emmagrant01 | FIC: With Benefits (Kirk/MCCoy, NC-17)

This is the first fic I've written in 18 months, y'all. Be gentle!

Title: With Benefits
Author: Emma Grant
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Length: ~2000 words
Summary: Set pre-film. After a night on the town with no action, Kirk decides McCoy will do in a pinch.
Note: Written for the following prompt at

st_xi_kink: McCoy/Kirk; fucked without a kiss. Oh, and did you know the location of Starfleet Academy is on Google Maps? Cool, eh?

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“And then he said, ‘Watcha mean, not as big as it looks?’, and I was all – Hellooo, ladies, where ya headed?”

Jim Kirk had twisted completely around mid-sentence to leer at a pair of scantilty-clad local girls walking past, but Leonard McCoy kept a firm grip on his friend’s arm. The girls couldn’t have been legal – at least not to McCoy’s admittedly skeptical eye. They looked over their shoulders before giggling and continuing down Castro.

“Niiice ass!” Kirk called after them, and then hissed as McCoy wrenched him back around. “Mother fucker, ow! Where are we going, anyway?”

“Home. You’ve got an exam tomorrow, remember? You asked me to make sure you were in bed by midnight.”

“I didn’t mean alone.”

McCoy snorted. “You’ve still got me, baby.”

“Just what I was hoping for.“ Kirk rolled his eyes and nearly stumbled. McCoy caught him with the other arm, and Kirk grinned up at him. “Aw, I didn’t know you cared.”

McCoy squinted at the rolling display on the sign above their heads. “Let’s see, trams to Market… the wharf… “ A whirring sounded behind them, and a floating trolley appeared from around the corner, its display flashing STARFLEET ACADEMY, via GEARY. “Whatta ya know. Good timing.”

Beside him, Kirk was staring at his splayed fingers. “I’m not drunk enough to pass out yet, you know.”

“We can do something about that when we get home, you know.”

“I didn’t get laid tonight, either. You gonna do something about that?”

McCoy shot him a look. “I dunno, is that an offer?”

Kirk snickered. “You wish.”

The tram halted at the stop and McCoy gave Kirk a shove in the direction of its opening door. “If it’d get you to shut up,” he muttered under his breath.

Kirk was drunk enough to pass out, or at least to fall asleep, and did so after just two minutes on the tram, slumped against McCoy’s shoulder. McCoy didn’t dislodge him. The tram was full of chattering cadets returning from a night on the town, and there wasn’t much room to spread out anyway.

Theirs was the final stop on the Academy campus, and McCoy let the others get off first before sliding an arm around Kirk and pulling him to his feet. “Wake up, Jim.”

“Wha…?”

The walk back to the cadet quarters they shared wasn’t a long one, but it felt like several kilometers hauling a passed-out roommate. Once they reached the building’s entrance, McCoy let Kirk slump to the ground.

“That’s it. I’m not carrying you any further.”

Kirk opened one bleary eye and squinted up at him. “You’re no fun.”

“Well, shit. We can’t all be you, can we?” McCoy fumbled for his identification card and passed it across the door’s security pad.

“McCoy, Leonard. Dormitory A-Seven Access granted.”

McCoy gestured grandly. “After you.”

Kirk climbed to his feet, wincing. He was silent during the short lift ride to the 8th floor, uncharacteristically so. He was quiet the entire walk down the corridor to their quarters as well, and by the time they reached the door, McCoy couldn’t take it any longer. He turned to see Kirk staring at him, clearly plotting something.

“Dammit, Jim, what?”

“How long has it been since you got laid, Bones?”

McCoy passed his ID card over the lock. “Too fucking long, no thanks to you.”

“To me? What the hell does that mean?”

“For one thing, you’ve managed to bed half the cadets already, which makes me feel utterly inadequate. Second, we have no privacy, which makes it damn awkward to bring someone back here – not that you care, but I do. And third… Jesus, Jim, I’m not like you. You’re young and cute and I’m… not.” He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation in their open doorway.

Kirk grinned. “You think I’m cute?”

McCoy felt his face flush. He shook his head in annoyance. “Never mind. I’m going to bed.” He headed through the open door. The room was dark, but he knew it well enough by now that it didn’t matter. The door slid shut, and he was pulled backwards and pushed up against it.

“Jim, what the hell are you--“ Before he could finish the sentence, there was one strong hand pressed against his chest and another cupping his groin. He gasped into the darkness. “—doing?”

The hand on his groin was moving, stroking his dick through his pants. “Isn’t it obvious?”

McCoy was just buzzed enough to entertain the thought of sex with Kirk, but not drunk enough to think it was a good idea. He didn’t generally go for males, and fucking his best friend – well, that just sounded like a terrible idea no matter how he looked at it.

“I don’t think we should be doing this,” he said, but the moan that escaped his lips when those fingers stroked just so made his protest less than convincing.

“Doing what?” Kirk replied, fingers now fumbling at the fly of McCoy’s pants. He tugged them down over McCoy’s ass, just enough to get access to his underwear and—

“Oh, fuck, oh god.” McCoy felt wet heat engulf his half-hard dick, and head fell back against the door. He seriously couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a blow job. Maybe years ago. But he sure as hell never expected to get head from Jim Kirk.

And Jim was fucking good at it, too, something that shouldn’t have surprised McCoy but somehow did. Most of Jim’s conquests were female, or the equivalent of, anyway, and even if Jim did occasionally bed a male, McCoy had always had the impression Jim did the fucking.

