blue flamingos

Passing Thoughts

Fandom: Star Trek reboot

Category/Rated: Slash-Threesome/NC17

Year/Length: 2011/1538 words

Pairing: McCoy/Kirk/Spock (background McCoy/Kirk, Spock/Uhura, Uhura/Gaila)

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them, for which I should think they're profoundly grateful.

Warning: consensual voyeurism and mind-reading during sex, negotiated open relationships

Summary: McCoy likes to watch; acquiring telepathy just makes that *better*.

Author's Notes: kink_bingo prize for janice_lester

Feedback: Yes please. Even if it's bad. Especially if it's bad.


"This isn't happening," Leonard says when he opens his eyes and finds Jim looking down at him, all big worried eyes and frownlines.

Trouble is, he knows it is, in fact, happening even before he hears Jim's troubled internal monologue, because he's coming around from being unconscious, his clothes are wet, and the priest said anyone touching the water of the sacred pool would be cursed with short-term mind-reading powers. Doesn't take a genius to know that's what's happened to him.

"Sorry, Bones," Jim says. Leonard gets it in stereo, out loud and in his head, and oh, this is not going to be fun, even if he can already see how it would be useful for all those medical complaints people don't want to say out loud.

"You damn well should be," Leonard says, sitting up. "And you can tell Ensign Lenkov that she's getting a full battery of tests to see if we can't mitigate her clumsiness, as soon as we're back on the ship."

He's a doctor, there are some things he doesn't need to read minds to know.


Jim waits until Leonard's more or less managed to get the mind-reading down to a dull roar, shutting the constant murmur of voices behind a mental door for most of the day, because he does not need to hear every passing thought of every person he passes.

Unfortunately, because he's Jim Kirk and he never met a crazy idea he wouldn't leap on, Jim does not keep his thought to himself. He doesn't even keep it just in his head.

Instead, he leans on the edge of Leonard's desk at the end of beta shift, while Leonard's trying to finish up the day's paperwork, and says, "You know what would be hot?"

Leonard can already hear Jim's thoughts as a louder murmur than the others – it always happens when someone's speaking to him – but he resolutely ignores them. "If I say yes, will you leave me in peace?"

"Me and Spock, and you can listen in." Jim spreads his legs a little, like that's going to help. "We all know you like it when you get to watch. How much better would it be when you can hear all of it at the same time?"

Leonard does like to watch, maybe more than he likes to join in. It's easier to focus when he's only got to get himself off, only got his own hand on his dick, and as much as he still sometimes wants to wring Spock's neck, that's only sometimes these days. The rest of the time, he likes looking at Spock and Jim together. "What about Uhura?" he asks, instead of saying yes. Doesn't do to let Jim hear that word too often.

"She's with Gaila tonight." Jim looks at him with the same vaguely confused expression he always wears when he's reminded that Uhura has no problem with Spock having sex with him and Leonard, but doesn't want to join in herself; similarly, she doesn't want Spock, or anyone else, in bed with her and Gaila, or with her and Spock.

Leonard's given up trying to persuade Jim that not everyone wants to sleep with him. It's a lost cause, anyway.

"Just make sure no-one's going to get called to the bridge like last time," he says, and lets the warmth of Jim's pleased thoughts wash through him.


Spock strips the way he always does, swift and perfunctory, and the moment he's naked, he drags Jim down onto the bed, holding him there.

"I'm still wearing my pants," Jim says, but his thoughts are one long moan of pure pleasure. Leonard sits back in his chair at the corner of the room and prepares to enjoy the show.

"Had you removed them more swiftly," Spock says. Leonard can see the eyebrow going up, even with Spock's back to him, Spock's thoughts full of appreciation for Jim's half-naked body, want to take them off you, how very appealing you look like that...

"You going to punish me for it?" Jim's voice is light, teasing, but there's a darker underlining to it in his thoughts, a moment of, no, don't, that's gone almost before Leonard hears it. He knows that was Jim, hiding it on purpose because he knows Leonard is listening.

