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Jun. 2nd, 2009 01:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kat8chaTitle: Kirk Cheats
Author: Me
Rating: R
Pairing: Kirk/Chekov/McCoy
Summary: All's fair in love and war. Or in sex. Except when Kirk cheats. Which, canonly, he does a hell of a lot.
A/N: Let me be honest. This fanart gets all the credit. Idea is hers, prompt is hers, I just wrote porn to go with the art and it's, you know, me porn. Also, ST's not mine. Duh.
The bet had been stupid, but it had also been typical James T. Kirk. After all the time he'd known the man McCoy should have been used to Jim's trademarked brand of stupid. It had started because Chekov had been licking his lips, the kid had chapped lips, something about the recycled air on the Enterprise. McCoy'd advised a balm and sent the kid off on his way, but the problem hadn't resolved itself yet. So the kid had been licking his lips, and Jim had spent a good portion of his shift on the bridge staring at the kid's red puckered mouth.
"He's just a kid." McCoy censured Kirk later, the two of them striding down the Enterprise's sleek hallways. McCoy was careful to keep his voice down, and look out for anyone coming their way. The last thing he needed to do was let it be known that James T. Kirk was having thoughts about their underage bridge officer. "Don't even think about it Jim."
"He turned 18 last week." Kirk said with an unrepentant smirk. He was in a good mood, the type of mood that made his eye glow electric blue, and made it nearly impossible to take him down. McCoy's fingers itched for a hypospray. A sedative would only delay this conversation...
But maybe a case of Caitian fever, nothing like shedding to put a man off sex.
"C'mon, it could be fun." Jim jostled McCoy's shoulder. "He's definitely uncharted territory. And isn't it our mission to-"
McCoy stopped in the middle of the hallway, but Kirk kept going, "Boldy go where- hey, why'd you stop?"
McCoy shook his head. "I'm not discussing this with you, Jim, goddammit I'm not." Turning sharply on his heel McCoy strode away, very obviously angry. That should have been the end of it. Jim had never bothered to push past the point where McCoy stalked off. The matter should have been dropped.
"Sorry sir!" Chekov dropped to his knees to gather up the PADDs he had dropped all over the bridge floor. "I must have tripped."
Obvious to anyone who was looking, which was McCoy, and Spock, but thankfully not Sulu, Kirk looked down at Chekov's ass while the boy scrambled to pick up his reports. "Don't worry Ensign, we all trip now and then." McCoy fought the urge to smack himself, or smack Jim, or maybe smack that ass. Trip, right, like the captain hadn't-
"Captain." Spock spoke up. "I believe your foot was in mister Chekov's way."
Kirk cleared his throat and glanced over at Spock who was standing by his science station, looking unruffled as always. McCoy managed to glance away from Chekov, who was finally getting off his hands and knees, to look over at Spock as well. "Well, it's not like I did it on purpose. Sorry about that Chekov."
"It's fine captain." Chekov ducked his head, all thick Russian accent and boyish charm. McCoy found his eyes drawn to Chekov's lips, which weren't chapped anymore, but which definitely held an allure.
Stepping off the bridge with Jim again McCoy found himself jostled again. "Bet I can get there first."
And so began the race for Chekov's affections. It was a stupid, stupid bet, and McCoy was well aware that everyone on the ship was watching. McCoy didn't like it, hell, he goddamn hated it. He wasn't a demonstrative man, he'd never been demonstrative, and he certainly wasn't any sort of rotten exhibitionist like Jim. Jim got off on strutting around, flirting with the young ensign, watching the way the kid fell over himself (occasionally literally if something was in his way) to make him happy. Chekov was just scared of McCoy, of the way the doctor treated everyone (but Jim) with the same gruff attitude, Chekov didn't need McCoy's approval, though he sought out Jim and that Vulcan's. It was frustrating to compete in an obviously fixed race.
Then again, no one had ever said that Jim wasn't a dirty cheater.
It was the nightshift, and McCoy was getting ready to sign off and tuck himself in with the last of his Earth brewed booze when his communicator chirped. "Hey, Bones." Jim sounds particularly breathy, which wasn't odd for him. Jim's a 'mouthbreather' as Uhura'd put it more than once. If he didn't sound like he was panting than he was probably bored, and about to start doing something that would get him panting. "Need you up on the bridge."
"Nurse Chapel," McCoy called the pretty nurse over. "I'm going to go see what the captain wants, and then I'm out for the night." The nurse smiled at him, and waved him off, and McCoy headed up to the bridge fully aware that whatever Jim wanted it was probably going to take him all night and give him a headache.
