“Aye, we’ve got ‘im,” Scotty’s voice warbled through the communication system.
“Just bring him straight to sickbay.” Leonard McCoy sighed and released the comm button on the wall, shaking his head. “Dammit, Jim, what did you get yourself into this time?”
A few minutes later, the main doors leading into sickbay slid open and Jim Kirk was half-carried through by Sulu and an ensign whose name McCoy couldn’t recall. Kirk was doubled over in pain, holding swollen hands out in front of him.
“What the hell happened this time?” McCoy barked, gesturing them towards the nearest examination room.
“Some sort of plant life,” Sulu said, grunting as he supported Kirk’s weight. “It was mobile, though we don’t think sentient.”
McCoy looked up from his tricorder. “You’re saying he was attacked by a plant? What the hell happened to his hands?” They were covered in what appeared to be tiny needles, presumably from the hostile botanical life form in question.
“Nnngh,” Kirk said, doubling over again as he was hoisted onto an examination table.
“It just jumped out at him, sir,” Ensign Whats-his-name replied. “We were doing a standard scan, and then there was this plant-thing, and—“ He glanced at the captain, an expression of deep regret on his face. “I should’ve been in front, sir.”
“Yes, well, we all know how pig-headed our great leader can be, don’t we?” McCoy started to run the tricorder’s scanner past Kirk’s spiny hands, watching the display carefully. “That’ll be all, gentlemen, assuming you didn’t suffer any injuries yourselves?”
Sulu shook his head, and patted Kirk on the shoulder in sympathy before turning to leave. The still-guilt-ridden ensign followed him.
“Of course it only attacked you,” McCoy muttered. “I don’t see why the captain needs to go on an exploratory away mission anyway.”
“Shut up,” Kirk said through gritted teeth. “Can you get these things out of my hands, please? They’re killing me.”
McCoy looked up from the tricorder and frowned. “These spines appear to have released some sort of toxin into your bloodstream. We’ll have to analyze it in order to synthesize an antidote. What other symptoms are you experiencing?”
Kirk winced. “Other than excruciating pain?”
“Is the pain localized in your hands?”
Kirk paused. “Yes.”
McCoy shot him a look. “Don’t bother playing me with that damn brave act. Nurse Chapel!” He picked up a pair of tweezers from a nearby tray and began plucking the spines from Kirk’s palm.
“Ow, fuck!” Kirk jerked his hand away. The spines were hooked at the end, making withdrawal as painful as the entry had been.
“Oh, don’t be such a baby. I’ll give you something for the pain, even though you don’t deserve it.” McCoy picked up a hypospray and adjusted the dose before pressing it to Kirk’s neck.
“Yes, doctor?” Chapel’s head appeared in the doorway.
“I need you to extract a sample of the toxin from these spines and run a standard analysis.” He handed her a small tray with the three spines he’d managed to remove so far. She nodded, took the tray, and left the room.
McCoy returned to the task of picking the spines out of Kirk’s hands. With the painkiller in effect, he could make quick work of it, and the tedious task didn’t take long. He used every moment to berate Kirk for his foolhardiness, and to his general surprise, Kirk just sat there and took it. When all the spines were removed, McCoy applied a topical anti-infection agent and then bandaged both hands, more for the fun of it than out of any real necessity. The thought of Kirk not being able to use his hands for a day or so was highly amusing.
“Are you sure you’re not feeling any other effects?” McCoy asked after he finished.
To his surprise, Kirk blushed and looked away. “No.”
“No, you’re not sure, or no, you’re a damn idiot? Can you stand?”
“I’d rather not.” Kirk slumped over even further.
“Now you’re starting to worry me. What are you hiding, Jim?” McCoy pushed him back up to sitting.
“I’m not hiding—“ Kirk began, but the words turned into a groan. One bandaged hand moved down to cover his groin.
McCoy pulled that hand away. “You are, you’re—“ The words evaporated from his lips at the sight of a tremendous bulge in Kirk’s pants. He looked up, uncertain whether to laugh or slap the man silly. “You have an erection? Don’t tell me you got off on that!”
Kirk grimaced and turned even redder. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Bones! I don’t know why it happened, but I’m really not enjoying it.”
The sound of a throat being cleared behind them cut off McCoy’s witty retort. “The analysis, doctor.” Chapel was holding out a tricorder, a look of amusement on her face.
McCoy shot Kirk a glare before taking it and examining the chemical structure displayed on the screen. His eyes widened immediately. “Well, fuck me five ways to Wednesday. Is this what I think it is?”
Chapel’s lip quirked in an attempt not to smile. “It appears to be a naturally-occurring form of a thadanafil, only far more potent than any of the synthesized versions usually prescribed.”
