talentedtongue | oh my god i can't believe we're actually doing this XD

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oh my god i can't believe we're actually doing this XD

Uhura could feel the eyes on the back of her neck. Literally. It was a warm and slightly tingling sensation. Odd. She supposed she shouldn't really be surprised, though. She was new, and a Terran was a curiosity in the court. Her skin was unique, her hair was unique, and she was the only female available for observation.

The warm, tingling sensation moved to her shoulder and then, rather abruptly, down to her ass. Oh hell no. "If you'll excuse me," she said with perfect inflection and a flawless accent, turning gracefully even in the ridiculous shoes. "It is time for My Lord's daily--" Daily what? "Exercise. I must be there, in case he should he require anything of me." Perfect. Bones could do pushups and she could stand with a towel at the ready for brow mopping. Worst. Planetary. Excursion. Ever.

With a curtsy made slightly more awkward by the fact that the warm tingling sensation was now moving between her breasts, Uhura turned down the corridor on her right and made her way to McCoy's temporary quarters. She could still feel the damn eyes, and she knocked sharply before letting herself in to the room. The walls were partially translucent in places, but at least with the barrier of the glass she wouldn't have to feel the stare any more.

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Just for the record, McCoy was actually not enjoying any of this. It had all been a stupid misunderstanding - dammit, he put down his stuff for one second and he got mistaken for the guy in charge. He hated seeing his shipmates forced into his service, he hated all the stupid rules of etiquette he had to follow, and he really fucking hated this stupid fucking penguin suit he had to wear. He made a face, ran a finger under his collar, and glowered at his PADD again, willing it to have found a solution to this whole damn situation.

It hadn't.

As the door to his quarters opened, he looked up, took in the still startling sight of Lieutenant Uhura in that equally ridiculous, way more demeaning outfit. "You're ... here," he said, not sure how to address one's ... maid. "Uh ... yes?"

"It's time for your daily exercises, My Lord," she said, with just enough volume to carry down the corridor, just in case. The physical presence of the stare - Uhura had no way of knowing just how well and through what types of barriers this race could see. None of them did.

Uhura smoothed down the far too short skirt. Truth be told, it probably wasn't any shorter than the skirt of her Starfleet uniform, but that somehow didn't count. That was a symbol of power and accomplishment. This... this made her look like a sex worker. Granted, the differences in physiology between Uhura and the alien women who normally wore this uniform could be blamed for some of that. There was, after all, no shame in having a top with a neckline that hung down to your navel if you had nothing of any interest on your torso. Stupid alien culture. Stupid her for not knowing more about it before they'd beamed down.

"I'm here for the brow mopping," she said in a much quieter voice, sarcastic and meant to hide her extreme discomfort. She wasn't ashamed of her body, but this man was her crewmate. Her superior. He was never going to take her seriously now.

Edited (broken icon) 2012-02-16 06:40 (UTC)

"Oh, right, my daily exercise," McCoy repeated, definitely not looking at Uhura or any of the ... assets that the dress put on display. He looked around at the room, drummed his fingers against his PADD. Shit, daily exercise. Normally he just took advantage of the Enterprise's gym or chased Jim. Doing something like this was more foreign to him than he'd like to admit.

"Then I guess I'll ... do some sit-ups," he offered eventually, setting his PADD aside and getting to his feet. "Better get that towel ready."

Uhura dipped her head, and then headed for the en suite bathroom to get one. It was a part to play. A role. She just... had to think of it as a cultural experiment. There was no way to salvage all her pride. She didn't have to be able to feel Kirk's stare to know where it was whenever she was in a room with him. The worst part was, she couldn't even blame him. She couldn't blame any of them. She looked ridiculous.

So, no way to totally salvage pride. Now it was just about damage control. She was where she was dressed like she was and doing what she was. She could either blubber about it, or she could man up and do her damn job. There would be ridicule, no doubt about it. She was prepared for all sorts of obstacles when they returned and the story began circulating on the Enterprise.

