Trek Fic: We'll have words later
Title: We'll have words later
Fandom & Pairing: Star Trek Reboot (aka AOS, ST XI, etc.), Pike/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: paddling, object insertion
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort
Word Count: Around 2780
Summary: Pike takes McCoy to task over his behaviour on the Enterprise while McCoy struggles to comes to terms with his survivor's guilt.
Beta: betaed with grace and speed by imachar All remaining errors are my own.
Notes: The use of the paddle handle was inspired by a scene from the talented syredronning's fic Four Square, part of her Draws series.
This is the first fic I've ever posted!
As the last of lecturing doctors and fussing nurses departed from Pike's apartment, to which he had finally been released after weeks in hospital, the newly-minted Admiral gestured at Leonard to stay behind.
“Cadet McCoy, I have some things to say to you.”
Leonard stared at him with surprise. Since the Narada incident, Pike had never been anything other than unfailing polite to him. He was no longer Pike’s attending physician but he had made sure that he was kept informed. It was generally accepted that the only reason that there was any possibility that Pike might walk again was due to the brilliance of McCoy’s surgery, done in deep space with limited resources in the midst of a battle for the very future of earth.
Leonard bit down the angry response that rose automatically to his lips. He was aware of his own exhaustion. The adrenaline of the battle and the rush of their subsequent survival had faded, being replaced by the realization of the grim new future that lay ahead. Like many other survivors, he was battling a growing depression, an ever more overwhelming sensation of futility. So much had been lost that could never be replaced.
And if it was bad for him, how many times worse must it be for Pike? Pike had been co-operative and motivated through-out his hospital treatment, showing little sign of anger or despair. But that fact remained that while Leonard’s career was just starting - indeed if rumours were to be believed was likely to be rapidly accelerated due to the loss of personnel - Pike’s career as a Captain was over, his dream of leading the Enterprise brutally terminated within less than 24 hours of beginning.
While the possibility existed that he might walk again, it was far from certain and it would not be happening any time soon. Something about the strained grimace on Pike’s face, the deepening lines on his forehead and the dark circles below his eyes told Leonard that he had had quite enough of being comforted and cosseted and treated like the tragic hero.
He didn’t know what this was about but he had always had a bit of a soft spot for Pike, mostly due to the man’s patient, pragmatic handling of Jim through their Academy years. Leonard could follow his lead in this for a little longer. He stood to attention.
“Sir?”
“Cadet, I seem to remember telling you, when I discovered that you had smuggled Cadet Kirk aboard - against all Starfleet regulations - that we would be having words later.”
“Dammit man,” Leonard protested, all his good intentions forgotten. “You’re going to drag me over the coals for that, now, after all that has happened? Rumour has it that Jim’s going to be made an XO, if not a Captain, despite all the shit he pulled on the ship. And you want to ream me out? What the hell are you going to do? Put me over your knee and spank me?”
“Is that what you think you deserve, Cadet?” Pike’s face was cold, giving nothing away.
Leonard hesitated, his mind racing as he tried to work out what the hell was going on here. He was damn sure that he hadn’t been the only cadet who had occasionally fantasized about a little intimate chastisement by the handsome Commandant of Cadets. But this hardly seemed the time. He knew Pike currently had no sexual function and presumably Pike knew it too. Was this a dressing-down or some kind of weird scene? Leonard didn’t mind the occasional bit of role-play, although generally he liked to have the boundaries worked out beforehand. But it wasn’t as if Pike had the strength any more to literally dominate him. He could always say no and make it stick, should they reach any such point.
And something was twisting deep inside him, too. Something dark and bitter, guilty at having survived, angry at feeling guilty, frightened by a new order that was going to be much more dangerous than the old one had ever been. He was sick of playing it safe, of being a heroic role model to reassure a terrified world. If Pike wanted to play, Leonard could play, could follow him down into the warped corners of his traumatized mind.
“I deserve what you say I deserve, sir!”
“Stay there, at attention.” Pike manoeuvred his chair out of the living room into what was presumably a bedroom. Leonard did his best to stand smartly, standing to attention never having been one of his talents.
Pike returned, some things wrapped in fabric in his lap. He stopped his chair by the edge of the sofa, and dropped down the arms.
“Trousers round your thighs, shirt up to your chest, lie down across my lap. Now, Cadet!”
Leonard hastened to obey, letting the adrenaline of the exposure overwhelm his mortification. He lay with his arse upper-most, embarrassingly exposed, his knees dangling awkwardly off the floor, his chest and face buried in the cushions of the sofa. Pike sat silently, unmoving. Leonard could feel his pulse-rate increasing erratically as the minutes of uncertainty dragged on… some movement, Pike unwrapping something from the cloth, then nothing once again.
