, new choices would emerge. Taking a deep breath, he began to unbutton his shirt. They’d been spared this kind of indignity through their Academy years, having established themselves as so powerful so quickly. Leonard had no doubt that if they lived, Jim would wreak unholy revenge. But that didn’t help right now as he stood, bare-chested, bare-footed and faced up to having to lower his pants in front of this coolly assessing audience. With their clothes went the last of their weapons, as their hosts well knew.
He could feel his balls pulling up with fear and felt oddly unbalanced by a worry about appearing unimpressive in the genitalia department. He shook himself mentally. That was the least of his problems. Finally they both stood buck naked, careful to keep their hands at their side, to keep them hanging loose - to do nothing that would show fear. Jim had moved slightly forward, as if trying to draw attention to himself, to shield Leonard. Leonard’s heart twisted. They never spoke of how they felt, they let others think that each used the other. Only in privacy and darkness and silence did they communicate - without voices - with hands and lips and never acknowledged gentleness. But if Jim came out of this dead or injured, Leonard would be wreaking some vengeance of his own.
Admiral Turnbull walked slowly round each of them, prodding a muscle here, stroking a hand across milky pale skin there. She stopped in front of Leonard, running her eyes slowly, blatantly, down his chest and stomach, over his crotch and his thighs. “You’ve been hiding under uniforms and lab coats for too long, doctor,” she smirked, a careless finger trailing across one nipple. “Time to come out and play.”
She turned back to Barry and One. The engineer was draped over her captain’s back, mouthing at an ear as she whispered softly into it. Both were watching the naked men avidly. One’s husband looked on in amusement. “So girls, which one do we want?”
“Kirk, of course,” said One. “Such a reputation, our young blond hero who saved the entire planet. The quintessential ladies man. Let’s see if he lives up to it!”
Jim made a slight bow. “Whatever I can do for you, ladies, with pleasure.” A sideways glance downwards tells Leonard that Jim is already rising to the occasion. Cocky little shit, getting off on it, despite the deadly danger or more likely because of it.
“The pleasure will be all ours, Captain, I do assure you.” Turnbull gave him a sweet smile and turned to Boyce. “Phil. The collars?”
Leonard swallowed hard. Boyce brought two collars out of box, handing one to Turnbull and giving the other to Pike. “Care to do the honors, Chris?” he said. Pike walked up to Leonard, steely grey eyes looking straight into his, the handsome face graced with a small smirk as the heavy ring was set around his neck.
The collars were tooled to look old-fashioned, wide leather with metal buckles and a prominent ring that would take a leash. It sat heavily on his collar bone, squeezing lightly against the tendons of his neck. Not enough to limit his breathing, but enough to make sure he could never forget it was there. The cool brush of the interior, like iced silk, told Leonard that it was in fact made of synthezine. Fucking constrictor collars. Forget leashes. Somewhere there was a remote control and at the first sign of trouble the collar could be activated to squeeze in, as slowly or quickly as the owner desired. There was no easy way out of this.
“You’re an eager little slut, aren’t you,” said Turnbull, looking at Jim’s bobbing cock in amusement. “Phil, I feel like playing dress-up. What else do you have in that chest of yours?”
“A treasure trove of riches,” teased Boyce. “What do you have in mind?”
“A full body harness of some kind. What about that top buckle harness? You know, the one with the latigo straps that buckle in the front.”
Leonard watched dry-mouthed as she put on the harness, with the black straps making a St Andrews cross on Jim’s broad chest, accentuating the pecs and shoulders.
“Oh very pretty,” called out One. “Add these, Victoria.” She threw across a pair of black leather wristbands with studs running down them. “This is such fun. Just like getting my dollies all gussied up when I was an itty-bitty girl, only so much more…. stimulating.”
Leonard bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, trying to pull the blood back out of his own groin. He had no desire to let these vipers know that he was finding watching Jim being dressed up on black bondage gear rather stimulating himself.
“And how about this?” Barry had been rummaging around in the box and now came over twirling a jock strap. The women cooed over it excitedly. “Phil, darling,” called One, “we’re going to need your depilator.”
Leonard watched with quiet horror as One ran the hair-remover around Jim’s cock and balls and along his crack. He was even less keen when she came at him with the thing. Pike stood behind him, a heavy hand on his shoulder holding him in place, a booted foot kicking his legs open to get One get round to his ass. The horrifying thought that he would be dressed up next kept his cock nicely flaccid. Jim might enjoy standing in the limelight but he did not.
The women had Jim step into a black latex jock strap that sat snugly across his newly hairless abdomen, sat in a tight ring around the back of his balls and put two leather straps across the outside of his butt cheeks. Hairless and now even more distended thanks to the cock ring, Jim’s prick looked huge. Leonard was secretly somewhat impressed that he’d ever taken that monstrosity up his own ass.
A sharp click drew his attention back to Jim’s face. Turnbull had clipped a leash to the collar. “We’ll take him to the playroom, Phil. Some girls’ time out. Have fun. Come along, ladies. Oh and Cait, grab a flogger from the toy box while you’re over there.” As she turned away, tugging Jim behind her, Jim quickly, lightly brushed his fingertips over Leonard’s. Leonard knew what the message meant: do what it takes to stay alive. Revenge will come later. He let his worry about Jim drain away, looked across at his two masters for the evening. Admiral Pike and Captain Boyce. He was so fucked.