Jun 15, 2020
@cowboyjimkirk @dammitmccoy This dash juxtaposition felt appropriate somehow
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@cowboyjimkirk @dammitmccoy This dash juxtaposition felt appropriate somehow
“I swear Chekov mentioned an exit on comms before they crapped out.” Jim said, whirling around the dead-end of the cave they found themselves in. Half for shelter from a acid rain storm and half because it offered a quick cut through the mountain to the best beam out point.
Jim really fucking hated caves. Nothing good happened to him when he was in them. He was half tempted to pull Bones back the way they came, traveling another route down another tunnel if it meant avoiding staying put for now.
“Let me look at that cut first.” Bones said, setting down his away kit on one of the rocks.
“Can’t. Gotta get this fixed.” Jim pried open the comm unit’s interface, using his teeth to rip it apart from his away suit.
“Hold still.” Bones said, waving his tri-corder before Jim could make a grab for it. It was the next thing to get tampered with if Jim couldn’t get this comm online.
“Will I live Bones?” Jim asked as he stared at the reading, too focused on the display.
“Apparently.” Bones huffed and slid it back into his pack.
“Chekov?” Jim tried the comm again. There wasn’t even static.
“Look, the storm’ll pass eventually. We’ll just wait it out.” Bones tugged off his away suit jacket and spread it on the rocky ground, a collection of rock dust mushrooming at the movement.
“You’re kinda calm for a guy stuck in a cave with, as you once put it, the number one enemy of all caves.”
“They’ve definitely got something against you.” Bones said frown creasing his face as he stared at the darkening walls, the fading light retreating as Bones tensed. He was probably remembering Jim’s last run in with a cave, when a technologically unhelpful delegation on a newly minted Federation planet had accidentally beamed him into a cave for three days. He’d nearly bled out after he fell into a crevasse, impaled in his shoulder. Bones had spent a week following Jim around with the tri-corder hovering inches from his back, monitoring for infection and parasites.
Jim sat down beside Bones, shoulder to shoulder. It was still too early to talk about their kiss from two weeks ago. When Jim finally got up the nerve to talk about what he overhead when he was waking up from the medically induced coma the med-team had put him in after the cave incident.
“Can’t keep doing this to me, kid. You’re all I’ve got left.”
And the softest touch of dry lips on his forehead, a lighter touch of a palm over his hair.
And so he cornered him after a round of rummy and a shared bottle of Romulan Ale. “You ever think we’d be good together?”
Bones sobered up too quick. “The hell you talking about?”
“I won’t insult your intelligence if you don’t insult mine. You have to know how i feel about you.”
“Jim...” Bones scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Come on, Bones.” Jim leaned over the table, his hands crushing the cards he spread out after he went down in the last round.
And as Bones searched his face, eyes flicking to his lips, Jim came closer and captured Bones mouth.
It was sloppy, sticky, perfect.
But they hadn’t talked about it since. Maybe now was the time.
“Well, shit.”
Jim looked up at the sparkling blue lights of the cave, bioluminescent and vibrant, even the shadows glowed at the edges. When Jim stood up, turning around to get a full look around him, he saw that there were ribbon fish-like creatures traveling up and down the cave walls.
“See, Bones.” Jim began to say, ready to comment on the beauty of the creatures (hopefully he wasn’t allergic to them). But then his best friend sucked in his breath and grabbed at his chin.
“Jesus, what?” Jim jerked back, prepared for a flesh eating bacteria or maybe one of the fish had flopped onto his head.
Bones sucked in a breath. “Your eyes.”
“My eyes?”
“They’re so fucking blue.”
And as Bones stared into Jim’s eyes, he blinked. But Bones put both palms on his cheeks, fingertips cool against his skin. Gooseflesh eruped down his neck and arms.
He shivered. “Bones....”
“I wish you could see how beautiful you are.”
Jim laughed, shrugging out of Bones grip. “Seriously?”
Bones tugged him closer, hand gripping his fingers. His eyes were wide as he took in Jim’s face, licking his lips in the same way that Jim imagined would lead to a night of gloriousness for both of them.
“Maybe the fish are doing something to you?”
Bones shook his head, made a small noise between a sigh and a mhhmm.
