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1: Scotty
McCoy had hoped to have a normal, regular, uneventful day in Sickbay. He needed it. Sorely.
He was falsely lulled into success as his first coffee break came and went with nothing more exciting than a twisted ankle, catching up on paperwork in his office whistling a soft little tune from his childhood days.
Not five minutes later Chapel called for him. Sat on a biobed was Scotty, a mighty fine blush on his face covering the grimace of pain.
"All yours, Doctor," Chapel said and sashayed away for some peace and quiet that should have been McCoy's but clearly wouldn't be.
"Alright, Scotty. What can I do for you?"
"A privacy screen," Scotty mumbled, squirming on the bed.
McCoy pressed a button and the screen snapped in place. He and Scotty may be friends, but a patient is a patient.
"You know this'll stay between us," he said, reaching for a medscanner and letting it whir to life.
"Ach, Doctor." Scotty sounded embarrassed, and regretful, and his squirming became more pronounced. "I may have gotten a wee bit enthuastic in a Jeffries tube."
"And?"
Scotty sighed.
"And I got a little... scratched."
McCoy held back a sigh.
"Mind taking off your pants for me?"
"No one will know?"
"My lips are sealed, you know that, Scotty."
Reluctantly, Scotty unclasped his pants and wriggled out of them with an unhappy expression, mouth flattened into a line as his hands then landed on the hem of his briefs.
"It was an accident, I wouldnae-"
"Scotty, please, I just need to check you over, don't make this harder for either of us."
With an embarrassed little huff, Scotty gingerly pulled down the briefs. His penis was scratched, alright, but the bleeding seemed minimal.
"Let's get you cleaned up, and I'll put some salve on it. It should be enough to reapply for a few days. I don't think you'll need the regen, but come back if it starts to itch or bleed or otherwise looks like it's getting infected. And for the love of god, Scotty, leave it alone for a week at least."
Nodding, face buried in his hands, Scotty said nothing except for a small squeak when McCoy cleaned him up.
"Consider being more careful next time," he said once they were done and Scotty had covered up again.
"Next time!" Scotty looked alarmed, that red hue returning to his cheeks. "As if I would-!"
Sighing, McCoy sent him on his way.
2: Sulu and Chekov
The next day, Mccoy's afternoon was interrupted by two groaning officers, who both really should know better.
"Infants," he called them, because they were. "Care to explain why you thought it was a good idea to kick each other in the balls?"
"It wasn't necessarily a good idea," Sulu groaned.
"It was practice," Chekov said, biting his cheek against the pain. "You see, in Russia-"
"I don't see, actually," McCoy said.
He ran the scanner over their private bits, not even bothering to ask why they felt fine showcasing their (admittedly bruised) private parts to each other.
"It will be most effective against the Klingons," Chekov continued, sounding vicious through the pain. His accent seemed more pronounced for it. "They will not expect it!"
"And neither did you," McCoy muttered.
He fixed them up, took them off duty for the next day, and spent ten minutes lecturing them on practicing safer methods of combat training. When he was done, Chapel gave him a raised eyebrow as he stomped back to his office.
"Do I want to know?" she asked, following him through the doorway.
"Nope," he sighed, sinking down in his chair and scrubbing at his face.
That was three officers' dicks he hadn't wanted to see in only two days. Maybe Chekov and Sulu would actually listen though. He didn't hold much hope for Scotty - the man had a penchant for getting himself stuck in places he shouldn't be stuck, and he dreaded the day they'd have to come and saw him out of some mechanical equipment.
"I'll get you a coffee," Chapel said with a sympathetic look.
"Bless you, Nurse."
Leaning his head in a hand, he hoped that was the last time in a good while he'd need to ask a crewmember to drop their pants for him.
He wasn't optimistic about his chances, though.
3: Uhura
The next day rose bright and shiny with artificial light beaming straight into his eyes as the computer accidentally went for lights a hundred percent instead of the mumbled ten he'd asked for. Wary, he entered Sickbay for his shift. Today was a mission day, which made it likely something was going to happen. He never knew if it would be weird, dangerous, or just plain improbable.
He and Chapel did some inventory while waiting. There hadn't been a need for a doctor on the landing party as the Gyuudons were friendly and peaceful, but M'Benga had still beamed down for some hands-on experience. Anyway, McCoy didn't like landing parties without medical expertise, and Jim usually indulged him.
When hours passed and nothing more interesting than a call from Jim on the bridge happened, he dared to relax a bit, which proved a fatal mistake.