But that was the future, and this was the present, and she was going to be the best damn Gentleman's Personal Attendant that she could be. At least no one would be able to say that she hadn't given the situation 100% of herself.

Resolve newly firmed, Uhura turned and headed back into the main room. She could absolutely do this.

Edited (broken icon) 2012-02-16 06:41 (UTC)

As Uhura went into the bathroom and gathered her shattered pride, McCoy tried to figure out how the hell to do sit-ups without ruining the goddamned monkey suit he'd been given. Finally, he shrugged off the jacket and rolled up the sleeves, tossing the jacket onto his recently vacated chair. Settling down onto the floor, he put his hands behind his head and began his crunches.

Some people might expect that McCoy was in less than top physical condition, since he was a doctor, not a bodybuilder. Nuh-uh. He was still Starfleet, and Starfleet expected all of their recruits to be in top physical condition, no matter what their academic track was. As a result, it was easy enough to do the crunches, and though he knew he'd need a brow-mopper eventually, it'd take a bit.

When she came back into the room, McCoy was already going at it, and a rather large part of her was just relieved that he was being so accommodating. Uhura went to the chair, folded and draped the jacket so it wouldn't crease, and then sat herself down on the edge of it, keeping her knees tightly together. "I... needed an excuse to leave, and once I said the word daily, exercise was the only thing I could think of." It was as close to an apology as she was capable of offering at that exact point in time. She wasn't going to criticize him or point out that he probably should have changed or... mention that he was making the most annoying little... grunting noises.

Stupid warm-tingly-staring aliens. Uhura hunched her shoulders slightly, trying to keep the very smooth and very slick material of her new uniform from sliding over her skin any more than it already had been.

"Exercise - is - fine," McCoy grunted between crunches, hoisting his upper body off the floor and grimacing. "Those - fuckin' - perverts probably - think - we're - having - sex, anyway." He flopped back with a groan, resting a hand on his stomach. "Bet they put air quotes all the fuck around 'daily exercise.'"

"Hey," came a voice from just outside, recognizable as one James T. Kirk, their captain, currently dressed in an ensemble mostly resembling a butler's tuxedo--but with strange snaps and panels allowing access to the tight uniform. "Those aliens are obsessed. I mean, more than me. They told me you were having--"

He stuck his head in, staring at the tableau; Bones on the floor, sweating and grunting, and Uhura bent over, her assets clearly displayed.

"Sex," he finished, blinking.

"You see?" McCoy demanded, sitting up on his elbows and shaking his head, glowering at Kirk and Uhura and the room in general, because goddamn his luck, goddamn this planet, and goddammit, Uhura needed to put her knees together better. "Air quotes all the fuck around it. Jesus Christ, when do we get out of here?"

Who said sex? Why were they talking about sex? Well, Kirk was here now. That's why they were talking about sex. Because he never seemed to talk about anything else. But could Bones stop saying it... especially while he was grunting and-- For that matter, could Bones please stop being called Bones?

Wait, no. Kirk had come in saying they thought they were having sex before he'd even seen them. Then something clicked. "Gentleman's personal attendant," she said softly. Her spine instantly went straight, breasts pushed out in front of her as an unavoidable side effect, and she looked down at them as though seeing them for the first time. "Gentleman's. Personal. Attendant. Oh my God. Oh my God."

She jumped to her feet. No luck on fixing that view for you, McCoy, sorry. In fact, she'd just made it worse. "I'm a sex worker. I'm supposed to be attending to your..." She made a vague hand gesture at his crotch and tried really really hard not to think about it. "That's why they've all been staring and touching and why every time I turn a damn corner these come flying out." In retrospect, it was probably a mistake, grabbing her own breasts...

How the fuck had she not seen this? How had she missed a fucking sex planet? She was currently coming up on almost two years of celibacy, sex was always on her mind. How the fuck had this completely escaped her.

Why was it so warm all of the sudden?