Jim instantly closed his eyes and Bones chuckled. “I’m not under the fish’s influence, you dumbass. The lights...they just remind me how brilliant you are.”
And in a cave, surrounded by bioluminescent fish, Jim and Bones shared their second kiss. It led to their fourth, fifth, sixth and eventually, around their fifteenth or so, they were rescued, beamed out in a swirl of light. Only a very relieved Scotty could attest to how they landed on the transporter padd and he’s not telling.
Not much to do in Riverside on a balmy summer evening than watch Jim Kirk try to hit Leonard McCoy’s fastball.
“Fucking hell.” Jim swore as McCoy took his sweet ass time at the pitcher’s mound. He stepped out and watched McCoy rub the back of his hand over his nose, sweat collecting on his brow.
His mom was in the bleachers, leaning forward with her forearms rested on her knees, wispy graying re hair framing her face as the sun set and the field lights popped on. His mom was here and he was going to strike out.
He saw McCoy’s eyes track Jim’s gaze and he nodded. Just a small, barely noticeable one.
Jim hit his first home run off the type of pitch that Leonard used to throw when they were kids in a cornfield and dreamed of playing on the same team and not as rivals.
A half hour later, drenched with gatorade and the echo of his mom’s “I’m so proud of you, baby,” he’s dragging his teeth across Bones’--only Bones when they’re alone--lower lip, hands cupping the back of his head, the short hairs at the back of his head, sweaty and damp.
“Why?” He finally asked, panting against Bones’ neck, laying kisses from behind his ear and down to the hollow of his clavicle. “Why not strike me out?”
There was no question whether or not Bones could. They had been the rivalry of their community colleges in two different parts of the state- even attracting the attention of the state papers and local news.
Bones exhaled lifted Jim’s face so that he could search his eyes, before finally pressing his own lips to his forehead. “Because you needed me not to.”
“You know, Bones, you could just let me stuff a bunch of things in boxes and we can spend our time doing other things in the bedroom.” Jim said from the closet.
Bones ducked as a shoe came flying at his head and landed in a pile of the unpaired.
“And have to share my clothes with you because you under packed? Not a chance.”
“But you like it when I share your clothes.” Jim said, meeting Bones eyes in the mirror as he held up a collection of belts.
“I like it when we don’t have to send the clothes to laundry every two days because you change more than a pubescent boy.” Bones grabbed a shirt thrown haphazardly onto the mile of Jim’s clothes. He moved it to the keep pile.
“You know that one has the stain in it, right?” Jim asked, as he tried on a cowboy hat Joanna had sent him for his birthday.
“That was the shirt you were wearing when we met.”
Jim wrinkled his nose at Bones. “You remember that?”
“‘Course. Make sure the leather jacket comes with us too.”
Jim snorted. “As you wish.”
“We’ll find an occasion for you to wear it. Trust me.” Bones smirked. “And the cowboy hat is coming too.”
Jim laughed and tossed it onto the keep pile. “Why don’t you get in here and just pick my civvies? Since you have such opinions.”
Bones did. Jim left good in everything, the asshole. But there were a few outfits that Bones couldn’t live in space without seeing Jim in. The outfit that he had worn on their first date, when they’d proposed to each other, the day he came home from the hospital after Khan, the soft and worn pair of jeans that rode just at his hips. The grey sweater that complimented his blue eyes. The white dress shirt he wore to diplomatic dinners and let Bones unbutton with his teeth. Bones was making sure it all came with them.
“Stay where you are. You gotta model some stuff for me. Gotta make sure it still fits.”
Jim pressed a kiss to the side of Bones chin as he walked by. “Only if you do the same.”
And Jim thought this packing was going to be a chore. Bones grinned and reached into the closet, finding the plaid flannel Jim usually wore in Iowa under a grey tank that showed ups his shoulders and the freckles that dusted them.
He handed it to Jim. “You first, darlin’."
Valentine's Prompt: Jim and Bones overhear somebody saying "You can't love somebody till you love yourself." Jim snorts and mutters, "Bullshit" before rushing out of the room. (drama ensues)
“Seriously, Abramson?” Bones glared at the lieutenant as his watched his husband exit the mess. So much for breakfast.
