Chapter Text
─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“Now, as most of you are aware, there was a point in our planet’s history where our population had dwindled down to a mere 8,000. Not due to drought, nor plague,” their tour guide spoke as they reached the top of the winding staircase, “Not even war, but because, to put it plainly, our people stopped having children. Whether the mass infertility was initially intentional or not has been long debated, but truthfully, we may never have the answer. What we do know,” he stopped the group in front of a large, ornate temple, “Is that our saving grace resides just beyond these doors. During the construction of this temple, what we now call The Fountain of Life was unearthed. Archaeologists have estimated that it had been buried for up to two thousand years before its discovery, putting its total estimated age at around five thousand years.”
“The Head Priestess decided to restore the fountain and continue to construct the temple around it, believing it was destiny that their temple should share ground with this artifact,” he continued, “Once it was open to the public, one woman came to pray. She prayed for one simple thing…A baby,” he paused so the group could murmur their awes, pitying this long-deceased woman. “Yes, that’s right. In a society nearing extinction, this woman prayed for a baby. As she went to leave, she knelt by the fountain. Knowing the long trek she had ahead of her, she drank from the crystal clear waters. Her prayers were answered, and she gave birth to a healthy baby the following spring.”
“When she told her community how she did it, people flocked from all around to pray and drink at this temple, from the fountain just inside these doors. Even today, couples from across the galaxy come baring their hearts, and leave bearing a child. The fountain does not discriminate, so heed my next words: Anyone that drinks from the fountain will soon find themselves in a state of extreme fertility. Consider this both a promise and a warning, should you choose to indulge. Now,” He clapped his hands, “Once we are inside the temple, out of respect for those worshiping, we ask that you do not speak again until we’ve left. If you’ll follow me…”
Jim, Spock, and McCoy lingered in the back of the group, watching as the rest made their way through the doors. “What a load of malarkey,” McCoy whispered to the two, “If a cure for infertility could genuinely be found inside that fountain, we would have already broken the water down to its very last molecule and found some way to stick it in a hypo.”
“Oh, come now, Bones,” Jim said, slapping him on the back, “If you can’t appreciate the mythology, you could at least appreciate the history.”
“I am inclined to agree with Leonard in this instance. As fascinating as it is that their dire circumstances happened to come to an end after the fountain became active, I believe it is nothing more than correlation, rather than causation.”
“See? Even Spock thinks I’m right.”
“I did not precisely say-”
“Alright, alright,” He turned to them a few outside the temple doors. “If you don’t believe in it…Why don’t you take a sip yourself?” Jim asked as he looked at McCoy with daring eyes.
Stubbornly, McCoy pouted his lower lip. “Well, maybe I should!”
The tour guide seemed to overhear their conversation, and he stopped them just short of the entryway. “Gentlemen, I remind you- The Fountain of Life does not discriminate. Not by faith, nor race or sex.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jim acknowledged, walking past him and through the doors. The other two nodded politely, following close behind.
They walked through a short hall to the rotunda. The only sound in the building was the shuffling of footsteps and gently cascading water getting louder as they drew near.
Five niches were carved out of the walls, each one housing ancient sculptures of women. The sculptor had paid immaculate attention to every detail; the drapes they wore appeared thin, their pert nipples visible through their marble clothes. Each of the women’s hair were depicted in plaits, piled atop of their heads. They were all posed in unique ways, and each holding a different item. To the left, one held a large harp-like instrument, her hands frozen on the strings as though she was still playing. A massive water vessel, tall and slender with a chipped spout hovered an inch from the ground, a hand grasped tightly on one of the handles. She might have been setting it down, or just picking it up. On the right, the woman’s head was held high, her chin jut out defiantly, a sword held with the point to the ground in one hand, and shield covering her with the other. The other held a sturdy hard-cover book in her hands, a solemn expression upon her face and her head turned to the audience, frozen in time as she spoke to a large crowd. Directly across from them, in the fifth niche, a woman with her shoulders reared back and chest out cupped a tree sapling in soft, stone hands in front of her navel.
The fountain centered in the room stood only two feet above the ground, though it looked like it could be three or four feet deeper. A column in the center drew the water up to a scalloped bowl, overfilling the vessel and spilling over the sides. McCoy's fingertips trailed along the marble edge of the fountain. The care taken in its restoration and maintenance was evident, as the cracks from age were hardly visible. The water inside the basin was crystal clear; so much so that he could hardly believe the water came from a natural source. It was mesmerizing, the way the water swirled, barely visible ripples slow on the surface. It seemed to beckon him to drink.
