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The 'Stick More Close' Duology (Star Trek XI, PG-13)
Two commentfics for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
jim_and_bones.
Title: World Against You
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Captain Jim Kirk/CMO Leonard McCoy
Summary: "We're going back to the council chamber, and you're heading back to the Enterprise without me."
Content Advisory: Slash, drama, cussin'.
Acknowledgements:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thistlerose for her gorgeous request, "McCoy and Kirk as Damon and Pythias respectively, i.e. with McCoy taking Kirk's place. Not AU." and jim_and_bones for giving me a place to write this.
Disclaimer: This fanwork has been created for pleasure only and not for profit.
Titles from "The Thousandth Man" by Kipling.
Jim smiles and bows to the Justiciars and their attendants, making pretty excuses and shoving Bones behind him all the way into the first small room off the main chamber, which turns out to be a lavatory lit by a window onto the mockingly green and peaceful Ministry gardens. He only lets go of Bones's shoulders to wedge the door shut, then crosses the tiny room to glance down the wall; it's a substantial drop, and all the trees are thin papery-barked things that remind him of birches, with spindly branches that probably won't work for climbing. "Bones, what do you think?" he asks speculatively, trying to wedge a fingernail into the edge of the window glazing to see what it needs to pry open. "Looks like about twenty-five meters, think we can go down the outside wall?"
"We're not going out the window," Bones says, calmly. He's always lively, always animated, always ranting, but now he's calm. Jim turns to him and his eyes are shining green, shot with gold in the light from outside. "We're going back to the council chamber, and you're heading back to the Enterprise without me."
"No," Jim says with all the vehemence he couldn't show while smiling at those Sadoran idiots, spreading his empty hands and trying to defuse the situation. "No, I'm not leaving you here, and that's final. Even she can't reach Taranak VI and return in their standard day--"
"Sunlight's burning, Jim," Bones says placidly, a soft little smile curving his cheek. "The sooner the Enterprise gets her captain back the sooner you can go get the proof to show the Sadorans that the Romulans are playing them for fools."
"Which is why we should be climbing down that wall already! If we can get outside the jammer's range, maybe only two or three klicks, we can--" Bones interrupts Jim's plan with a little growl that makes him tingle deep down, despite or maybe enhanced by the adrenaline pumping through his system, and by grabbing him and slamming him up against the wall, one strong arm looping around Jim's back and the other clever hand splayed over the side of his head as Bones crushes their mouths together. Jim grips his waist and kisses back desperately, clutching Bones as Bones presses that solid frame against him, those tender lips against his, prickles of stubble amidst the slide of cheek on cheek. He moans around the thrust of Bones' tongue, everything there's no time to say, trying to absorb the feel of every millimeter of him from his eyelashes brushing Jim's face to the bright dents of his teeth, from the tight grip of each finger to the press of chest against breathing chest and thigh between hard thighs.
As abruptly as he'd kissed Jim, Bones wrenches away, gently restraining Jim when he leans in to follow. "They'll come looking for us," he warns, eyes closed, softtly resting their foreheads together. "Can't give 'em a free show." His voice is roughened, even if still low, and Jim can't keep his hand away from where his mouth wants to be, can't resist reaching up to cup Bones's cheek and thumb his tender lower lip.
"Stay alive," he murmurs, command voice over the trembling in his chest, with Bones alive and breathing and pressed to him, and not for the last time, he swears. "Don't let them execute you. Tell them you'll cure all their STIs, make them live forever, whatever it takes." Bones smiles a little, tilting his face into Jim's hand to kiss the heel of his thumb. "Stay alive until I can come back for you, Dr. McCoy. That's an order."
"Yes, Sir, Captain Kirk," Bones murmurs into Jim's hand, looking up with eyes green and gold as the garden outside. Jim wants another thousand kisses, wants to smash the window open and cajole Bones down that wall, wants to threaten the Sadorans until they agree to let Bones go. He shifts his hand to Bones' shoulder and pushes gently with every gram of his will, and Bones steps back, letting go of him.
"Jim," Bones says, the first quaver in his voice Jim's heard since today's shitstorm began, "tell Joanna --"
"No." This time, Bones shuts up and listens, backlit from the window, eyes still bright in shadow. "You're going to tell her hi, after we get you safely back aboard ship. Now let's do this," Jim finishes, and kicks the wedge from the door.