Abramson, who had been mansplaining love to two very bored looking engineers, looked perplexed. “Doc?”
“Do yourself a favor and report to Chapel later for a Valarian flu vaccine. You’re due.”
McCoy watched the man’s face heat up with satisfaction. Valarian flu vaccine required a plethora of STD tests for all sexually active crewmembers because it could kill anyone with even a dormant case. Abramson was likely going to have an awkward conversation later.
When he caught up with Jim, his husband was doing his best to blend in with the grey bulkhead near the private bank of turbolifts.
“Jim? You okay?”
Jim pinched his nose and blew out his breath. “You chew out Abramson?”
“Dude’s a dick. Can’t wait until that transfer gets approved.”
Jim nodded. “He was right, though.”
“That asshole isn’t right about anything.” Bones huffed a laugh. “And I’m sure he was quoting Rent.”
Jim didn’t rise to the change in subject. Bones could tell he was circling a mood and needed a distraction fast. Bones had a good idea involving a warm shower followed by cool sheets. No better way to spend the day off.
But Jim looked uneasy. Bones didn’t want to talk about it because the subject of self-love wasn’t the easiest one to broach when you had a complicated relationship with yourself in the first place. Neither Bones or Jim had the best true confidence, though his husband was always a cocky bastard. But it didn’t take multiple medical degrees to realize that it was a coping mechanism at best.
“Let’s not poke too hard at this, kay? Unless you wanna see if Grace has time to chat?”
Grace was the latest edition to the crew–a counselor specializing in everything from PTSD to marriage counseling. Bones didn’t know which one she thought they needed.
“No, I’m good.” Jim said and let Bones pull him in for a hug.
“Let’s go home, yeah?” Bones kissed behind Jim’s ear and tangled his fingers within Jim’s.
But the ship had other plans.
Before they could even reach the turbolift, the blaring of the red alert had them halting.
Bones saw Jim sag, eyes screwing shut as he took two deep breaths.
“Jim–”
But he straightened, squeezed Bones’ hand and grabbed his comm. “Spock, what do we got?”
“Unknown vessel on radar, Captain. It’s attempting to dock.”
Jim swore. “I’ll be right there.”
“I’ll see you later.”
“You better.” Bones said and watched Jim disappear into the lift, heading up to the bridge. Bones turned and headed back into the center of the ship, where the medbay was probably already in a flurry of activity, waiting for further orders.
***
“Leonard.”
Bones blinked and saw a rainbow. Or rather, as he blinked again, everything was tinged in bright colors. As if a everyone was surrounded by an orb of the ROYGBIV.
“Spock? What’s going on?”
“Jim and an engineering lieutenant have been abducted.”
“What?” Bones pushed up off the floor. He had been heading to the transporter room where Jim was about to–
“He was abducted or he went to meet the bastards?” Bones spit the question without needing his answer.
“I do not know. The entire situation is highly unusual.”
Bones blinked. “Highly unusual for us?”
“Indeed.”
“How’re their vital signs? And what engineering lieutenant?”
“They requested Lieutenant Abramson accompany the Captain.”
Bones swore and followed Spock down to the transporter room. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“No. I would not jest at a time like this, Leonard.”
Bones rolled his eyes. “So why do you look like you swallowed a rainbow.”
“An after effect of our contact with the Ars Cornu.”
“The hell’s that?”
“Unicorns.” Scotty breathed when they entered the room.
The entire transporter room looked like a grade-school girl’s dream, the air shimmered with color and…glitter?
“Unicorn dust.” Uhura said, shaking her head. “It’s everywhere.”
“I’m…lost. What the hell does this have to do with Jim and Abramson going missing.”
“The Ars Cornu are legendary space creatures. They encounter those in need and convince them of something that they’re unsure of. They’ve stopped wars mid-battle.” Chekov said, excitedly from where he was scraping some unicorn dust into a sample bag. “The Russians have written many tales about them.”
“Jim was abducted by unicorns.”
“Yes.”
“I’m getting too old for this shit.”
And he left to go monitor his husband’s vitals in peace, trying not to worry about what these so-called unicorns were doing to him.