Not long after, Uhura entered Sickbay, flanked by a very uncomfortable-looking Spock.
"Are you alright, Miss Uhura?" he asked, hurrying to meet them.
She hummed in thought. Her beautiful face scrunched up in part amusement, part irritation.
"I'm not too sure, Doctor," she said.
"I believe I shall return to the bridge and inform the captain," Spock told them before turning on his heels and fleeing the scene.
McCoy raised an eyebrow at the sudden departure. He shook his head, then waved Uhura over to a biobed. He snapped the privacy screen in place without prompting, and then turned towards the frowning officer.
"Would you be more comfortable with Chapel?" he asked, but she shrugged at the question.
"I think I'll need your help, anyway."
He nodded, then blinked as she pulled up her dress. In her delicate underwear was a bulge that he was fairly sure wasn't usually there.
"It seems, Doctor, that I accidentally drank something that wasn't meant for Humans," she said.
She sounded calm, only a slight tightening to her fingers around the dress betraying some nerve.
"Uh, yes," he agreed. "Well then. I'll run some tests... Did you find out what it was?"
"Doctor M'Benga stayed behind to see if he could find out."
Gently, he motioned for her to lie down on the bed. As far as the scanner could tell, there was nothing wrong with her, except for the sudden appearance of the outward appendages which were neatly connected to her body in the vital ways. It hadn't changed any organs on the inside - not yet at least.
"I'm hesitant to do too much before M'Benga reports back," he said, scratching his cheek. "At least you seem physically unharmed, otherwise."
"I don't suppose it has all the functionality?" she wondered.
"It might be a little strange, but nature's call shouldn't be a problem," he smiled.
"Oh," she said. "Hm. And the rest?"
He stared at her, telling himself he was a doctor, dammit, and not a blushing schoolboy.
"I don't think you have any actual sperm production, but the blood vessels... That is to say," he started, then cleared his throat. "I'd prefer to keep you under observation, if it's all the same to you, Miss."
Her mouth formed a soft pout, and McCoy could understand why Spock had fled earlier. The curiosity of a scientist, certainly, and he should be glad for her lack of panic.
"One so rarely gets to walk a mile in a man's shoes," she mused, an impish twinkle in her eyes. "Would you say I'm at least well-endowed, Doctor?"
McCoy resisted the urge to call for Chapel.
"Miss Uhura," he said, trying to sound stern. "A simple country doctor like me would never dare comment on a lady's girth."
Her laughter pealed through Sickbay. Even so, McCoy decided he was utterly done with things.
4: Spock
The third day in a row of unfortunate penis sightings started with an ensign with a rash. Easily treatable, followed by a long lecture on safe sex across species. It was almost bearable, he thought, and focused on his research after returning from lunch - a lunch he'd eaten in the company of a few xenobiologists from Spock's department. The other senior officers needed a break from him and he from them, and both Jim and Spock seemed to have opted for a different lunch schedule.
And so, when he looked up from his microscope and found Spock staring at him, his first thought was that the Vulcan had something work-related on his mind.
"You could announce your arrival, you know," he muttered, reluctantly pushing the microscope to the side. "Almost scared my heart out of my chest."
"Doctor," Spock said, foregoing their usual banter. "I require your aid."
"Shoot."
"I am not carrying a phaser, Doctor, nor would shooting it inside Sickbay be advisable."
McCoy rolled his eyes.
"Very funny," he drawled. "Now either tell me what you want or let me work in peace."
Spock thinned his lips into a line, clasping his hands behind his back. His back was ramrod straight and his eyes shifted around the room. Slowly, with a sinking feeling in his chest, McCoy realized Spock had a medical issue. And if it was bad enough to force the Vulcan into Sickbay, it was probably going to suck for both of them.
"It's just you and me in here, but I can lock the door if you'd like."
"You may need your equipment."
He held back a groan. At least Spock didn't look like he was actively dying, and there was no frantic Jim hovering behind him.
"Off we go, then," he said, and shooed Spock into Sickbay proper. Once again he got the privacy screen in place, and when he turned back to Spock he found his pants dropped to the floor and his briefs halfway down his thighs. Even his years of medical training and facing the unexpected hadn't prepared him for this.
"Jesus, Spock," he griped. "At least make some noise when you undress."
"I was not aware noises were required. However, it appears my lok has reacted negatively to something."
"Uh-huh."