"I'm here Jim what's the-" McCoy starts talking before he gets off the turbolift, and cuts himself off when he sees what's splayed out on the lower level bridge floor. Jim's lying on his back, his knees bent and his feet pressed up against the step down. Jim's long toes are curled slightly over the edge. Chekov's sitting astride him, and McCoy can see that the captain is balls deep in his young navigator. "God damn it Jim, did you call me up just to gloat?!" Bones snaps, and he tears his eyes away from the thrust and grind of Jim's hips to glance up into his friend's (supposed friend) face. Jim's got a light blush high on his cheeks and his eyes are glowing again, and his mouth is curved in a wicked smile.
"C'mon Bones, would I do that?" Jim's hand slides up Chekov's thigh, curving along his ass. The young ensign makes a distorted whine, and McCoy notes that Jim has two fingers thrusting in and out of Chekov's pouty mouth. If McCoy thought Jim's blush was bad, he didn't, it's nothing compared to the red splotches on Chekov's pale cheeks. No time to sun in Russia, kid's pale as an albino. McCoy's brought back by Jim's next question. "Do you think we can both get in side?" Jim's grasping Chekov's ass now, and rubbing two fingers over Chekov's puckered asshole, stretched tight around Jim's cock already.
"Dammit Jim," McCoy's anger has leaked out, replaced by fondness, irascibility, and lust. "I'm a doctor, not a proctologist!"
Kirk pauses. "…wait, isn't that a type of doctor?"
McCoy shakes his head and walks over to the pair of them, noting that Chekov's pale pink skin is flushed around his shoulders, and his knees are going to get rug burn. Hell, Kirk's back is going to be one big rug burn by the time the man's through. Jim never let a little thing like that get him down though. "Let the boy speak, Jim."
"You're no fun Bones, can't you just take me word for it?" Jim slides his fingers out of Chekov's mouth, but then wraps them around Chekov's cock, toying with it.
McCoy tries not to let his dick think for him. Chekov tips his head back and glances upside down at McCoy, through eyelashes and sweat dampened curls. "Are you up for this, kid?"
"Do not worry." Chekov pants, a glorious sunny smile beginning to span his face. "I can do this, I can do this!" Jim twists his hand around Chekov's erection and the kid's eyelashes flutter closed, his jaw dropping when he groaned. "D-doctor, I want to do this."
"See?" Kirk rubbed his thumb over Chekov's cockhead. "You heard the man, Bones. What are you waiting for?"
Bones shucked his blue uniform top before pulling the black one off from underneath. "Impatience is for the young. Could you have picked a more difficult spot to do this Jim?"
Kirk grinned. "Complaining is for the old. Yes, and I'll let you lean on the chair Bones."
Author: Me
Rating: R
Pairing: Kirk/Chekov/McCoy
Summary: All's fair in love and war. Or in sex. Except when Kirk cheats. Which, canonly, he does a hell of a lot.
A/N: Let me be honest. This fanart gets all the credit. Idea is hers, prompt is hers, I just wrote porn to go with the art and it's, you know, me porn. Also, ST's not mine. Duh.
The bet had been stupid, but it had also been typical James T. Kirk. After all the time he'd known the man McCoy should have been used to Jim's trademarked brand of stupid. It had started because Chekov had been licking his lips, the kid had chapped lips, something about the recycled air on the Enterprise. McCoy'd advised a balm and sent the kid off on his way, but the problem hadn't resolved itself yet. So the kid had been licking his lips, and Jim had spent a good portion of his shift on the bridge staring at the kid's red puckered mouth.
"He's just a kid." McCoy censured Kirk later, the two of them striding down the Enterprise's sleek hallways. McCoy was careful to keep his voice down, and look out for anyone coming their way. The last thing he needed to do was let it be known that James T. Kirk was having thoughts about their underage bridge officer. "Don't even think about it Jim."
"He turned 18 last week." Kirk said with an unrepentant smirk. He was in a good mood, the type of mood that made his eye glow electric blue, and made it nearly impossible to take him down. McCoy's fingers itched for a hypospray. A sedative would only delay this conversation...
But maybe a case of Caitian fever, nothing like shedding to put a man off sex.
"C'mon, it could be fun." Jim jostled McCoy's shoulder. "He's definitely uncharted territory. And isn't it our mission to-"
McCoy stopped in the middle of the hallway, but Kirk kept going, "Boldy go where- hey, why'd you stop?"
McCoy shook his head. "I'm not discussing this with you, Jim, goddammit I'm not." Turning sharply on his heel McCoy strode away, very obviously angry. That should have been the end of it. Jim had never bothered to push past the point where McCoy stalked off. The matter should have been dropped.
"Sorry sir!" Chekov dropped to his knees to gather up the PADDs he had dropped all over the bridge floor. "I must have tripped."
Obvious to anyone who was looking, which was McCoy, and Spock, but thankfully not Sulu, Kirk looked down at Chekov's ass while the boy scrambled to pick up his reports. "Don't worry Ensign, we all trip now and then." McCoy fought the urge to smack himself, or smack Jim, or maybe smack that ass. Trip, right, like the captain hadn't-
"Captain." Spock spoke up. "I believe your foot was in mister Chekov's way."