“A what?” Kirk asked, squinting at the tricorder screen as best he could.
“It’s a compound that induces erections in humanoid males,” McCoy said, not bothering to hide his own smirk as he turned back to Kirk. “You’ve just received a very high dose and you’re on your way to developing priapism.” He pushed Kirk’s thighs apart and started to unfasten his pants.
“Pria-what? What are you doing?”
“Hold still, dammit. You’re experiencing a painful erection that won’t go away. We have to take care of it before your penis suffers permanent damage.” Kirk went pale at that, and lifted his hips to allow McCoy to slide his pants down enough to free his erection. “Good god, man!” McCoy said before he could stop himself.
He’d seen Jim Kirk naked plenty of times, and he’d done his share of looking, but never would he have imagined Kirk’s cock to be quite that big. The shaft was purple and the skin drawn so tautly it looked like it might burst.
“That isn’t normal, Bones, I swear.” Kirk’s eyes were wide. “You’ve gotta fix this!” He gestured at his erection emphatically, looking like a pornographic cartoon character with his swollen bandaged hands and enormous purple cock.
McCoy paused, staring at Kirk’s face for a moment, then looking back down at his penis. There were several possible courses of action, but the one he was most inclined to follow was… well, unorthodox at best. Fluid was leaking from the tip of Kirk’s dick, just a bit. McCoy pressed his lips together and nodded, his decision made.
“Nurse Chapel, leave us, and close the door. We’re going to require some privacy.”
Chapel coughed behind his shoulder, apparently also entranced by the sight of such an enormous erection. “Yes, doctor.”
The door slid shut, and McCoy took a deep breath. He crossed to a supply cabinet and returned with a tube in his hand. “This might be uncomfortable, Jim, but it’s better than the alternative.”
“What do you mean, uncomfortable?” Kirk looked a little green.
“The best way to rid you of this erection is to cause you to climax. Your penis is probably extremely sensitive, so I’ll be as gentle as I can manage.”
Kirk’s eyes went impossibly wider. “Wait, that’s the cure? You’re seriously going to give me a hand job?”
“Oh, for – I’m a doctor, not a rentboy.” McCoy nodded towards Kirk’s bandaged hands. “I would suggest you take care of it yourself, but that’s obviously not an option. Of course, we could always try the alternative.”
“What’s that?”
“I make a small incision in the base of your penis to—“
“Hand job. Great. Go to it.”
McCoy tried not to laugh. “Just hold still. And my hands are cold, sorry.” He squirted a generous amount of lube into his palm and stepped forward, trying to tell himself this was no big deal. Just a medical procedure. On his best friend’s erect penis.
Right, then. His fingers wrapped around the base of the shaft and he stroked upward experimentally.
Kirk made a hissing sound and jerked his hips back. “Sensitive, sensitive,” he spat. “Careful, fuck!”
McCoy tried again, but Kirk recoiled, clearly in pain. This wasn’t going to work unless he could somehow lighten his touch considerably.
Ah. Of course.
“Plan B, then.” He wiped his hand off on a towel and pulled a stool closer, then settled on it between Kirk’s thighs.
Kirk’s gasp sounded more like one of pleasure than surprise. “Oh, fuck… Bones, you don’t have to do this.”
“I know,” he said, and let the but I want to remain implied. He leaned forward and lightly trailed his tongue across the tip of Kirk’s cock.
Kirk’s eyes closed, and his mouth fell open, and he seemed not to be breathing, but he didn’t yelp or pull away. So far, so good.
McCoy licked again, still lightly, but covering more skin this time. He worked his way around the head slowly until he’d covered it with trails of saliva. The taste of pre-come spread over his tongue, bringing back memories of a drunken night in college, and he nearly smiled. He’d never thought he’d be doing this again, especially not with Jim Kirk. Not that he hadn’t thought about it. A lot.
“Okay, yeah, that’s going to work,” Kirk mumbled above him. “You can be a little less gentle.”
McCoy had to open his mouth fairly wide to take in the head, and was rewarded by a moan of pleasure when he did. Kirk’s dick was startlingly hot against his tongue, and the taut skin felt like it might tear if he wasn’t careful with his teeth. McCoy let his tongue wriggle against the underside while he sucked lightly, and worked the cock into his mouth as slowly as he could manage.
“Oh shit, Bones, yeah. Holy fuck, that’s…” He made a hissing sound through his teeth as McCoy added more pressure, and leaned back on his elbows on the examination table.
Kirk’s cock hit the back of McCoy’s throat, and McCoy sucked gently as he pulled back. He looked up to see Kirk grimacing. “Am I hurting you?”