McCoy put on gloves and sterilized his hands, leaning closer to touch the swollen sheath to get a look at the appendage peeking out. The skin had turned an angry bronze color, and aside from the swelling there seemed to be skin irritation and possible rashes.
"Got any idea what that something may be?"
He glanced up at Spock's stoic face, which revealed nothing. A quick scan told him what he'd already seen with his eyes, and also showed trace amounts of an acidic substance.
"Fruit?" he asked, doing his best to sound neutral.
"Ah," Spock said. "Perhaps the fruit we received as gifts from the Gyuudons."
"Right. And you learned nothing from Uhura's little accident?"
Spock pursed his lips.
"This particular fruit has no averse affects when ingested."
"No," McCoy agreed. "Only when applied externally."
McCoy wasn't sure what to think, and it wasn't his business to think about it, anyway. It was bad enough he had to suffer through a conversation with Spock half naked.
The doctor in him was considering the best way forwards. The man in him was trying not to imagine Spock touching himself, or being touched by someone else. Someone who might have eaten fruit before getting on their knees-
He shook the thought away, angry at himself. Even if Spock had found a lover it had nothing to do with him. He wouldn't be caught half naked in the presence of the Vulcan, that was for sure.
"Alright," he said, returning to business. "I'll run some tests and we'll have you fixed in no time, so don't worry."
"Vulcans do not worry."
Giving Spock a glare, he did what he did best - cure the improbable, which now included Vulcan first officers whose genitals didn't take well to certain fruits. Shore leave couldn't come fast enough.
5: Jim
Half an hour after Spock's departure, Jim slunk into his office with a sheepish look on his face.
"Hi, Bones," he said, remaining standing rather than claim the visitor's chair like usual.
"Let me guess," McCoy muttered, throwing aside the PADD he'd been using to work on Spock's patient file. "Your dick itches?"
Jim's face shifted into mortified irritation.
"What happened to your bedside manner?"
Spock, he almost answered. But that would be betraying some doctor-patient confidentiality, so he only sighed.
"Let's get you on a bed," he suggested.
"I could think of more pleasant reasons to get on a bed," Jim muttered.
At least their usually so illustrious captain did as told, slinking through Sickbay with a grimace on his face and gingerly getting onto the bed. With Jim it was always best to get him horizontal if possible, to reduce the possibility of escape. The biobed monitor beeped into life as McCoy got the privacy screen in place, but at least Jim waited to get undressed until McCoy motioned for him to go ahead.
"It was fine until some ten minutes ago," he complained, revealing reddened skin and swelling that looked almost as bad as Spock's had been. "Then all of a sudden-"
He threw his hands out while McCoy got started on checking him over. Jim winced at the touch. The scanner showed the cause easily enough.
"Gyuudon fruit?" McCoy asked with a raised eyebrow, grabbing some sterilized wipes to clean off the residue of the fruit.
"Oh," Jim said.
"Should have washed your hands," McCoy told him, ignoring Jim's pained twitching as he cleaned him up and applied the same salve he'd used on Spock.
Once done, he hit Jim with a hypo.
"How many people got that fruit, anyway?" he asked, putting equipment away as Jim carefully pulled his pants back up. "Might want to inform them of potential negative side effects."
"Just the landing party," Jim said, focused on getting dressed and therefore missing the arch of McCoy's eyebrow rising higher.
"Which you were not part of, if I remember correctly."
Caught, Jim's hands stilled over the hem of his pants.
"I uh... got some leftovers."
Suddenly, McCoy had a vision of Jim in Spock's quarters, on his knees, mouth filled with the taste of fresh fruit and something else, something musky and male, and a hand he'd licked clean wrapped around his own cock.
Maybe the effects were simply delayed in human anatomy, McCoy thought, trying to swallow down some sort of emotion.
"Right," he said. "Leftovers."
Jim's cheeks reddened, but he held himself in a dignified manner as he smoothed out his shirt and waited to be cleared for duty.
"You're always telling me to eat healthier stuff, anyway."
"Sure, Jim, like alien fruit that does god knows what to the human body."
Huffing, Jim put his hands to his sides.
"It tasted like grapefruit," he said.
"Didn't ask."
Tilting his head to the side, Jim squinted at him with a more calculating look than he liked.
"You know," he started, "Vulcans are big on sharing gifts. Kind of illogical to eat a whole basket of fruit on your own."
"Really didn't ask, Jim."