Title: World Don't Matter
Summary: For the rest of his life, Leonard intends to swear he never worried.
Rest of Headers: Same as above.
For the rest of his life, Leonard intends to swear he never worried. "Captain Kirk will be back with your evidence," he tells the Justiciars, who merely nod as their impassive, polymer-helmeted guards grip his arms and hustle him from the council chamber. He grits his teeth and goes quietly, no point to making a scene, as they march him down a long hall and into a little gray cell. It's reasonable quarters, bench and latrine, blankets and other civilized amenities, except for water and food pellet dispensers welded to the wall like a goddamn hamster cage. For form's sake Leonard taps on the walls the way they trained him at the Academy, telling himself with every solid thud that Jim can pull this off, and settles down to wait.
He's still working on not worrying when they come get him and say it's been "Thirty-six thousand, two hundred eighty seconds by your measure," as the presiding Justiciar booms, the others nodding like flowers in a breeze. "Half a planetary day. When the other half has elapsed, McCoy of the Federation, your sentence will be executed."
Struggling to ignore the chill running down his spine, Leonard insists, "The Captain will have returned by then," though he has no idea how Jim will do it. He just has to believe Jim will.
On the way back to the cell he does try, "I can cure just about anything if I get my kit back," but the guards in their shiny translucent helmets keep right on ignoring him.
When the door seals shut with an airless whumph, Leonard stretches out on his back, hands behind his head, and stares at the gray ceiling until he can all but see memories flicker across it like a holoscreen. He envisions Joanna, tall and coltish, daisies tucked into her braids, and Jocelyn's genuine smile, his mother's gentle eyes and her seamed palm pressed to the vidscreen. He thinks about the softly pink-tinted layers of the nebula they flew through on their last mission, his first gleaming sight of the Enterprise, and the first time he sat down, freaking out aboard a shuttle, beside a knocked-about blue-eyed kid named Jim Kirk.
Leonard thinks about Jim, by day, by night, his angry mouth and bottomless eyes when the Sadorans demanded a hostage, his exultant smile when he brought Pike back from the Narada, a hundred moments aboard ship, a thousand from the Academy. Leonard thinks about Jim until he falls asleep dreaming of him, the firm warmth of his body and the taste of his mouth and always those bright blue eyes.
He wakes up to guards dragging him from his bunk. "Wait just a damn minute," he mumbles, shaking his head and blinking muzzily, jerking back against their hard hands pressing plastic restraints around his wrists. He could use a shave, a wash, and a chance to piss, not necessarily in that order, but he gets none of them, just hauled along that featureless corridor again.
Panic slams into the back of Leonard's head, fizzing down his bloodstream, stiffening his muscles. His time's up, he'll never see Earth or Joanna or the Enterprise again and Jim's not here and --
--and the doors open on a familiar, tenor, oh so fucking welcome voice saying smoothly, "Absolutely, your Eminences." As he's led through, the guards holding him back as hard as they lugged him before, Leonard glances around wildly and finds Jim standing at a lectern, facing the Justiciars and looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Leonard feels his face stretch in a grin -- Jim made it back, for him -- and only just manages to keep from shouting. Jim stands still, neck straight and shoulders squared, his profile calm and elegant, and Leonard's heart skips the proverbial beat; quick as the space between heartbeats, Jim flicks that blue gaze over at Leonard, who winks in answer as his heart bangs against his ribs like a demented dove.
Leonard watches Jim wait, his precise posture and careful breaths and his beautiful long fingers clamped bloodlessly tight on the lectern's edge, as they haul him over to a seat beside a kid with a loose tumble of tendrils and an electronic slate in his-or-her hands. The cuffs lock into a recess under the table in front of him, but they don't pinch and his fingers aren't tingling so Leonard just concentrates on Jim. "You may proceed, Kirk of the Federation," says the presiding Justiciar, and Jim smiles, toothy and bright, and does.
"You sent me for proof, your Eminences, and my crew retrieved it. I'm going to bring out three weapons, one at a time. Let me remind you, I am alone --" no you're not, Leonard thinks on a surge of fifty different feelings -- "and I give you my word I won't fire any of them." At the Justiciar's nod he reaches under the lectern and lifts out two phasers, then unholsters his and puts it down beside its seeming triplets.