Leonard was on the verge of calling quits on the whole thing when a paddle slapped down hard on one exposed buttock. He jumped and swore, trembling from the shock of it more than the pain.
“Stay still, Cadet, and stay silent, or you will be getting more of this than you bargained for.”
Leonard did his best but Pike was deliberately making it difficult, with no rhythm or reason to the blows - long pauses, fast repetitions, always in different places. And then finally Pike got into it and he was hitting hard now, powerful angry slaps. There was clearly nothing wrong with his arms. Now the pain came, hot and furious, building relentlessly. Leonard had no idea why anyone would consider this a turn-on. It fucking hurt.
But hurting felt right. Billions of Vulcans were dead, consumed in the apocalyptic collapse of their entire world. The survivors were a shattered, traumatized remnant, their minds destabilised by the loss of their mental bonds. Who was Leonard to whine about a little physical pain?
And all those ships from the Battle of Vulcan… They were calling it a battle but it had been a slaughter. Peers, classmates, instructors, commanding officers… hundreds of people who Leonard had known or known of, who he had treated or studied with or joined for a meal or a drink. People he had laughed with, fought with, liked or respected or despised or ignored - all gone.
And fellow crew from the Enterprise... Even in that one place where so many had survived, not all had made it. The one place where Leonard could do something, still he had failed, still people had died under his hands on operating tables, in biobeds, in corridors.
Who the hell was he to live, uninjured, able to walk and talk and fuck, to think about his next assignment, to worry about his future career? What right did he have to exist when so many others had had their lives torn away, without warning, without hope of redress?
Who was he to cry out at the pain when he was splayed across the lap of man who might never walk again, a man who lived for his command, a man who had once strode across galaxies and now wheeled himself around a living room?
Leonard bit hard into the cushion of the sofa to stop himself crying out, to try and damn up the despairing sobs that were clogging up his throat. The pain was spreading white-hot from his buttocks, down his legs, up his torso, piercing his heart. The pain was rushing through his body like a wild-fire, burning down all the defences he had tried to build up, all the careful self-justifications that let him keep on going. It consumed him until he finally felt himself floating on top of it, rising up in the face of the one unspeakable, undeniable truth.
He was delighted to be alive. Better men than him had died, better doctors, better officers, better human beings. But still, he loved his life, he didn’t want to lose it, he didn’t want to give it up. He wanted to guard it jealously, to live it, to use it, to celebrate it. Finally through the pain he felt desire rising, the unstoppable urge that drives humans to keep on procreating even as their world falls apart around them - the primitive, fundamental, inexorable urge to live and to love.
His cock was hard against Pike’s trousers, the tip leaking fluid into the fabric, his balls rubbing agonizingly against the rough weave. His sobs had mutated into panting, he was wriggling now not to get away from the paddle but to rub harder against Pike’s thin thighs. The paddling stopped. He lay, agonizingly tense, listening to Pike’s heavy breathing.
“Is that what you deserved, Cadet?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You accused me of wanting to ream you out. Is that what you deserve, Cadet?” There was a rough anger to Pike’s voice that set alarm bells ringing in Leonard’s mind. This might be doing it for him, but he wasn’t at all sure it was the right thing for Pike. But damn that. This was Pike’s dirty fantasy. Leonard wasn’t going to be chucked out into the street hard and wanting just because Pike was drowning in his own misery.
“I deserve what you say I deserve, sir.”
A long silence followed, then rustling behind him, something else being opened in the Admiral’s lap.
“Then spread your legs, Cadet, like a good little slut, and I’ll give you what you deserve.”
Leonard suppressed his own reservations and let himself sink into his sexual high. He spread his thighs, thrusting his reddened and throbbing arse even higher. His buttocks were deliberately pulled obscenely wide. A cool stream of air was blown directly onto the aching skin around his arsehole. He shivered at the thought of the Admiral clinically looking down onto his anus.
Then something slick and blunt was pushed against his hole. There was no teasing, no stretching in preparation. Just a thick rounded object pushed firmly and unrelentingly against the tight ring of muscle. It broke through, Leonard’s muscles protesting against the intrusion, clamping helplessly against the foreign object. Pike pushed it in hard and deep and then pulled it steadily all the way out, before shoving it back in brutally. The bastard was fucking him with the handle of the paddle.
Leonard swallowed down his indignation, focused simply on the rough push and pull of the handle, on the shivers of dirty delight that were threaded through the discomfort.
“You like that, Cadet? Your greedy little hole likes to be fucked, to be filled, to be used.”