Jim stared at Bones, puzzled and feeling the weight of command. "Get out of here?" he echoed. "Bones, this is our job. New life! New civilizations! New..." He waved hand that encompassed all of them including Uhura's outfit, which was incredibly distracting.

Especially with her boobs popping out like that.

Jim was a professional. No really, he was working on it, and he did a good job, mostly. He didn't ogle anyone on the bridge, and you know, he'd known Uhura for long enough now that that was sort of a joke. No, really. From where she was standing now, though, Jim was pretty sure McCoy could see up her teensy little skirt. And now she was--dear god, she was touching herself. Jim hoped she was planning on turning some corners soon.

His brow furrowed. "That reminds me," he said. "I said something about being a butler and they said I was a gentleman's gentleman. What does that mean? I thought valets parked cars. Anyway have you noticed that they're all touchy-feely but like... they've got no where to, you know, put it? At least, not that I've found so far."

If one desired to look, one would find evidence that Jim had in fact been in need of such a thing.

...and right up the skirt. He was definitely staring, unable to stop himself, because ... holy jesus fucking dammit, he was getting a view straight up Lieutenant Uhura's skirt and the little black panties she was wearing underneath. Suddenly, all the blood in his brain was going elsewhere, and he felt kind of ... wobbly. That she was grabbing at herself didn't help.

It seemed to click then that he was staring up her skirt, and McCoy scrambled into a sitting position, slamming his thighs together to hide the suddenly awkward bulge in the slim-fitting trousers he'd been provided with.

"A gentleman's gentleman?" he got out, managing not to sound too squeaky. "Jesus H., how many sex slaves does one alien need?"

...shit in a bucket, sitting up brought him at eye level with Jim's crotch and the bulge there and UNIVERSE. YOU HATE ME. WHY?

"They don't think we're slaves. I mean, they aren't slaves." Yes, Uhura was still holding her own boobs, and she was also staring vacantly at a point off in the distance. "Everyone I've spoken with... it's an honour to be an attendant in a noble house. They vie for the opportunity." Now that Jim had said as much, it was so damn obvious. It wasn't disrespectful or demeaning or designed to make them uncomfortable. "They think we're beautiful," she said, a little bit of wonder creeping into the scandal in her voice. "They touch us because they don't realize they shouldn't and they stare because... because it doesn't occur to them that it's rude. They just want to know us." It was almost impossible that it could exist, but... "We've found an entire planet where sexuality is truly free and open. They assume we're like them because it's just never occurred to them to be ashamed by any of it. They have no frame of reference."

Oh, the study she'd be able to write about this place. Suddenly, the warm, tingling gazes traveling her entire body seemed almost... sweet. Maybe they did know what it did to her. Maybe that was the point. "What if... what if they stare at us because they know what it feels like? Because they want to make us feel good?" They just wanted her to be happy. When she got past the annoyance of getting wet every time any of the aliens gave her a slow and thorough once over, it was almost sweet, what they were trying to do. "I think their entire bodies might be erogenous zones. They don't know how we have sex, they don't know what we need to get off, they're just... trying to figure out how to please us. They just want us to feel good."

Jim stared at Uhura during her... lecture, or whatever. Contrary to some opinion, much of it probably centered in this room and wherever Spock was, Jim was capable of operating on multiple levels at once. Right now, he was watching Uhura hold her tits and look all gooey as she spoke like she was going to melt right into the floor, and damn was that hot. Uhura wasn't an ice queen, by any means, but she was professional and it wasn't Jim's fault if all this talk was turning him on. Turning him on more, that was. Bones too, by the look of the man.

But he was also listening. In increasing disbelief as her words piled up. Not at the content of her speech itself, but at her tone. She sounded... surprised.

"Seriously, are you just figuring that out?" he said when she finally stopped. "Look, we've been on missions before where my pants stayed quite comfortable the entire time. Once or twice. I could have told you what was going on five minutes after we got here. I thought it was sort of... obvious. I mean even before the hour I just spent trying to find their... you know. Because this place? This place is doing it right."