There was a tongue sliding under his foreskin now, and his dick was as hard as it had been in years, and the ringing sound in his head drowned out everything else. He tried to keep still, but allowed himself a hand in Jim’s hair, just enough to hint at what he wanted. Jim moaned around his cock at that touch, and again when he pulled that head toward him, and that was all the permission he needed.

He tugged harder, feeling his dick press against the back of Jim’s mouth, even down his throat a little -- god -- and that tongue. Where Jim learned to do that with his fucking tongue was a mystery, but it was making little spots of light appear behind McCoy’s eyelids. That tongue was everywhere, sliding against the head, massaging the shaft, and there was a hand in there somewhere too, clenched around the base and jacking him in rhythm with his mouth. It was all McCoy could do not to fuck his mouth outright, just fucking do it, ram his cock down that hot throat and—

“Oh fuck ohfuckohfuck—“ He gritted his teeth as his came, vaguely aware that his hand was clenching Jim’s short hair far too tightly, but unable to do anything about it. Jim kept sucking, kept licking his dick with that amazing tongue like he couldn’t get enough of it, and finally McCoy had to push him away.

It had happened embarrassingly quickly, but he didn’t give a shit at the moment. He slumped to the floor, still dazed and panting, and looked up to see Jim grinning at him in the moonlight.

Jim spat semen into his hand, and somehow managed to remain sexy while doing so. “Good, right? My turn.”

McCoy couldn’t move, so he had no idea how he was going to manage to reciprocate. Unless Jim expected him to roll over – and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that, even after that mind-blowing head. “What do you want me to do?”

Jim’s dick was already out of his pants, and he was sitting back on his heels and stroking himself. “Just sit right there,” he said, his voice husky. His dick was slick and larger than McCoy would have expected, and he was working it hard and fast. “Been wanting to suck your dick for years, Bones, fucking years. God, it was good, too, even better than I expected.”

McCoy didn’t know what to say to that. He was flattered, of course, to have been the subject of fantasy, a maybe a little disturbed. His eyes flickered between Jim’s face and his groin, not sure which view was more erotic. Jim’s face was slackened, his eyes closed and lips parted, and it was… hot. McCoy doubted he would have thought watching another man masturbate could be so arousing before now.

Of course, it also made him feel a little guilty.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do that?” he asked, placing a hand over Jim’s, and stilling him for a moment. Jim’s eyes opened and met his. His expression didn’t change, but he moved his hand away.

McCoy wrapped his fingers around the shaft, and realized he’d actually never done this to anyone else before. He stroked Jim’s dick like he would stroke his own, slowly, with a twist of the fingers near the head, stretching the foreskin slightly.

“Hang on a sec,” Jim said and pulled away. He fumbled in the drawer by his bed for a moment and returned with a tube of lube. “Stand up.” McCoy’s eyes widened as he did, and Jim snickered. “Don’t worry, it’s not for that. Not tonight, anyway. Here.” He squirted a generous amount of lube into McCoy’s hand.

Chagrined, McCoy caught his dick again and pulled, slowly.

“Harder, faster,” Jim whispered, pressing his forehead against McCoy’s shoulder. “Oh, yeah…”

It was intensely erotic, with Jim pressing him back against the door, a hot, hard cock sliding in his fist, and the sounds Jim was making – it wasn’t like McCoy hadn’t been forced to listen to his best friend’s sexcapades before (the room was small and hardly private), but something about the knowledge that he was the one making him moan like that made it completely different.

Jim was panting now, and McCoy leaned in to kiss him, but Jim turned his head away, saying, “Oh, fuck yeah, just like that…” He needed to feel that mouth against his, though, to find out what that amazing tongue could do just one more time. He dipped his head and tried to catch Jim’s lips, but this time Jim pushed him away with one hand on his shoulder.

“No kissing. Oh god… oh fuck oh shit oh yeah yeah yeah—“ He clenched McCoy’s shoulder hard enough to make him wince as he came, and it seemed to take forever. There was a moment when McCoy thought he might get that kiss after all, but then Jim patted him on the shoulder and turned away, as if they hadn’t just had sex, and dropped casually onto his bed. “Night, Bones.”

It was a while before McCoy was able to sleep.

+++

The sound of Kirk scrambling into his uniform was what awoke McCoy the next morning. He considered pretending he was still asleep, but he really had to piss, and he wasn’t sure he could wait for Kirk to leave. He sat up in his bed and scratched his chin. He had no idea what to say after the events of the previous night.

Jim Kirk, of course, had no such reservations. “I don’t know about you, but I always sleep like a baby after a great fuck.” He grinned and sat on his bed to pull on his boots.

“Yeah, well.” McCoy had expected it to feel awkward, but somehow, it didn’t. “Let me know if I can be of service again sometime.” He hoped that didn’t sound quite as desperate as it felt.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Boots on, Kirk rose and headed to the door. “Damn, I’m already late. Wish me luck.”

“Hey, Jim,” McCoy said, and hesitated just a moment more before asking the question that had kept him awake half the night. “So… why wouldn’t you let me kiss you?”

Jim turned back and quirked an eyebrow. “You’re my best friend, Bones. That’d be weird.” With that, he disappeared through the doorway.

McCoy leaned back against his pillow and smiled. Oddly enough, Kirk was right.

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