"Since you have never yet learned from any punishment, I fail to see the logic behind a further pointless attempt." Spock runs his hand up Jim's chest, rubs his thumb over Jim's nipple. "When I could be enjoying myself with the promise of a successful ending."

"Ooh, Spock, talk dirty to me," Jim teases. "A successful ending, you really know how to make a man feel wanted."

It's working though – Leonard can read Jim's excitement in his thoughts, the possibilities spinning out, his awareness of Spock's thigh pressed against his growing erection, how his half-dressed state and the way he's pinned are turning him on.

Leonard's not sure if it's their thoughts, their arousal, that's working for him, or the sight of the two of them together, but something sure as hell is. He promises himself he won't unzip his pants until Jim's fully naked; that doesn't mean he can't press his palm over his own erection, rock his hips into it just a little.

When he turns his full attention back to the bed, Jim and Spock are kissing, Spock's hands roaming over Jim's chest – so different from Uhura, a momentary image of her naked under Spock that he tucks away, not better just different, yes, there – and Jim's on Spock's naked ass, squeezing – that's it, move a little, come on, yeah, like that, I hope Sulu's all right on the bridge, it's supposed to be quiet tonight, unless we run into, oh wait, go back, do that again, yes – and Leonard can't tell any longer what he's hearing out loud and what's just in their heads.

Though he really hopes Jim's keeping the work stuff to himself.

They don't go for anything fancy – fancy is the three of them, tangled together in a mess of limbs and mouths and dicks until they don't even know who's getting who off. Instead, Spock wrestles Jim's pants off, rolls him onto his stomach and, after almost cursory prep, pushes into him.

Leonard hears their groans like a rush of water over his head, in his mind and his ears, his own voice joining in because he can practically feel it, Spock's dick inside him, his own inside Jim, and it's so good, so much better than he could have ever imagined. He can barely feel his own hand over the way their bodies feel.

Spock fucks Jim hard and deep, his rhythm unfaltering. He's so aware of Jim, his thoughts a constant litany of checks and reassurances, a kind of calculated care that Leonard probably should have expected, but could never have expected to find as hot as he does. Jim, though – Jim's thoughts are a whirlwind, a tornado of desire and lust and arousal and Leonard's name, over and over, you feel this Bones, it's so good, does it feel like this when I'm inside you, does it feel better, would you ever let Spock do it, what's it like to watch, what's it like to know that you can hear us, every private thought, everything we want to keep from you, God, I want to, I wish it was like this all the time, so much better than trying to explain, so much easier, Bones, I –

And then Spock pulls him to his knees, reaches for his dick, their bodies moving in sync in the halflight of the room, and Jim's thoughts deteriorate into a long stream of yes, God, so good, right there, come on, let me let me let me, until he's coming and Leonard can't do anything but fuck his own fist and come with him.

Leonard jerks back into himself at Jim's gasp, Spock's moment of concern that he's caused hurt, but Jim's thoughts say don't stop don't stop, and Leonard says, "He's fine," his voice rough like he's been the one babbling his way through sex and an orgasm so good he still feels shaky with it.

He's still half-hard, Jim still broadcasting his thoughts as Spock fucks his sprawled open body. Leonard can't help the way he keeps jerking himself off, a little slick with his own come, a little painful because his body's not really ready for him to do this again just yet. He doesn't care. He watches Spock move, listens to the two of them, their overlapping thoughts as he twists his hand on his own dick, wrenching a second climax from himself just as Spock stiffens and stills and groans.


Leonard will never admit it out loud – not that he needs to, when the two of them know him so well – but his favourite part of sex is being curled between Spock and Jim, all three of them warm and worn and sated, falling asleep to the rhythm of their breathing.

It's even better with their dreams washing over his own thoughts. For something that's supposed to be a curse, it's proving surprisingly good.

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