Title: Vodka Pt.2
Series: Five Drinks
Previous: 1)Burbon 2)Vodka pt. one
Summary: Christine could taste coffee and peaches in his mouth still and a sharp tang of vodka – a taste she would forever associate with him, and this moment.
Pt. 2 – Lecture Hall
Christine grunted as she smashed her kneecap into the seat in front of her, whispering an apology to the ensign behind her as she shuffled down the aisle of seats towards the only empty seat in the whole lecture hall. She practically broke her ankle racing through the corridors of the station to make it to the seminar and it throbbed angrily as she finally dropped down into the empty seat beside a rather annoyed looking Andorian. The clicks and whistles of the Xindi presenter echoed in the vast lecture hall as Chapel readjusted herself into her seat, trying to ignore the pain in her ankle as she looked around the room.
The flyer that McCoy had shoved rather hastily into her hand earlier that day was crumpled in her now sweaty fist as she tried to pick him out of the crowd from her position in the back of the lecture hall. She had no idea so many medical students were on the station at any given time – there were easily a thousand people in the room with ranks ranging from Commander to Cadet. Christine felt very out of place with no Padd to take notes or a recording device of any kind. If it hadn’t been such a trial to get herself wedged into place she would contemplate loitering in the hall until the end of the presentation.
“Thank you, Professor. That was an enlightening dissertation on the effects of artificial gravity on the mammalian psyche. Next, we have a Terran physician, Dr. Leonard McCoy, up from Starfleet Academy to speak on the topic of Astrophobia and its impact on new personnel.” The Vulcan presenter said with a cool voice, drawing Christine’s attention to the podium immediately. She couldn’t stop a smile from stretching across her face as Leonard came up to the podium. He had changed out of his Cadet’s uniform, amusing Christine in part because she knew the reason behind it, and she had to admit that he looked even more delicious in the black instructor’s uniform from the academy. She sat up straight and absently patted at her hair and uniform, hoping that she didn’t look too disarrayed.
“Dr. McCoy volunteers at Starfleet Medical while attending...”
Christine’s heartbeat increased with anticipation as McCoy’s eyes traveled the seats – looking for her or his friend, she supposed. She sucked in a breath when his eyes locked on to her, and she gave a feeble wave. McCoy smiled crookedly back and his dark eyes warming her even across the hall. Christine giggled, causing the Andorian beside her to give her another annoyed look before pointedly turning his eyes and stalks to the front of the room. McCoy seemed to straighten a bit in his posture but relax his face and manner as he looked up at her from the lecture floor. The Vulcan presenter finally finished her long narration and turned over the podium to McCoy, and Chapel settled against her seat to listen. McCoy’s eyes left hers as he took his place at the front of the room; the microphones catching him clear his throat as he put the first streams of data up on the screen.
“Astrophobia is related to, but not entirely inclusive of the symptoms of Aviaphobia...” McCoy spoke with a calm surety, though Christine frowned when she heard only the faintest trace of a southern accent in his words. McCoy was a good speaker, keeping his voice at a good volume and letting his gaze travel over the audience instead of focusing on one person. Christine stifled a yawn as he delved further into the physiological effects of phobias, and fought to keep her eyelids from drooping. Her uniform clung to her body after the exertion of racing down the hallways, her muscles warm from the effort. Leonard’s voice rolled over her in waves as she relaxed, gradually easing her head back against the seat and letting her eyes drift shut. It would only be for a moment, and then she’d analyse the next set of data. She let out a deep breath and tried to focus on McCoy’s words, but found herself being lulled by the cadence of his voice into a light doze.
The Andorian beside her coughed rather loudly and Christine awoke with a jerk. She blinked groggily before noticing that the hall had begun to filter out, and the entire aisle beside her was empty. Her jaw dropped in horror as she scrambled upwards, wiping a bit of drool that had formed from the side of her mouth as she stood.
“Oh sweet merciful,” Christine muttered as she made her way down the aisle and back out to the stairs. She pressed herself back against the wall as people went by her making their way out into the station. She bit down on her lip and berated herself mentally for falling asleep. She’d busted her ass to get down to the presentation and then slept through his whole damn section. She just had to hope he’d been too busy speaking to notice her nodding off in the back forty. “Goddamn it Christine...”
“You know,” a familiar voice said from beside her with a chuckle. “Talking to yourself is commonly held to be an indicator of insanity.” Christine closed her eyes and groaned as she took in McCoy’s voice. He was warm and solid beside her, his long arm brushing against her own as people nudged into them on their way down the stairs.