Which was to say, it perfectly matched Jim's own philosophy of life and love and as such, seemed absurdly normal to him. Uhura's wonder was incomprehensible.

Uhura finally broke out of her fog long enough to focus on something. It was Jim. Her eyes said that he could be an idiot sometimes. "We aren't talking about a small sub-sect of a culture, or one horny Captain who couldn't keep it in his pants if his life depended on it. We're talking about an entire civilization." She finally let go of herself, if only to use her hands to emphasize her words. "An entire planet without the concept of shame or guilt or taboo. We're talking about purely unspoiled instinct. It's unique in the known universe." Jim just... he didn't get it. How could he not see what a find this place was? How incredibly unlikely and rare and, because of that, precious and beautiful. Jim Kirk knew what it was Uhura did, but sometimes she wondered if he was ever going to understand it.

Well. That sounded fucking great. "That'd explain why that female seemed so disappointed when she grabbed my wrist and nothing happened," McCoy remarked, trying not to focus on Jim's crotch right in his fucking face or Uhura holding her boobs and talking like that was a thing you did, but staying on something real, something solid, something that wasn't like heat coursing through his veins and an insistent throbbing in his trousers. He swallowed. "Wouldn't be surprised if there was something in the air, too. Tricorder picked up something foreign; couldn't analyze it."

He closed his eyes, took in a steadying breath, opened them again. God fucking dammit, the one fucking mission he went on away team was to some goddamned sex planet where he was expected to be banging Jim and Uhura just because he'd put his fucking duffel bag down. It wasn't that McCoy had a problem with sex, or feeling good, or thinking other people were beautiful, or any of that shit, he just. Here. It ran counter to everything he held dear, every scruple he had. Free love was for other people. He didn't truck with that.

Jim did truck with free love. A lot. At least for him. Intellectually it was good for other people too but he hadn't really thought much about it. Anyway Uhura wasn't making sense, and wouldn't even if she hadn't let go of herself which wasn't a bad view either because her hands had rucked the flimsy dress a little.

"I know," he said slowly, staring at her like she was the one who was slow. "Isn't that what I just said? And anyway, my life has depended on it and I have kept it in my pants as you would know if you didn't have to spend your entire shift behind me."

Probably not the worst view either, he mused.

He glanced down at Bones, smirking a little when he thought "Bones" and extremely proud of the old nickname. "So like... sex pollen?" he asked. "Their idea of diplomacy is to allow us to service you and just in case, let's roofie the air?"

He inhaled deeply, a look of concentration on his face.

"Nope. I don't think it's working on me."

"No," Uhura said, leaning back against the desk and once again looking very far away, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth while she thought. "It's working." It didn't occur to her that this wasn't something she should admit out loud. This was cultural science. The problem wasn't with her, the entire planet was designed to lower inhibitions. Sheer force of will was the only thing that was keeping her together at this point. "It's not diplomacy. They think this is how we are. They think it's what we want. They think we want to be together. The diplomatic relationship is something entirely separate."

Which was ridiculous. Wanting each other. It was the air. The air was the reason that every time McCoy had said 'fuck' followed by a little grunt, she'd felt heat rising in her cheeks and tingling across her skin. The air was the reason she couldn't even look at Kirk anywhere but his infuriatingly smug and egotistical face. The air was the reason she was, even now, trying to remember how to get down to the kitchen even though she knew it would be wildly inappropriate to drag one of the cooks into the nearest pantry regardless of the fact that he was part of their visiting party. Not that it mattered. Her legs probably wouldn't carry her that far, anyway.

The thrill of new discovery, which on its own made her stomache flip and her pulse race, just a little, was even better here. By which she meant it was worse. Worse. Right. Even just biting her own lip felt better than it had any right to. When she took all of this into consideration and forced herself to stop feeling like a sex crazed maniac for allowing herself to think that way, God it made so much sense. She was excited... intellectually. It was intellectually stimulating. It was also making her breathe faster which, yeah, she should probably try and stop that now.