"These all appear to be Federation phasers. These two were retrieved from Taranak VI. Analysis will show they're impregnated with planetside dust -- Taranak VI's particular rich in mu-isotope gallium compounds -- and their surfaces have UV hazing from Taranak itself. Wait," he says as a guard steps forward, dipping his voice to a commanding near-rumble, "this third is my own personal sidearm, and has never been on Taranak VI or under its star's light. Furthermore --" Jim picks up the first phaser, nonchalant as five guards aim at him and Leonard jerks against the cuffs before he can halt the reflexive lurch, and twists it in a motion Leonard's never seen used to disassemble phasers.
The weapon opens, and what can be seen inside glints metallic green, entirely unlike a phaser's guts at all. "This," Jim announces, his voice ringing off every corner and edge of the room, "is a Romulan disruptor built to look like a Federation phaser. Take mine to compare -- they're entirely different weapons, down to the isotope balances of the alloys used. Yeah, come on, now," he adds to the guard hovering nearby, a tinge of sass creeping into his tone, "now I'm done. You can have them."
The Justiciars murmur amongst themselves. Jim looks straight forward, and Leonard's pulse beats a worried drumbeat in his ears; waiting, hoping, he wills his racing heart to slow without one smidge of success. Is it enough? What are they waiting for? Hopefully not the Romulans.
At length the presiding Justiciar turns to Jim. "Thank you, Kirk of the Federation. This is extremely compelling, though we will require a wider range of evidence to make a final decision."
"Fine, fine," Jim answers, "excellent, Your Eminences. We can discuss the matter further once my officer has been released." He stares forward, eyes searing as lasers, holding the Justiciar's full attention. "I fulfilled my end of the deal. Fulfill yours."
There's a frozen moment when the whole room seems to stop, when Leonard doesn't dare breathe. Then the Justiciars nod, all of them in a rippling line, and the guards unlock Leonard from his desk and pull the cuffs off him as they lift him to his feet. He shoulders them off, maybe a little rougher than absolutely necessary, and strides across the room as Jim jogs down the lectern steps like he'd rather jump.
He probably would, crazy kid. They meet in the middle, a crackling centimeter of space between them. "You all right, Dr. McCoy?" Jim gives Leonard's shoulder one brief, warm, living squeeze, yanking his hand away before either of them can give in and keep it there.
"I'm keeping fine, Captain," Leonard answers, dazzled by Jim's smile, winded by relief, his hands free and empty at his sides.
Jim nods, looking over Leonard's head at the Justiciars. "Your Eminences, Sadoran people, thank you. See you around."
"We have not yet granted you permission to depart," answers the presiding Justiciar, but Jim just speaks over him into his comm, "Computer, execute Lift Pattern A, Captain's authorization delta-niner-two-zeta-beta."
Leonard's never been happier to feel the sickening lurch of dematerialization. He arrives in a shuttlecraft, between the console and the seats, which is all he sees before all he sees is Jim's flaring grin and then the red-dark inside of his eyelids as they lunge for each other, grabbing hold and squeezing tight and trying to climb into each other via a mutually devouring kiss. All Leonard can think, pounding in his temples, is I might never have seen you again, and all he can do is pull Jim tight up against him, tighter than the goodbye kiss in the Sadoran washroom, and smooch him a warm hello down to his tonsils.
Eventually, much too soon, the airless ache in his chest ramps up insistently and Jim pushes back on a gasping, inhaled laugh. "Bones," he says rapturously, arms wound around Leonard's ribcage, hands messing up his hair. "God, Bones."
"You made it," Leonard gasps stupidly, "you made it back."
"You bet I did." This close Leonard can see everything he couldn't before, the fine lines around Jim's eyes and the dark smudges beneath them, and when Jim's hand slides across his cheek he kisses the heel. Jim grins even wider, then abruptly pushes away. "And we're not gone yet. The Enterprise's still six hours away and I am done with this star system."