“Leonard, I am so...” Christine began apologising but was cut off by McCoy pressing his lips to hers in the gentlest kiss she’d experienced in a long time. It was nothing like the heated lock of mouths they’d engaged in during the shuttle ride or even the long wet explorations of their first night together a year ago. This kiss was nothing more than soft lips pressed against hers. She let out a puff of air as she tilted her head to better match his angle. It was over in a second and then McCoy’s forehead was resting against her own, a chuckle coming from deep down in his chest. “Cher, you best not be laughing at me, I feel terrible...”
“I can’t believe you fell asleep,” he snickered. The smell of the coffee he must have had earlier made Chapel grin as she bumped her nose against his own in a teasing gesture. McCoy pulled his head back and moved a finger up her jaw to brush a strand of hair back behind her ear. His smile was crooked and his eyes crinkled up at the corners in the way that never failed to make Chapel’s heart skip a beat. They were mostly alone in the lecture room, a few of the presenters were fussing at the front as McCoy slung his arm around her shoulders and she wound one around his waist, snuggling into his side. He pulled her with him down the stairs, teasing along the way. “I look up in the middle of a fascinating section on anti-anxiety techniques to see you fast asleep and snoring on some poor Andorian’s shoulder. I would have been offended except you looked so damn comfortable.”
“Excusez-moi,” Christine gasped, pinching his hip lightly as she looked up at him. “I did not snore. I’ll have you know I raced my poor self ragged from the other end of the station to get here after my sister’s ship left orbit.” They had reached the front of the now empty hall, the last presenter exiting with a soft woosh of the doors. McCoy chuckled as he organized his papers and handed her back her bag from earlier that morning.
“Really,” Leonard drawled, his eyes moving slowly from the crown of her head to her regulation black boots; lingering heatedly at the low neckline of her uniform and the high hem of her skirt. Christine felt her cheeks redden as she swallowed clutching both the gift bag from her sister and her satchel in a tight fist. She licked her lips as he put the papers in a pile and moved around the table to come up in front of her to remove he items from her hand and place them on the table. “You don’t look ragged darlin’, you look just as delicious as you did when we walked off that shuttle this morning. He ran his hands along her sides and Christine shuddered as her belly tightened with want. She stepped forward to let her hands do a little roaming of their own when her ankle made itself known again.
“Merde,” Christine hissed, stumbling forward with a wince as McCoy raised his arms automatically to brace her. She raised her injured foot off the ground and shifted her weight to relieve the pressure. McCoy raised an eyebrow and pushed her back towards the table, lifting her onto it to bring her up higher. “Sorry Cher, seems I’m a mess today. I think I wrenched it tripping over a hatch; my tendon moved over the bone funny.”
“Well honey,” Leonard said with a straight face as he nudged her knees apart with his thighs and ran his hand down her leg to her injured ankle, “you’re in luck. I happen to be a Doctor. In fact, I’m a teacher of emergency care at the Academy.”
“Oh really,” Christine played along, a grin stretching across her face, batting her lashes to draw a snort from him. McCoy nodded as he carefully unzipped her boot, and drew the black leather off as her injured foot came free. His fingers were light as feathers as they danced along the bones of her foot to find the misplaced tendon and soothing the area with his thumb as Christine let her legs fall a bit more open to let him settle into the cradle of her thighs. “My ankle does hurt ever so much... I’d be obliged if you could see your way to putting it right.” She let her southern accent deepen as she looked up at him, her other leg rubbing up the length of his calf encouragingly.
“I certainly am capable of obliging you darlin’,” He growled fingers moving against her foot in a way that made Christine suck in a breath sharply. His eyes were almost boring through her with heat as he kissed her instep and made her shudder from the unusual sensation. “It will twinge a bit though.”
“I come prepared,” Christine laughed, and twisted slightly to reach into the gift bag her sister had purchased for her. A small clear bottle emerged, and Christine raised it triumphantly. McCoy hummed against her foot as he unzipped her other boot with his free hand. She flicked her foot lightly to get it off and curled her bare leg around his hips as she leaned upwards. “Martian Vodka, compliments of my sister. If this doesn’t blank out what ails you, nothing will. I brought it to celebrate your presentation.”