Kirk cleared his throat and glanced over at Spock who was standing by his science station, looking unruffled as always. McCoy managed to glance away from Chekov, who was finally getting off his hands and knees, to look over at Spock as well. "Well, it's not like I did it on purpose. Sorry about that Chekov."
"It's fine captain." Chekov ducked his head, all thick Russian accent and boyish charm. McCoy found his eyes drawn to Chekov's lips, which weren't chapped anymore, but which definitely held an allure.
Stepping off the bridge with Jim again McCoy found himself jostled again. "Bet I can get there first."
And so began the race for Chekov's affections. It was a stupid, stupid bet, and McCoy was well aware that everyone on the ship was watching. McCoy didn't like it, hell, he goddamn hated it. He wasn't a demonstrative man, he'd never been demonstrative, and he certainly wasn't any sort of rotten exhibitionist like Jim. Jim got off on strutting around, flirting with the young ensign, watching the way the kid fell over himself (occasionally literally if something was in his way) to make him happy. Chekov was just scared of McCoy, of the way the doctor treated everyone (but Jim) with the same gruff attitude, Chekov didn't need McCoy's approval, though he sought out Jim and that Vulcan's. It was frustrating to compete in an obviously fixed race.
Then again, no one had ever said that Jim wasn't a dirty cheater.
It was the nightshift, and McCoy was getting ready to sign off and tuck himself in with the last of his Earth brewed booze when his communicator chirped. "Hey, Bones." Jim sounds particularly breathy, which wasn't odd for him. Jim's a 'mouthbreather' as Uhura'd put it more than once. If he didn't sound like he was panting than he was probably bored, and about to start doing something that would get him panting. "Need you up on the bridge."
"Nurse Chapel," McCoy called the pretty nurse over. "I'm going to go see what the captain wants, and then I'm out for the night." The nurse smiled at him, and waved him off, and McCoy headed up to the bridge fully aware that whatever Jim wanted it was probably going to take him all night and give him a headache.
"I'm here Jim what's the-" McCoy starts talking before he gets off the turbolift, and cuts himself off when he sees what's splayed out on the lower level bridge floor. Jim's lying on his back, his knees bent and his feet pressed up against the step down. Jim's long toes are curled slightly over the edge. Chekov's sitting astride him, and McCoy can see that the captain is balls deep in his young navigator. "God damn it Jim, did you call me up just to gloat?!" Bones snaps, and he tears his eyes away from the thrust and grind of Jim's hips to glance up into his friend's (supposed friend) face. Jim's got a light blush high on his cheeks and his eyes are glowing again, and his mouth is curved in a wicked smile.
"C'mon Bones, would I do that?" Jim's hand slides up Chekov's thigh, curving along his ass. The young ensign makes a distorted whine, and McCoy notes that Jim has two fingers thrusting in and out of Chekov's pouty mouth. If McCoy thought Jim's blush was bad, he didn't, it's nothing compared to the red splotches on Chekov's pale cheeks. No time to sun in Russia, kid's pale as an albino. McCoy's brought back by Jim's next question. "Do you think we can both get in side?" Jim's grasping Chekov's ass now, and rubbing two fingers over Chekov's puckered asshole, stretched tight around Jim's cock already.
"Dammit Jim," McCoy's anger has leaked out, replaced by fondness, irascibility, and lust. "I'm a doctor, not a proctologist!"
Kirk pauses. "…wait, isn't that a type of doctor?"
McCoy shakes his head and walks over to the pair of them, noting that Chekov's pale pink skin is flushed around his shoulders, and his knees are going to get rug burn. Hell, Kirk's back is going to be one big rug burn by the time the man's through. Jim never let a little thing like that get him down though. "Let the boy speak, Jim."
"You're no fun Bones, can't you just take me word for it?" Jim slides his fingers out of Chekov's mouth, but then wraps them around Chekov's cock, toying with it.
McCoy tries not to let his dick think for him. Chekov tips his head back and glances upside down at McCoy, through eyelashes and sweat dampened curls. "Are you up for this, kid?"
"Do not worry." Chekov pants, a glorious sunny smile beginning to span his face. "I can do this, I can do this!" Jim twists his hand around Chekov's erection and the kid's eyelashes flutter closed, his jaw dropping when he groaned. "D-doctor, I want to do this."
"See?" Kirk rubbed his thumb over Chekov's cockhead. "You heard the man, Bones. What are you waiting for?"
Bones shucked his blue uniform top before pulling the black one off from underneath. "Impatience is for the young. Could you have picked a more difficult spot to do this Jim?"
Kirk grinned. "Complaining is for the old. Yes, and I'll let you lean on the chair Bones."