He looked behind him to Spock, who seemed more interested in the delicate foreign lettering scripted on the side than the water. He looked forward to Jim, who was already staring at him with a curious smile.
He lowered his hand to the surface. He traced the water with the tips of his fingers. It was cold, colder than he expected it to be in the sweltering room. He suddenly found himself quite parched. He looked back at Jim. He had this almost hungry look in his eyes, only encouraging him further. He had gotten Spock's attention, as well, his heated gaze watching McCoy's every movement.
All around him, other members of their group were kneeling in front of the fountain for their blessing. McCoy sunk slowly to his knees. With both hands, he cupped the cold water and brought it to his lips. He hesitated, only for a moment, watching as it began to drip through his fingers, then drank like it was the last drop of water in a scaling desert.
The flavorless cold water refreshed him in a way he had never experienced before, like a burst of energy hit his core. It rippled through him in waves, tingling his fingers and toes, sending a shiver down his spine. He exhaled in quiet disbelief, staring at his still-cupped hands. He blinked slowly, the energy quickly turning into a sluggish calm. The thought of germs and contamination from ages of water shared in this way briefly crossed his mind as he rose to his feet. Jim and Spock were looking at him expectantly. He dried his hands on his pants and shrugged nonchalantly.
The three filed outside, rejoining the members of their tour group who had finished with the fountain. “So, Bones? What happened?”
“Nothing, as far as I can tell,” McCoy replied, beginning to feel his energy return to his normal state, “There may be some compound in the water that causes an automatic calming physiological response. Without knowing the source of the spring or possible contaminants, it’s hard to tell.”
“So something did happen, you mean to say,” Jim prodded.
“The water might have psychoactive toxins in it. If you had allowed me to bring my tricorder, I could have…” Spock started to accuse.
“We’re on shore leave!” Jim interrupted, “It isn’t necessary to bring your tricorder everywhere we go! They said the fountain was safe, it’s safe. Everyone that drank from it is completely fine, see?”
That, neither could argue. Nearly everyone had regrouped, and their guide was just waiting for the last stragglers before they could move to the next historical site.
“Alright, Jim. I’m sorry,” McCoy conceded, “What’s our next stop? You still have the map?”
As they enjoyed the rest of the historical sites, the memory of the fountain faded to the far back of McCoy’s mind, becoming nothing more than a distant thought. They had dinner at a local restaurant with the rest of the tour group, indulging in decadent food and drink. At the end of the night, they found themselves drawn to a small pond near their hotel. It was quiet, serene. A perfect place to relax and wind down, since they weren’t quite ready to turn in yet.
Jim skipped rocks as the sunset shimmered on the pond’s surface. Spock and McCoy were sitting on a bench only six feet behind him, sharing a bag of dehydrated fruits. “It’s completely possible the simple act of displacing these rocks could disturb the local ecosystem both on land and in the water. I find it entirely distasteful.”
“Hear that, Jim? You’d better cut it out, Spock thinks you’re going to hit a fishie.”
“That is not-”
Jim smiled to himself, enjoying their bickering. He inspected the perfectly smooth, flat, round stone in his hand. It slipped past his fingers and bounced five times across the water. As he watched the little ripples, he felt warm hands sneak around his midsection. He tilted his head to give his lover access to his neck. He sighed and leaned in to the little nibbles being placed up the sensitive flesh.
“You know,” McCoy muttered in his ear, “It’s an awfully private beach. Only the three of us. It’d be a terrible shame to waste our last sunset here…”
He hummed. The reds and purples decorating the sky and the vivid orange sinking sun sparkling on the still water, along with the rising double moons, certainly would move even the least romantic of hearts. The passing thought was affirmed by Spock’s appearance on the other side of him, taking him by the hand and entwining their fingers. “You might be right. Spock?”
Spock rubbed his thumb in a small circle against the back of Jim’s hand, “I happen to agree.”
“Any…particular suggestions, gentlemen?” He had to fight the arousal from seeping into his tone, ignoring how quickly his pants were beginning to tighten. He lied, “I’m not entirely convinced the evening could get better than this.”
McCoy nipped his sensitive skin again, “I have a number of ideas, but I believe Spock had something special in mind.”