“I like a woman who thinks ahead,” McCoy chuckled as Christine pulled the stopper from the jug and raised it to her lips with a smile and a wink. She tossed back a quick swig and gasped as the liquid burned a fiery trail down her tongue to her belly. She shivered as McCoy licked a drop from the edge of the bottle, the alcohol settling in her in time with her pounding heart. Leonard moved his thumbs over her ankle and clicked the tendon back into place without any warning. She swore lightly, but the burn in her foot was quickly pushed out of her mind as McCoy placed a wet kiss on the same spot. “There now, that’s out of the way. I advise you to keep off your feet for the next hour.” Christine wrapped her other leg tighter and higher up his thighs and rolled her hips up into his. Leonard closed his eyes and groaned. “Alright, make that thirty minutes.”
“Why Doctor,” Christine breathed her hand sliding the zipper down her dress uniform as McCoy’s eyes followed its progress and the centimetres of creamy white skin it revealed. “However will I repay you?” She said as she slid her arms out of the top of the uniform and pulled her torso up against his, her breasts pressing against his chest through the black material of his uniform. She licked at his lips and he groaned at the sharp taste of the vodka still clinging to her mouth, his hand running up her thigh to tug her hips flush against the bulge in his trousers. She rolled her hips against him teasingly and he took in a breath.
“I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” He replied hoarsely, before kissing her deeply. Christine let her eyes shut as he pressed into her, the material of his uniform scratching lightly at her skin as her uniform pooled at her waist. McCoy’s fingers traced patterns on the inside of her thighs and Christine moaned into his mouth as her own fingers got to work undoing the fastenings of his uniform. The Vodka was potent in her system, especially since she hadn’t had a chance to eat since leaving the Academy that morning. McCoy tasted like coffee and peaches, Christine discovered as she sucked teasingly on his tongue while easing his uniform jacket and shirt off his shoulders. He broke their kiss to smile down at her in that crooked way of his while he shrugged the garments off his arms and down to the floor. Christine traced a finger down the lightly haired expanse of chest in front of her. He was more defined in his musculature than the last time she had seen him; a result of Academy training no doubt. He shuddered under her touch and trapped her hands against his abdomen when she started heading for more interesting landscape. “Oh no honey, you don’t get off that easy.”
“What do you mean?” Christine asked, frowning slightly. McCoy raised an eyebrow and stepped back to create a little room between them. Christine shivered at the loss of his body heat in the cool lecture hall. McCoy’s broad hands went down to his belt to begin undoing the rest of his uniform, drawing Christine’s attention to the lines of his hips that were revealed as his pants began to slide down.
“You fell asleep,” McCoy said in a mock grave voice, and Christine pursed her lips with confusion. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and drew his pants down his thighs to his feet. Christine bit down on her lip as he stepped out of his shoes and pants and back to her with nothing between their skin but her underwear and the skirt of her uniform. She reached for him again and pouted when he caught her hands and pinned them to the table, anticipation making her breathing deeper than before. “You weren’t paying attention in my lecture... Ensign. How can I be sure you’re competent in your field if you can’t even listen to a simple presentation?”
“McCoy –“ Christine began, but paused when he released her hands to grab her waist. He pressed a bruising kiss on her lips that she barely responded to before he lifted her off the table and flipped her so that her back pressed against his. Her skirt slipped down her thighs as she arched back against him. “What are you up to?” She asked bemusedly, taking in his warm body sliding against her own.
“Hands on the table, Ensign,” McCoy said in a low voice behind her ear. Christine obeyed, placing her hands flat on the table as McCoy’s hands skimmed the sides of her ribs down towards her hips. She squirmed as he hooked his fingers into her panties and drew them down her thighs, unable to see his face or reactions as he stripped her bare. She was excited at this unexpected turn of play – she supposed he was getting her back for calling him a Cadet and embarrassingly sleeping through his lecture. She cooperated as he bent her over the table, her breasts still confined in the navy blue lace she had chosen on a whim in the morning. His hands smoothed over her lower back in a soothing motion that belied the harsh tone of his voice. “Now Ensign, we’re going to go over the basic points of Astrophobia to make up for your lack of attention. I expect answers and focus, do you understand?”
“Why Leonard, I didn’t know you had it in you,” Christine teased, turning her head over her shoulder. She gasped as his hand came down lightly on her ass, a stinging slap that was more surprising than painful. She sucked in a breath to keep from moaning as he massaged the area with his palm, the hair on his thighs tickling the backs of her own at the edge of the table. She rested a warm cheek against the table as she grinned, understanding the game he had decided to play and secretly pleased. “I’m sorry ... Sir. I’ll try. Sir.”