But Jim wouldn't relent. His mouth curved into a handsome smile, lighting up his face and doing nothing to calm McCoy's heartbeat.
"I'm sure he'd share some with you if you wanted."
McCoy gritted his teeth, considering the punishment for smacking a superior officer. Maybe considering their long friendship and the fact he was provoked would lighten his sentence.
"I've got better things to do than eat strange, alien concoctions."
"Fruit," Jim said. "Not concoction. Though it might make for a good cocktail..."
"Out," McCoy said, punching the button that released the privacy screen. "And if you don't feel better tomorrow, you need to come back in whether you like it or not."
Jim winked at him, walking backwards.
"Miss a chance with those surgeon's hands? Don't count on it, Bones."
He left before McCoy could find something suitable to throw after him. Sometimes, the man really knew how to push his buttons. Sure, they flirted a little now and then, but it wasn't serious. He didn't like the implication that Jim had caught onto his interest in Spock, though. If the two of them were involved...
No use getting upset over it, he thought. In any case, it'd be a cold day in hell that he admitted it out loud.
+1: McCoy
Several things went wrong the next day.
McCoy had started to think of it as "the week of unfortunate dicks", and that was his first mistake. His second mistake involved breakfast, and the need for a second shower and fresh clothes as his tray upended all over his front. Thirdly, he met Spock in the turbolift and told him about his planned visit to the botany labs later in the afternoon.
And, fourthly, he opened the door to one of the botany labs that afternoon without knocking, and with not a single thought in his head that he'd need to take cover.
The result was a sneeze of some kind choosing him as its unfortunate victim. It was wet, and sticky, and he wiped it out of his eyes to a chorus of oh no and that's not good.
"What in blazes did I just get sprayed with?" he asked, resigned to his fate.
He still couldn't see much through the goo, but Sulu shuffled his feet and cleared his throat, and when he'd taken too long his partner in crime took over.
"I'm so sorry, Doctor," she said, and he vaguely recognized the voice. "You startled the poor thing."
The poor thing in question was a tall, cactus-like plant with multiple yellow flowers that looked like trumpets. Blinking through the mess on his face he figured it wasn't going to kill him at least.
"Side effects?"
It was her turn to clear her throat now, and McCoy remembered her now as lieutenant Myers.
"You won't like it," Sulu said, wincing. "We really thought we'd locked the door."
As if on cue, the door slid open again as Spock joined them.
"Doctor," he said as he took stock of things. "It appears you have been subjected to the-"
"Obviously," McCoy growled. "Now is anyone going to tell me what exactly is so bad about it or am I gonna have to find out the fun way?"
Both Sulu and Myers winced. Sulu glanced at Spock, as if searching for guidance. It was not his lucky day, for Spock remained silent after McCoy's interruption.
"It uh, it has an effect on... that is, it tends to..."
McCoy resisted the urge to reach out and shake the man.
"Sulu..."
Holding his hands up in a placating gesture, Sulu finally found his wits.
"It's an aphrodisiac, Doctor," he said. "Should pass after a few hours... But you might want some help with that."
Week of the unfortunate dicks indeed, McCoy thought in despair.
"Unfortunate," Spock said in a monotone voice as if reading his mind. "Doctor, I suggest you remove yourself from duty and isolate in your quarters."
And wasn't that just about the worst thing he'd ever heard out of Spock's mouth?
"Great," he muttered. "Just incredible. Precisely what I needed, and I didn't even have to get off the ship for it!"
He turned towards the small sink in a corner, washing off as best he could. Already he was starting to feel a little hot under the collar. He'd better hurry - wouldn't do to walk around the ship with a raging erection courtesy of some alien cactus.
When he made to leave with one last glare in the flower's direction, he was surprised and not a little bit annoyed to find Spock following.
"And what do you think you're doing?" he asked as they headed for the lab's exit.
"It is inadvisable to return to your quarters alone until we have ascertained that the side effects are mild."
A mild erection, McCoy thought humorlessly. Could be worse. Of course, it could also be better, but one had to count one's blessing deep in space.
Spock followed him all the way to his door, and then through it. Once there, McCoy was starting to feel an itch in his pants and just barely resisted shoving his hand down his pants.
"Alright, Spock. I think I can manage from here."
"I will notify the captain."
"You-!" McCoy spluttered, too stunned to stop Spock from heading over to the comm panel on the wall. "I don't see why Jim needs to know about this!"
The comm chirped, and soon enough Jim's acknowledgement was heard.
