browngirl

Title: Glitter on the Mattress
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: R
Pairing: Gaila/McCoy; Gaila/Kirk and Gaila/Kirk/McCoy mentioned
Summary/Prompt: McCoy cures Gaila's rainy day. With sex.
Content Advisory: Het, nonmonogamy, threesome contemplated.
Disclaimer: None of these characters or their settings belong to me.
Title from "Love Shack" because it seemed appropriate.
Author's Note: I apologize for the prevalence of ficlets recently. I have several longer stories in the works, but my life has been very busy this last month with both professional and personal obligations. Please bear with me, and I hope to post something a little meatier as soon as I can get it ready.

Gaila loves water but hates rain. It's just not part of her mental image of planetside life, built up during her childhood on space stations: she's never grown used to the way the sky lowers, the darkness seeping into the air, the spatters of cold drops made pelletlike by terminal velocity. She's had mishaps all day and now it's raining, and all she wants is a hug and a few orgasms, so she flicks through her mental list, makes a choice, and goes to find Jim.

Jim's roommate Dr. McCoy answers the door, relaxed in loose clothes with a leafy paper book in his hand and, if not quite a smile on his face, a lighter look than the sky outside. He's tall and broad and smells tasty, warm and male and alcohol-laced around the edges, so when he opens that plush mouth to tell her Jim's not there she stands on tiptoe and kisses him before he can say anything, and grins at his arched eyebrows and damp parted lips. "You're here," she says, tipping her head so her hair shifts around her shoulders, swaying just enough to make her stance resonate.

He wraps his arms around her waist before she has time to say more, and kisses the smile off her mouth.

Within five minutes they're both naked, within fifteen Gaila has her hands in McCoy's hair and her thighs over his shoulders, and sometime before she loses count of her orgasms she stares at the sparks flying across her vision and thinks that his wonderfully mobile mouth is so very wasted on answering questions and reciting prescriptions and snarling with loving disapproval at Jim. Well, maybe not that last, but as she whimpers and clutches his broad shoulders, his lips tender and his teeth perfectly sharp on her nipple, she imagines seeing his fond scowl directed at Jim across her breasts, Jim's bright laughing smile in response.

She's about to say as much as McCoy leans over her, but looks into his dark hazed eyes and kisses him instead, all over his face as he moves in her until his forehead crinkles under her lips as he shudders, until his eyelids relax to smoothness as he sighs and goes limp. She forgets her thoughts when he startles, when he tries to act shy and get out of bed; she twines her arms around his neck and laughs into his shoulder as she pulls him back down with her, and McCoy grumbles softly and slumps beside her, his hands wide and warm on her back.

Then the door opens and Jim steps in with the most ridiculously wide-eyed look on his face. Gaila grabs McCoy's shoulders when he tries to duck away again, hooking her knee behind his, and he collapses in surrender, hiding his face under his hand as Jim's shocked mouth curves into a grin and Gaila grins back. "Oh, fucking hell," McCoy mutters through his splayed fingers as Jim laughs, and Gaila laughs with him. Her rainy day has gotten so much better.