***
Bones pulled Jim off the transporter pad. He shimmered a bit and Bones worried that maybe he wasn’t real, maybe he was an apparition and the Ars Cornu had done something to him, something Bones couldn’t fix–
But then Jim surged forward and kissed him like it was their first time and before long they were in their quarters, stripping like newlyweds, hands roaming and touching and causing goosebumps to rise as their lips skimmed naked skin.
“God, Jim–”
“I’m sorry, Bones. I’m sorry for not believing.”
“In unicorns?” Bones laughed and Jim nipped his neck.
“No. I love me because you love me. And I feel better just knowing you’re here and that you love me.”
Bones pulled away to search his husband’s face. It was the sappiest the other man had gotten in a while.
“You not high on unicorn dust?”
Jim’s lip twitched. “Maybe.” Jim’s hands slid down the sides of Bones’ waist, fingers dipping below the waistband of his boxers. “But I never want you to think you’re not enough, that I can’t love you because I sometimes don’t love myself.”
“Oh, darlin’,” Bones gasped as Jim’s ran a finger down his back, inches from his ass crack. “I–” His thoughts stuttered.
Jim smiled wickedly, understanding the sentiment. “I know. Thank you.”
Bones shifted so that he could push Jim on top of the bed, cradling Jim’s head as they fell together. He wondered briefly how he could thank the unicorns as he took in the sight of this man, the love of his life, but figured that was a question for a much later time.
In San Francisco, about a mile out from Starfleet there was a hill. It was almost like every other hill in San Francisco, except that this one was particularly twisty and particularly private (which is a certain Starship Captain and Chief Medical Officer bought up once dilapidated Victorian and redid it, before filling it with more kids than the house knew what to do with--and probably what the Captain and Doctor knew what to do with also). On that same twisty hill, there happened to be a Victorian, one that was usually hidden by various plants and trees. (This offered even more privacy, and created, for the much-loved inhabitants, a closed in happy chaos) In that once dilapidated, long suffering Victorian, was a Jim. But not just any Jim but a very important Jim--to his friends and family and the long suffering Doctor in the long suffering Victorian, especially. But on the particular morning that was not quite Summer and no longer Spring, Jim was not the Jim that his husband and six children knew him as. Because something was wrong. Very wrong. "Holy fuck." Maddy said around a yawn, that might have been a quiet scream. "Dad's like, our age."
“Language,” Joanna said, but didn’t really mean it. Leonard McCoy, Bones to his husband, Papa to his kids, Doctor and exasperated spouse, stood between the threshold to his bedroom and the hallway, keeping his six children from seeing their dad-but-no-longer-the-dad-they-knew in nothing but his boxers on, the threadbare Starfleet shirt he stole back from Jo and mismatched socks. He had a headache from whatever he drank last night and a hatred for his past self--who turned down the offer to let the brood stay Scotty and Jaylah (who were roommates, nothing more, he'd assured Davie and Chrissy who kept making googly eyes at the pair). "Is Daddy going to be okay?" Abby said around a thumb--a habit that was usually saved for late night cuddles and the moments after loud noises. "Alrighty, who wants pancakes? Let's go make pancakes!" Jo, firstborn, miracle of miracles, swept Abby up, pulled on Maddy's shirt and nudged Davie's butt with her toes. Chrissy made a face, swinging under Jo's other arm and poked her head through Bones' unprotected side. "Whoaaaa," she said, as George, bleary eyed and stumbling dragged his little sister back. "Who the fuck are you?" Jim spit back. Fuck, it was going to be a long morning. ~*~
hello!!! I adore your work! if you’re still doing the emotion/character/palette challenge, how about bones determined 14?
@dammitmccoy, here’s some Bones channeling some righteous fury as he storms the gates of life and death.
[ Image description: a landscape digital drawing of a side profile of Bones Mccoy looking fiercely determined at a point off the edge of the drawing. He’s fighting against four disembodied hands that are trying to stop him by tugging or clawing at his front. In the background is a halo around Bones’ head with the next two concentric arcs in the shape of wings. End ID. ]
one of my best college friends just told me she’s fallen into the mckirk fandom and won’t get up and i have never been prouder.
let’s give @wizzardblizzard a big warm mckirk welcome!