"Captain, this is Spock. Doctor McCoy requires our immediate assistance in his quarters."
"Why, what's wrong?" Jim asked, sounding concerned.
"Nothing!" McCoy squeaked. "No assistance needed from either of you!"
Spock ignored him.
"As one says, on the double, Captain."
"On the double..." Jim repeated, astonished. "Well then. I won't be a minute."
Furious, and horribly aroused, McCoy clenched his fists and considered his chances of bodily removing Spock from his quarters. Low, but perhaps with the element of surprise...
"Doctor, you appear agitated. I suggest you sit down and attempt to relax."
"Relax!" McCoy shook his finger at Spock. "What do you mean, relax! I don't need an audience to deal with this, this, this flower accident!"
Spock gave him a mildly concerned look.
"Research suggests the effects are more manageable when aid is provided."
Gaping, McCoy forgot about his anger. Was Spock honest to god suggesting that he and Jim help get him off? This was too much, even for medical concerns. Surely Jim would arrive and talk some sense into the Vulcan. It may be that he now knew Spock to not be completely uninterested in sex, but this was something else!
"Please, Doctor. The couch will be more comfortable."
Not knowing what else to do, McCoy sat. His dick was already tenting his pants, but Spock seemed content to remain by the comm panel and wait, pretending he couldn't see the embarrassed shifting as McCoy rearranged things. Some few minutes later the door slid open to reveal Jim, his captain-like frown morphing into something more confused as he took in the scene.
"Well?" he asked. "What's going on?"
"Absolutely nothing, Jim. Please take your meddling first officer with you back to the bridge."
Rather than comply, Jim raised an eyebrow and turned to Spock.
"As I said over the comm, the doctor requires our assistance. During our visit to the botanical labs, he was unfortunately sprayed by one of the samples we brought from Tarel VII. The side effects are-"
"Spock, please," McCoy groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to shower. Should have done that first. And when I come back, I want the both of you out of my quarters!"
He stood and quickly retreated into the bathroom. Peeling his dirtied uniform off, he tried not to shiver as the material of the pants brushed over his now very sensitive cock. Maybe if he jerked off quickly, the so called side effects would pass. He went for a water shower, figuring this was a special occasion. As the hot water washed over his shoulders he braced himself against a wall, the other hand moving down to grip himself firmly. It might have been better with lube, but the relief was strong enough that he moaned out loud. Spock could probably hear him with those superior ears of his. Unless he'd left. He hoped he'd left.
Even so, as he hurriedly stroked himself, he couldn't help but imagine hands that didn't belong to himself, lips touching his neck, whispers into his ear... He came with a muffled cry into the crook of his elbow, and was horrified to realize that the pressure hadn't eased one bit. He was still hard, still aroused, heat filling his body and pooling in his gut.
"Fuck," he swore, reaching down to work on his balls for a moment.
He rolled them between his fingers, biting at his lips to hold back another moan. All the while he strained to listen past the rush of water, wondering if they'd left, or if they were still there, waiting for him...
His second orgasm took him by surprise, body trembling from the force of it.
Not enough. Would it ever be enough? He felt feverish, mind going hazy. Maybe some help wouldn't be so bad, after all. It was hard to think rationally, when his cock pulsed with need and his own hand didn't bring the release he so desperately needed.
"Bones?"
Jim's voice was muffled through the door, but it was enough to make him whimper.
"Bones, let us help. I'm sure it's uncomfortable for you. We don't want you to suffer needlessly."
He whimpered again, squeezing the base of his cock. His whole body felt sensitive now, burning up from the inside. Damn Sulu, forgetting to lock doors... What were they doing with that plant anyway!
"I'm fine!" he called back, then groaned as he ran his hand back up his cock, thumbing at the swollen head.
Silence, and then the door opened. Jim stepped inside the bathroom, and McCoy had time to take in the determined look on his face before yelping and turning away.
"Jim, what in blazes do you think you're doing!"
"Bones, come out of there and let us take care of you."
Jim's tone was soft, pleading. It was tempting, breath hitching in his throat as he thought about listening to his captain. He trusted Jim, but this...
"Don't," he moaned, hand pressing his dick against his stomach, trying to tamp down his erection by pure force of will.
"Bones, please. Spock is right, you need our assistance."
"Like hell I do!"
There was the faint rustling sound of clothes dropping to the floor, and then Jim stepped into the shower and turned the water off. His hands fell to McCoy's back, steady, warm. They ran up his shoulders, then down along his spine. Finally, they settled over his hips, applying gentle pressure that had McCoy suck in a sharp breath.