"Jim, you're constantly horny anyway, of course you wouldn't think it was working," McCoy sighed, deciding he had had e-fucking-nough of being eye level with Jim's and Uhura's crotches and that he wanted to be taller than them again. Getting to his feet, he brushed the suit off and just prayed that neither of them noticed that he was still half-hard. Goddamned aliens with their sex air. Uhura was not helping with that sexy little dress and the way her boobs seemed to have their mind set on escaping, and neither was Jim, because those pants were doing things to that man's ass and crotch that Leonard was pretty sure were illegal.

Thinking that Uhura was hot and being mildly attracted to Jim were not new things. Wanting to bang both of them like screen doors in a windstorm was, and he wasn't sure he liked it having it forced on him. He raked a hand through his hair, trying not to look at Uhura's mouth as she bit her lip, trying not to imagine what those plush lips would feel like wrapped around - no. No no no no no. And just to make things better, he was getting harder again. Super.

"So what do we do now, then?" he asked, putting his hands on his hips and scowling, because if he got angry, he didn't have to think about how scared and worried this was making him. "Jim?"

"Well I did say 'on me,'" he clarified. "I must be immune." He shifted again, the strange pants rubbing against him in exciting ways and it's not like anyone could blame him for this.

Okay. He was the captain--it was his job to figure this out. What did they know? There was some sort of aphrodisiac in the air that, luckily, he was immune to, but the others weren't. There were aliens who really liked touching people and wanted them to enjoy it, too. There wasn't any diplomatic repercussion there, because obviously, this was just normal with them and it wasn't likely they'd need to include it in the report--just "Made contact and complied with local custom" should do. Uhura was really turned on, and Jim wanted to bite that lip for her, but he crossed that last part off because it wasn't new. Bones being obviously turned on was new, and very interesting because Jim had always been sort of confused about him.

The answer seemed pretty obvious, even with his new "responsible captain" bit, which really he'd been good about, and what happened on Rigel II stayed on Rigel II. Well. Mostly.

"As captain," Jim began, inhaling to make his pronouncement, "I--"

He cut off as he felt a presence behind him, a tingling sensation on his ass that felt appropriately appreciative. He turned to see the aliens peering into the room, somewhat scandalized though Jim got the sense it wasn't from the compromising tableau but the lack of it.

"Uh," he said. "I think we're not showing you the proper... respect," he said, glancing over at Uhura who was the expert with this alien stuff. Unbeknownst to him, whatever had been going on behind him had dislodged a corner of the flap covering his buttocks, folding it back to reveal a hint of firm flesh.

Uhura was pretty sure she knew what Jim had been about to say. She was pretty sure she'd have wanted to slap him for it. Then suddenly, there were aliens at the door, peering into the room to see if there was a problem they could assist with, no doubt drawn by the raised voices. Uhura straightened her spine even more and tried to compose herself enough to speak to them. And the action drew their attention. Drew their gaze.

The tingling. She felt it on her face and moving slowly down her neck. She felt it on her legs and moving slowly up. On her breasts again, taking even more care to examine now that her dress was mussed. Moving up her thigh and the thin material of her uniform did absolutely nothing to block it. Even when they weren't touching her they were touching her. They were all over her body. Kirk had provided plenty of information on the males of their species. Now all they had left to learn about was the lone female.

Absolutely, completely maddening, and Uhura lost her words. She gasped, and it drew even more attention to her. Her teeth were back on her lip, trying to hold in the sound. Both hands found purchase on the edge of the desk that was now supporting her weight fully because her legs just weren't able to do it any more. "Unh." No language left, just the warmth and a need that had really been there for years, just pushed down and ignored, and Uhura closed her eyes and let her head tip back and tried to remember how to breathe, chest heaving slightly with the effort. Why wouldn't they stop looking at her so she could think?