“Better, Ensign,” McCoy sounded relieved; she guessed he hadn’t really thought this through when he’d started this role play. She moved her hips back against him encouragingly, trying to signal without words that she was completely with him on this particular fantasy. None of her Professors were as attractive as Leonard, but she couldn’t say it didn’t excite her to pretend for a short time that they were back at the Academy and engaging in the extremely illicit acts prohibited by Starfleet. He brought his erection in line with her entrance, and she hummed loudly in pleasure as he nudged just the head in. She had been aroused since their activities this morning, and she revelled in the slow burn of his entering her. “Now Ensign, what are the signs of an anxiety attack... this should be simple for you.” McCoy’s voice was choked with effort, and Christine fought back a snicker. They would obviously need to practice control for next time. The thought of more attempts made her shudder against him.
“Um, pale face, shaking, flushed f-f-features,” Christine said shakily, as he thrust home. Her fingers dug into the table and she tried to focus on her medical training and not the smooth slide of his thighs against hers as he rocked slowly forward. Her eyes slid shut and she took a steadying breath, determined to play this out. “Difficulty breathing, rapid pulse and pupil dilation.”
“You forgot something, Ensign,” McCoy chuckled, and brought a hand down on the other side of her behind, causing Christine to clench around him and jerk forward on the table with a moan. She panted for breath as he soothed the stinging area with his fingers again. He refused to move within her, pushing lightly on her lower back to prevent her from rocking back on his cock for friction. Christine swore in French, earning herself another smack on the ass that had her fisting her hands on the table and growling in the back of her throat. “Well?”
“Sir, “ Christine bit out, wanting to growl at him to just move damn it, but knowing that he wouldn’t oblige her just to make her wait it out. She clenched her inner muscles in retribution, enjoying the press of his fingers into her hip in response. Christine smiled to herself. He thought he was in control, but Christine was sure that she could outlast him in this little game. “Sorry Sir. “
“What’s your recommended treatment, Ensign,” McCoy said, and Christine felt a jolt of arousal from the heavy accent now obvious in his words. She had dreamt about the rough husky nature of his drawl in the lonely nights she’d had the past year. He’d begun to thrust slowly in and out again, and Christine rocked as best she could with his movements as she scrambled to remember the treatments from her courses on psychology.
“Sir, I’d give anti-anxiety medication if the case was severe enough, and space travel was the only option,” Christine said and swallowed hard as McCoy rewarded her by reaching a hand down around the curve of her hip to stroke her clit. She threw her head back and panted out the rest of her answer as his strokes quickened. “I’d also... also... endorphins, if they’re available... Sir...”
“Hmm,” McCoy’s voice was low and he leaned forward over her back to change the angle of his thrusts. Christine let out a sob as his cock rubbed right against her G-spot in combination with his fingers on her clit. She was losing her train of thought as he brought her closer to orgasm. “That’s good so far, Ensign, but what if you had no medication available? What would you resort to...”
“S’il vous plait, baisez-moi,” Christine begged in French, writhing between McCoy’s chest and the table as he snapped his hips into hers sharply. His breathing was ragged behind her ear, one arm braced beside her chest to hold up his weight. She tilted her torso to the side to slide a hand to cover his as she drew a knee up on the table to allow him to thrust more deeply. “I’d fuck you ... Sir. In a shuttle, in the station, on the deck of a Starship if I had to. Anywhere.”
“Christ darlin’,” McCoy panted behind her ear, and she turned her head to catch his mouth in a heated kiss as she came. She bucked against his hips as well as she could, the feeling of being trapped by him only making her come harder. She collapsed against the table, his hand still in hers as he let out a deep groan as he pumped erratically into her with his orgasm. For a few minutes there was utter silence in the lecture hall, only the sounds of their panting to accompany the hush of the station.
“Did that satisfy you, Sir?” Christine asked cheekily as McCoy pulled out of her and let her turn around on the table. He chuckled and gathered her up into his arms to place a kiss at her temple. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. Christine could taste coffee and peaches in his mouth still and a sharp tang of vodka – a taste she would forever associate with him, and this moment. Their hearts beat erratically in their chests, and Christine closed her eyes in contentment.
“Honey, I sure hope you meant it when you said anywhere, I intend to hold you to that,” McCoy’s hand was warm and soothing on her back, his fingers playing idly with the long strands of her hair. “No early morning get-aways. You’re mine.”
“Oui,” Christine smiled against his collar bone, her breath puffing against his heated skin. “I’m yours Cher.”
They stayed entwined for a few minutes more before redressing and hurrying out of the lecture hall, giggling like teenagers as they booked a shuttle back to the Academy.