"You need us, Bones... And I think you want us, too."
He bit the inside of his cheek, hard. Jim's hands on his body felt like a blessing, but it stoked the fire as much as it soothed it. He wanted to push back into his hold, beg for it, for some relief from the flames rippling through his body.
"We'd meant to ask you..."
Jim trailed off, and through the haze of his feverish mind, McCoy felt hope surge within him. He shuddered, relaxing under Jim's touch. Emboldened by his reaction, Jim continued.
"We want you, Bones. I'm sure you guessed that Spock and I... But it doesn't feel complete without you."
He could cry, from emotion, from tightly wound arousal.
"God, Jim," he forced out, gasping for breath. "You have me, Jesus, just-"
Jim spun him around and pulled him close, pressing their lips and chests together. McCoy's cock pushed into the front of Jim's uniform pants, only his shirt and socks removed. The friction was delicious, and he pushed further into it, seeking more. To his great disappointment Jim moved back, wincing a little.
"Ah, sorry, Bones. I'm still a bit..."
Slowly, the memory of the day before returned to him. He felt his cheeks darken, pulling away from Jim. He didn't get far, not with Jim's hands clasped on his forearms.
"Come on, Bones," Jim said, eyes glittering despite the discomfort he must clearly feel. "I shouldn't keep you all to myself."
He tugged at McCoy until he followed, returning back to his quarters where Spock waited calmly, hands clasped behind his back. Blush deepening, McCoy wished he wasn't stark naked and dripping wet while Spock was still fully dressed.
"We can't precisely join in," Jim said, clearing his throat, "but we shouldn't have any problems taking care of you."
"Jim," he protested, but it was feeble, and he didn't struggle when he found himself on the couch again.
"How many times did you ejaculate?" Spock asked, like it was a perfectly normal question and didn't send McCoy spluttering again.
"Please, Doctor, I am only attempting to calculate the amount needed to cease the effects of the plant specimen."
Spock's calm exterior was offset by Jim's amusement, and certainly by the way he eyed McCoy's body up and down with something akin to hunger.
"I don't think we need to keep count, Spock," Jim said. "Though it's not bad to set goals. Five, maybe?"
"At minimum."
Looking back and forth between them, McCoy nervously licked his lips. He was still hard, despite the cooler air of his quarters over wet skin. He was making a mess of the couch, but as Jim stalked towards him like a hunter stalking prey, he found he didn't much care.
"Are you sure...?"
Jim smiled, kneeling in front of him. Spock came to join him, sitting down by McCoy's side.
"Very sure, Bones. I only wish the situation wasn't so dire."
Huffing, McCoy crossed his arms, though his body betrayed him by a shiver as Jim placed a hand on his knee.
"Well, you can blame Sulu for that," he grumbled.
When Spock placed a hand on his other knee he almost jumped. He was so hard that it hurt - actually hurt - and when Spock's hand slid up the inside of his thigh he let out a noise he was never going to own up to if they brought it up again.
"I'd say he needs us quite a lot, wouldn't you say?" Jim teased, leaning in between McCoy's legs and breathing hot air over his groin.
"Jim," he whimpered, burying his fingers in those golden-brown locks.
The smile Jim gave him was wicked, and not a little bit cocky. Torturously slowly, Jim dipped his head down and brushed his mouth over the length of McCoy's dick, tickling it more than pleasuring it.
"I swear to god, Jim," he growled, then quickly moaned instead as Jim took him into his wet mouth.
His head fell back, and Spock seized the opportunity to latch onto his throat. Two mouths on him, and he felt ready to burst at the seams. He gasped as Spock bit down over his pulse point, and squeezed the meat of his thigh in tune with the bite. Unable to help himself, he bucked his hips up and spilled into Jim's waiting mouth, breathing hard as Jim licked him clean.
"One," Jim said cheekily. "Any requests?"
"Mmph," was the only sound McCoy managed to produce, his chest heaving as he tried to find his voice again.
"He would prefer his testicles to be stimulated as well," Spock said, reading his mind.
"Dammit," McCoy said, tugging weakly at Jim's hair. "You're too good at that."
"Compliment accepted." Jim nuzzled his spent cock, little kitten licks mixed with lewder kisses. "Spock?"