“Oh?”
Spock pressed his lips to Jim’s ear, “I would like to watch as you penetrate Leonard. Then, I would like to feel your ejaculate on my lok as I penetrate him.”
He shivered, and McCoy whispered in his other ear, “I already prepared myself. In the bathroom, after dinner. Say the word, and I’m ready for you.”
“Oh, God, Bones…” He groaned, dropping his head backwards into McCoy’s shoulder. The pressure in his pants was becoming borderline overwhelming. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes.”
McCoy placed a long kiss behind his ear, taking a second to suck on the lobe. He circled around as he undid his jeans, saying, “We ought to be quick. It’ll be dark soon.”
Jim eyed him hungrily, “Won’t be a problem, honey.” McCoy chuckled and lowered his pants down to his thighs. Jim unzipped his pants, pulling the front down just enough to expose his erection to the night’s air. He grabbed McCoy by the hips and pulled him close, stepping forward at the same time. McCoy bent over, shooting him a sly ‘come and get me’ smile over his shoulder. He spread McCoy’s cheeks and pressed a thumb against his hole. It slipped in easily, and a small bit of slippery lubricant trickled out. “I told you, I’m ready,” McCoy said impatiently with a wiggle of his hips.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he said breathlessly. He lined himself up and gently pressed his tip against the hole. It gave way easily, and he began to slip in. He moaned, the tight, wet, and hot hole feeling perfect on him. He bottomed out and thrust shallowly. “God, there’s absolutely no way I’m going to last,” he warned.
McCoy moaned and pushed back against him, “Don’t even try. Just fuck me, take me!”
He sucked in a breath and shivered again. He pulled nearly all the way out, then thrust hard in. “Oh!” McCoy yelped, “Yes! Like that! Just like that!” Encouraged, he began to fuck him in earnest, snapping his hips hard and fast. He gripped McCoy’s hips with all his might, knowing there would be a good chance he’d leave bruises for him to run a dermal over in the morning. Either that, or he’d keep them as souvenirs. He moaned at the thought of McCoy hiding them, keeping his under shirt tucked, the only people knowing about them at all being Spock and himself.
He hadn’t been lying; he fucked McCoy at a steady pace for only five minutes before his thrusts became erratic, moaning and grunting almost animalistically as pressure built in his abdomen, chasing his release. “I’m not going to last much longer,” he grunted, “You’re so good. You’re too good. I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum in you.”
“Yes!” McCoy panted, pushing back against him, “Cum in me! Jim, oh, Jim!” McCoy’s hole tightened around him, and he was coming with a shout, flooding him with his release. He rocked slowly, riding out the aftershocks and running his hand down McCoy’s back. Finally, he pulled out and stepped aside.
Spock’s eyes were blown, looking at the pair of them like a wolf on the prowl. He wasted no time unbuckling his belt and shoving his pants to his thighs, making no ceremony about it, and taking Jim’s place. His lok was already extended and he didn’t hesitate to push in, eager to feel the warm fluid on him. McCoy cried out as Spock slammed into his prostate, immediately taking up the same pace Jim had been going. McCoy had been so close, so incredibly close before Jim had come, and Spock quickly brought him back to the brink. Spock squeezed his cheeks, pulling them apart just enough to watch as each thrust forced more of his own natural lubricant in and more of Jim’s cum out.
McCoy’s moans became rhythmic, crying out with each thrust. The pulsing around his lok told Spock that he was rapidly approaching his orgasm. He snaked his hand beneath McCoy, taking his swollen, neglected cock in hand and pumping it, two, three times before he felt him tighten around his lok, spilling into his hand with a shout. He followed not long after, feeling intoxicated on his lovers’ pleasure. When he withdrew, a beautiful trickle of their combined fluids gushed freely from McCoy’s hole. It was nearly enough to arouse each of them again.
“That was…amazing,” Jim breathlessly remarked, “I should’ve taken a vid.”
McCoy blushed and looked away. “I didn’t prepare for the cleanup,” he said, shimmying his pants back up. It was nearly a complaint, but not quite. “Frankly, I’m a bit surprised you went for it, Jim.”
“It was an offer I simply couldn’t refuse,” Jim grabbed him by the chin and kissed him, “We ought to head back to the hotel, anyway. Like you said, it’s our last night here. We ought to make the most of it-who knows when we’ll have another good night’s rest?”
─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───