“A little, but… in a good way.”
McCoy suppressed a snort, and took that as license to be a little rougher. Kirk’s sensitivity seemed to be lessening with every stroke of McCoy’s tongue, and after a few more slow slides down the shaft, McCoy found himself sucking Kirk’s dick in earnest. He wrapped a hand around the base and stroked as he sucked, and cupped Kirk’s balls with the other, something he always liked himself. He kept his tongue moving, swirling it around the tip before plunging that cock deep into his throat again, over and over until his jaw was aching from the effort. His own saliva was coating his hand and dripping down his chin, lubricating the shaft enough to speed up his strokes.
Kirk was moaning above him, so loudly that everyone in sickbay likely knew exactly what they were doing. McCoy pushed it out of his mind for the moment.
“Oh god oh yeah oh fuckfuckfuck--“ Kirk spat, and that was all the warning McCoy got. An enormous amount of semen filled his mouth, and it was all he could do not to gag. He closed his eyes, pushed it back and swallowed, trying not to think too hard about it. About any of it.
He kept sucking until Kirk’s dick became limp in his mouth, and he released it reluctantly. He had enjoyed that far more than he’d expected to. He was half-hard, and was fiercely glad the medical tunic was long enough to cover that up.
“I had no idea you could give head like that,” Kirk said, and McCoy looked up. Kirk grinned. “God, you should see yourself.”
McCoy stood, self-consciously wiping at his mouth, but Kirk pushed that hand away with his bandaged one. “Oh, no you don’t. I want to kiss you while you still look so well-fucked.”
McCoy leaned into him, and Kirk smashed their mouths together. It was more an approximation of sexual intercourse than a kiss, and McCoy groaned before he could help himself. Kirk’s bandaged hand snaked its way under his tunic, cupping his now-complete erection, and McCoy’s eyes rolled back in his head. It had been a damn long time since anyone else had touched him like that, longer than he cared to remember.
Kirk pushed himself to standing and slid one thigh between McCoy’s legs, rocking just enough to create friction. McCoy groaned into Kirk’s mouth and rutted against him, all pretense of medical necessity long abandoned. With Kirk’s tongue fucking his mouth and the pressure against his cock just so, it didn’t take long. He nearly went limp against Kirk as he came, harder than he’d come in years.
Masturbation really did suck in comparison.
Kirk was now planting wet kisses on his throat. “We need to do this again when my hands are healed. Considering how much you like just humping my leg, I’d say you’re in for a real treat.” He sounded immensely smug for a man who’d just had a blow job out of medical necessity.
McCoy pulled back and managed to collect himself enough to look semi-professional, rather than horny and desperate. “You do realize that was just a course of treatment, don’t you?”
“Of course. Which I’ll be happy to repay you for. But maybe in less sterile surroundings?” Kirk wiggled his fingers in the bandages. “So when do these come off?”
“By the evening, as long as there’s no residual swelling.”
Kirk tugged his pants up and managed to fasten them, then smoothed down the front of his uniform. “Perfect. My quarters after dinner, then?” He winked at McCoy and crossed to the doorway. It slid open, and McCoy could swear he heard the sounds of feet shuffling away quickly on the other side. “Thanks, Bones. And bring some of that medical-grade lube, would you?”
McCoy gaped after him. Either he’d just opened a huge-ass can of worms, or that was the best thing he’d done in years. If he had a shred of dignity, he’d just go straight to his own quarters, shower, and go to sleep. But hell, who was he kidding? He would show up at Kirk’s door tonight, horny and willing, regardless of how bad an idea it probably was. And it was a ridiculously bad idea, really. But it was Jim, and he’d practically been in love with the man for years now.
He hadn’t really realized it until that moment.
He sighed and picked up Kirk’s thick chart, which hadn’t been refiled since the last time he’d been in sickbay. He had no idea how he was going to describe this particular incident.
“Everything all right?”
McCoy winced. Chapel was the last person he wanted to face right now. “Yes, fine. Just give me a moment, would you?”
Chapel’s lips quirked into a smile. “I’m sure you’re well aware, Doctor, that even an advanced case of priapism is easily resolved with an injection of—“
“I’m aware,” McCoy interrupted, handing her Kirk’s file. “But sometimes an old-fashioned hands-on approach is best.”
Chapel raised an eyebrow. “Hands on?”
“It’s an expression, dammit.”
“If you say so.”
He couldn’t help but grin as she walked away.
***
Story Notes:
This was inspired by a prompt at the ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif)
st_xi_kink meme, but went in a slightly different direction than the prompter probably intended.
st_xi_kink meme, but went in a slightly different direction than the prompter probably intended.