Spock's hand moved to cup his balls, a firm touch that made McCoy roll his hips in search for more. He didn't get it. Jim went for the soft skin at the crease of his thigh, sucking marks into it with a pleasurable sting that brought McCoy to the edge fast enough that his head spun from it.
"Please," he mumbled, one hand searching for Spock and grabbing at his shoulder from an angle. "Need it... more..."
His lips tingled when Spock kissed him, that rough alien tongue licking at them until his mouth opened around a desperate little sound. He felt Spock's fingers tighten around his balls, at the same time as Jim's teeth marked him. A groan tore out of his chest as he came once more, swallowed by Spock's determined mouth. He felt like the kiss was deep enough to suffocate him, and heady pleasure spread through his body as it trembled through his orgasm.
"Bones, look at you," Jim praised him, dipping his fingers into the mess on McCoy's stomach. "What was that, the third, fourth one? Think you can handle a few more?"
He could barely handle this one, but Spock was still kissing him, still held his balls in that firm, unrelenting grip and it was driving him crazy.
"Spock, come here," Jim urged him gently, and with a filthy, wet pop Spock ended the kiss.
His eyes had closed at some point, but now McCoy opened them to find Spock's dark gaze watching him intently. He was still fully dressed, still in that blue uniform, and not even a wrinkle on it.
"What do you have in mind, Jim?"
Jim hooked a hand under McCoy's left leg and pushed it up, spreading him wide.
"I think we can both fit, don't you think?"
Fit with what, McCoy wanted to ask, but all he managed was a shudder and a weak moan. He felt sluggish, relaxed, though his skin seemed to prickle with anticipation. He couldn't remember ever coming this many times in a row, and wondered if he should put in a request to have that plant declared illegal.
"I see," Spock agreed, and kneeled on the floor.
Jim pushed his other leg up as well, exposing him in a way he might normally have felt embarrassed by. As it was he only watched, fever-sweat gathering at his forehead and on his chest, even as water droplets still ran down his neck from his soaked hair.
"Ready, Bones?"
He wasn't. Jim leaned in to suck at the base of his cock, chin bumping against his balls, and Spock mirrored him by closing his lips around the head. He almost shouted from overstimulation, hands gripping at the couch pillows and hips jerking forwards. They licked and sucked at him, taking turns to swallow him down and nose at his balls. At one point they both licked at his shaft, tongues stroking his cock as much as they stroked each other, a sloppy French kiss around him. The visual was almost better than the feel of it, watching their heads bent together over his crotch, heated eyes on each other with him in between.
His orgasm took longer to reach this time, but when he tumbled over the edge he forced himself to keep looking at them, the way he spurted over Jim's lips and cheeks and the way Spock cleaned him up with his eager tongue.
"You're killing me," he moaned, trembling pathetically, still spread wide for them to do with as they pleased.
Jim pushed himself up, hand combing through the hairs on McCoy's chest, teasing a nipple.
"We're helping you, Bones," he said with humor. "Just a little treatment... Just like you helped us."
"That was different!"
He couldn't muster up much heat behind the words, though, slumped as he was against the couch. There was a glob of semen caught in Jim's hair, and he bit his lip at the sight.
"Perhaps some penetration would be beneficial, Spock suggested, and Jim's eyes instantly lit up.
"You're a genius, Spock. What do you prefer, Bones? Fingers, tongue? Got any toys, maybe?"
McCoy slapped his hands over his face, unable to even think about it. It was too much. They really were killing him, but he was still hard, still needed more, and if he didn't die from overstimulation the dehydration might do it.
"My tongue, your fingers?" Jim said lowly, talking to Spock.
"An acceptable compromise, Jim."
"Killing me," McCoy repeated.
Jim rose and left, returning moments later with a bottle of lube. Specifically, the bottle of lube McCoy had hid in a drawer that should not have been found so quickly.
"How did you..." He paused, deciding he didn't want to know. "I'm not sure I can manage to come again."
"You can," Jim said, sounding sure.
It almost sounded like an order. McCoy filed his reaction away for a later time - maybe if he was lucky the spike of arousal was due to the flower and not the thought of Jim using his captain privileges to order his CMO to orgasm.
Jim handed the bottle to Spock, who wasted no time slicking up his fingers. When he felt the first digit press against him he shuddered, thighs twitching from the caress. He wondered how a touch telepath felt about sticking their fingers up someone's ass, and then he promptly stopped thinking. Spock sank one finger inside, and Jim joined in with mouth and tongue. It had been a long, long time since someone fucked him, and McCoy pressed his hands over his mouth in an attempt to stay silent. His hips bucked and thrashed until Spock held him down, using that Vulcan strength to keep him in place. The combination of Spock finding his prostate and Jim sucking hard around that finger had him seeing stars. He felt ready to cry, body trembling with pleasure, and Spock was still massaging his prostate like a scientist eager to repeat the result of a previous experiment.