Leonard shifted restlessly. Pike surely had something a little more sophisticated than this in his play-box. By this point in the game Leonard wanted to get off, not get punished. Time to push a little.
“Come on Admiral. Don’t you have anything bigger at your disposal? I’m not feeling the burn.”
That earnt him a sharp slap across his reddened buttocks, but it also got the paddle taken out of play, replaced by something considerably bigger but thankfully both smooth and shaped - a large dildo, by the feel of it. And yes, now he felt the burn, and the stretch, but it felt so good.
Pike was fucking him steadily, fluidly, rotating the dildo slightly each time. He had switched it on to a low vibrate and it was sending tremors through Leonard’s already overloaded system with each thrust. Pike was still talking to him, “little slut, so hungry, so wanton, you like that don’t you, desperate to be fucked, you’ll give it up for anyone,” but Leonard was past hearing him, the words blurring into the roar of the blood in his ears.
And then the dildo caught his prostate, a clean sharp shock, and Leonard was screaming his pleasure, grinding his aching cock into Pike’s lap. Pike had increased the vibrations, was rubbing the dildo relentlessly over his prostate, and Leonard was screaming nonsense as he emptied his load over Pike’s thighs, jerking and shaking in a climax that seemed never-ending.
Pike jerked the dildo out of his arse, throwing it away across the room. He pushed Leonard roughly onto the floor, sitting with his arms folded, studiously ignoring the mess of come in his lap.
“Now get out.”
Leonard shook himself clear of his sexual haze and considered the order. It fitted with the scene, drew a clear line in the sand, allowed them both to walk away from this and presumably pretend it had never happened. But the brutal truth was that Pike couldn’t walk away and that this scene might have done little more than remind him that he couldn’t get it up either. Yes, in the moment it had been hot as hell, but if you looked at it a little more objectively, you had two intelligent men so emotionally compromised that they could only share their pain through a few square inches of Leonard’s arse. Everything else had remained clothed, and it didn’t escape Leonard’s notice that most of the contact from Pike had been via paddle and dildo, not with his own hand. Millions were dead that Leonard would never have been able to save; millions were damaged in ways that he could not heal. But right here, right now, he might be able to help. Something about the way Pike couldn’t quite look him in the eye finally made up Leonard’s mind.
“No.”
“Excuse me, Cadet?”
“That’s enough, Chris. That bit is over now.” Leonard pulled off his shirt, toed off his shoes and proceeded to straddle Pike, ignoring his aching arse and his own mess to settle down into the older man’s lap. He grasped the lean, lined face between his hands, ran his thumbs down the tell-tale tear tracks and muffled Pike’s objections with his mouth. He took his time, tracing those full lips with his own, sucking the lower lip into his mouth and worrying it with his teeth, exploring the velvety inside of the upper lip with his tongue.
“Get out. I don’t want this, I can’t do this, I’ve nothing to offer you,” Pike protested.
“Stop it, Chris,” Leonard said firmly. “Sex is not just about waving cocks around. It’s about hands and mouths and skin on skin. It’s about hearts and heads and sharing feelings. Dammit man, you are too intelligent not to know this. Your sexual function will come back in time and until it does there are plenty of ….” Leonard stopped as he saw the shock on Pike’s face.
“Chris, you do know that your sexual function will come back, don’t you? Someone must have walked you through this?”
Pike lent his face wearily against Leonard’s chest. “It is possible that I sort of chose not to listen during that particular lecture.”
Leonard stroked a hand through the thick grey hair, relishing the rough texture against his palm. “You’re an idiot. As far as your legs go, we just don’t know yet. But the impotence is largely caused by the cocktail of drugs that you’re on. As they wean you off the strongest ones, you’ll find both your desire and your ability returning.”
“I’m not short of desire,” Pike grumbled, nipping at the tender skin at the base of Leonard’s neck.
Leonard laughed, suddenly feeling more care-free than he had in weeks. “Very well, then. It is some time yet before I head back into space, god help me. You’ll recover well before then. And that first erection is all mine. Promise me that!”
Leonard lent in, whispering hotly into Pike’s ear: “I’m going to be so good to it. I’m going to stroke it and lick it and suck it down deep. I’m going to touch and tease and taste until you can’t stand it anymore and then I’m going to let you shoot right down my throat.” Pike was staring at him, more than a little glassy-eyed.
“And until that day comes, you and I are going to enjoy ourselves, in all the ways that we can. The toys are nice, Chris. They are fun and all. But I want you - your hands, your mouth, your skin on mine. Don’t over-think it, Chris. Just say yes.”
Chris stared at him for a long moment, as if fighting with himself somewhere deep inside. Finally he released a deep sigh.
“Yes.”