They were staring at McCoy, too, now. He could feel the heated weight of their gaze on his shoulders, his arms, along his chest and down his stomach, and the heat seemed to concentrate between his legs, which did absolutely nothing for the already indelicate situation he was facing. God, Uhura was right. Their gazes made everything they looked at on a living being an erogenous zone. The soft material of his suit brushing over his skin was setting his nerves on fire, to say nothing of the - oh, dammit, the silk boxers.

The noise Uhura made - didn't quite snap him out of it. Maybe it was more into it. Or something. He couldn't quite get words into the right order anymore; his brain felt like it was moving through soup.

"Uhura," he said, and his accent had thickened, drawling her name out to four, maybe five syllables, "you okay?"

No one was asking if he was okay. Jim pouted, though he could draw up no real ire as the scene unfolded in front of him. Uhura was going to come on the strength of those gazes alone and it was really, really hot. Her head tipped back, the column of her throat an elegant curve Jim wanted to lick. Or watch Bones lick. He wasn't really picky, here.

The aliens were closest to him, and now were physically nudging him forward which set his ass all tingly again. He was used to enjoying that part of his anatomy but not, you know, remotely. It was fascinating. The creatures seemed very displeased with their work so far, but really, even Jim Kirk wasn't about to force himself on anyone. Even his best friend and his... communications officer. He swallowed.

"Look," he said. "We're all adults here. There's no--ahh, mmm--reason we can't keep this between us."

Between us. Uhura between them, or some other configuration, he wasn't picky. His cock was threatening to burst forth from his pants and it looked like the little panels fixed into it might even allow that. Or encourage it.

"Hey," he said, turning towards the aliens. "We've got it from here, okay? We're just, ah... our customs are a little different. So um... we'll be fine. Okay?"

Uhura was quickly leaving higher brain function in the dust. They were still looking, just looking, but oh God it had been such a long time. Her reaction was what they'd been waiting for, really, this whole time. They could please the Terran female. It just required more of them! The knowledge was exciting, they wanted to see just what would happen next, but... customs were to be respected. Perhaps there was a special kind of bond about to be formed. Perhaps they had a process that required only three. The Royal Three should be informed, regardless. Progress had been made!

The aliens began backing slowly out of the room, bright and open smiles on their trusting faces. Uhura was shaking now, tiny little tremors running through her body, and a light sheen of sweat beginning to rise on her skin. Jim wasn't wrong. She was close. Pride was gone, she was never going to live this down, and most of her had completely given up caring. It had been too damn long. "Please," she whispered, not even aware that she was talking. She didn't even know what she wanted, what she was asking for, she just needed something. Something more. She moved just a little, her thighs shifting against each other, the slick material of her dress caressing her skin, and she whimpered almost as though in pain.

She was so close. So close she could taste it, and even though no one was touching her, it was still different than doing it for herself. There was an added layer of sensation she'd been missing. A lack of control. Her fingers were gripping the desk hard enough now for her nails to leave tiny crescent shaped dents. It was her only solid connection to the world.

"Lieutenant!" It was getting harder for him to think and focus now, his own erection throbbing almost painfully in his trousers, not to mention Jim's - Jesus Christ on a cracker, those pants were so tight he could practically tell what religion he was. God, why did he have this urge - this need - to trace that shape with his mouth, outline it with his tongue - no! Dammit, McCoy, fucking focus!

Quickly, as the aliens began to leave, he crossed the room to Uhura, resting a hand on one burning hot shoulder. "Lieutenant Uhura, are you all right?" he repeated, voice huskier than usual, but he ignored it, ignored the urge that screamed for him to just grab her and bend her over the desk and fuck her until she screamed.

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oh my god i can't believe we're actually doing this XD

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so, yeah... LJ apparently ate this. i'd make a dirty joke, but i'm mad at myself for not checking XD

snrk.

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can't find a better icon right now. not much with zoe saldana all flustered and horny

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so how perfect is this icon i just stumbled upon literally two seconds ago?

A++!