"I can't," he sobbed, writhing on the couch, unsure if he wanted more or to get away from them. "Please, I can't..."
"One more," Jim said, sympathetic. He reached up to stroke McCoy's cock, lube making the glide easier, less rough. "You're still hard, Bones, and we want to make sure it won't come back."
"Since when are you the doctor on this ship," he gritted out between clenched teeth, unable to do anything but lie there and take it.
Spock added another finger, and he almost choked on a scream.
"Damn it, Bones, I want to fuck you so bad... Do you have any idea what you look like?"
"He is rather more manageable in this state," Spock agreed.
McCoy considered kicking them both in the face. He settled for digging his nails into Spock's shoulder, glaring at him when those fingers pushed and pulled in a way that almost felt like fucking but wasn't nearly filling enough.
"Your own fault for involving fruit during sex," he reminded them, Jim's answer being a slightly sheepish grin.
"In my defense, it had a wonderful taste," Jim said. "Now, Bones, how would you like to come?"
The ache in his dick had become familiar by now, toeing the line of too much pain and too little pleasure. He couldn't decide, and didn't particularly care. When he said as much, Jim rolled his eyes while Spock merely pushed his fingers in deeper, forcing the breath out of McCoy's lungs.
Jim seemed to think for a minute, that look on his face that was more familiar when they ended up in danger and in this situation only made McCoy wonder if he was in over his head. But Jim merely huffed in amusement and got up on the couch instead, cupping McCoy's cheek and turning his head to kiss him. It was softer than Spock's kiss, but no less passionate. He felt himself drown in it, the warmth and security, the utter belief that Jim was looking after him. That Jim cared, in ways he hadn't dared think he did. He almost forgot about the steady movement of Spock's fingers until Jim reached down to wrap a hand around his cock again, more teasing than helpful as he held it in a loose grip.
"Come on, Bones," Jim coaxed him through the kiss. "Come for us."
He moaned, arching his back as Spock dug into his prostate. He wanted to, needed to, but it was starting to hurt. Like his body knew it wasn't right and struggled against the artificial arousal.
"While your aroused state is pleasant, Doctor, it would be beneficial for your health to achieve orgasm shortly."
"Then say something sexier than that," he complained, grinding down on Spock's fingers as best he could.
"I think that was his version of dirty talk," Jim snorted, latching onto his neck instead.
He was going to be bruised all over after this, he thought, breathing hard as Jim's mouth went lower, passing his collarbone and chest, teeth gently closing over a nipple. Spock's hand which had pushed down at his hip moved higher, caressing his side before veering inwards to work on the other nipple, leaving his hips free to seek its pleasure from those talented fingers. He braced himself against the couch and gave into the pleasure, let it fill his mind and body until there was a ringing noise in his ears, and his vision turned blurry. His heart pounded in his throat, voice hoarse as he moaned and swore and alternated between their names as they kept pushing him towards one last finish.
When it happened, it was almost underwhelming for all the build-up that preceded it. It felt like all the pressure in his cock eased up, released with a few short spurts of come landing on his belly. His body was too tired to properly deal with the rush of endorphins, merely letting it pass through him as he let out a sigh and melted into the couch.
"Better?" Jim asked, pushing hair off his forehead and brushing a thumb over his cheekbone in sweet concern.
"Mm," he managed, blinking tiredly.
Spock eased out of him, moving to sit on the couch beside him.
"It would appear the pollen's effect has worn off."
"Good," Jim said. "Let's get you cleaned up and into bed."
He was glad to be exhausted enough that Spock carrying him to bed wasn't as mortifying as it normally would be. Jim cleaned him up with a towel dipped in hot water, and when they slipped the covers over him he almost missed the fond looks on both their faces.
"Get some sleep, Bones," Jim told him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "We can talk about things when you wake up."
Spock pressed the tips of two fingers to his lips, and then they both retreated. He wouldn't have minded if they stayed, but there was a ship to run and duties to be performed. At least, McCoy thought, if anyone else had a dick related problem that day, he wouldn't need to deal with it.
And with that satisfying knowledge, he drifted off into sleep.