"The Enterprise?" Leonard stumbles backwards towards a seat, unable to tear his eyes from Jim, who's buckling into the pilot's station. "Where--"
"I sent her to Taranak VI, had Scotty beam me a couple souveniers. I holed up in Sador V's gas clouds meanwhile, thinking over that comm jammer." Jim's fingers flick and tap in the motions of flight, and Leonard feels the shuttle wheel around though the space-black view doesn't change. "It's a little pathetic how easy the hack was. Anyway, buckle up, Bones, we've got some flying to do before we're home free and I can nail your ass on the floor."
"Just concentrate on your flying, Captain Itchy Britches," Leonard answers with a great big sappy smile for the back of Jim's tawny head. "Maybe if you're really good I'll fuck you till your big brain melts."
Jim laughs, gunning it so hard the acceleration overwhelms the inertial dampeners and flattens Leonard into his seat. "How come you get to top, then, dis-dressed damsel?"
Because you just saved an ally for the Federation and me from dying on some random planet, because you're brilliant and I love you more than I can stand, Leonard doesn't say. Instead he drawls, "Because while you were putting together your show and tell, I had nothing to do but sit around and think about you, naked."
Jim laughs so brightly Leonard can just picture the shining wake they must be trailing, like an aurora across the Sadoran sky.
jim_and_bones.Title: World Against You
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Captain Jim Kirk/CMO Leonard McCoy
Summary: "We're going back to the council chamber, and you're heading back to the Enterprise without me."
Content Advisory: Slash, drama, cussin'.
Acknowledgements:
thistlerose for her gorgeous request, "McCoy and Kirk as Damon and Pythias respectively, i.e. with McCoy taking Kirk's place. Not AU." and jim_and_bones for giving me a place to write this.Disclaimer: This fanwork has been created for pleasure only and not for profit.
Titles from "The Thousandth Man" by Kipling.
Jim smiles and bows to the Justiciars and their attendants, making pretty excuses and shoving Bones behind him all the way into the first small room off the main chamber, which turns out to be a lavatory lit by a window onto the mockingly green and peaceful Ministry gardens. He only lets go of Bones's shoulders to wedge the door shut, then crosses the tiny room to glance down the wall; it's a substantial drop, and all the trees are thin papery-barked things that remind him of birches, with spindly branches that probably won't work for climbing. "Bones, what do you think?" he asks speculatively, trying to wedge a fingernail into the edge of the window glazing to see what it needs to pry open. "Looks like about twenty-five meters, think we can go down the outside wall?"
"We're not going out the window," Bones says, calmly. He's always lively, always animated, always ranting, but now he's calm. Jim turns to him and his eyes are shining green, shot with gold in the light from outside. "We're going back to the council chamber, and you're heading back to the Enterprise without me."
"No," Jim says with all the vehemence he couldn't show while smiling at those Sadoran idiots, spreading his empty hands and trying to defuse the situation. "No, I'm not leaving you here, and that's final. Even she can't reach Taranak VI and return in their standard day--"
"Sunlight's burning, Jim," Bones says placidly, a soft little smile curving his cheek. "The sooner the Enterprise gets her captain back the sooner you can go get the proof to show the Sadorans that the Romulans are playing them for fools."
"Which is why we should be climbing down that wall already! If we can get outside the jammer's range, maybe only two or three klicks, we can--" Bones interrupts Jim's plan with a little growl that makes him tingle deep down, despite or maybe enhanced by the adrenaline pumping through his system, and by grabbing him and slamming him up against the wall, one strong arm looping around Jim's back and the other clever hand splayed over the side of his head as Bones crushes their mouths together. Jim grips his waist and kisses back desperately, clutching Bones as Bones presses that solid frame against him, those tender lips against his, prickles of stubble amidst the slide of cheek on cheek. He moans around the thrust of Bones' tongue, everything there's no time to say, trying to absorb the feel of every millimeter of him from his eyelashes brushing Jim's face to the bright dents of his teeth, from the tight grip of each finger to the press of chest against breathing chest and thigh between hard thighs.
As abruptly as he'd kissed Jim, Bones wrenches away, gently restraining Jim when he leans in to follow. "They'll come looking for us," he warns, eyes closed, softtly resting their foreheads together. "Can't give 'em a free show." His voice is roughened, even if still low, and Jim can't keep his hand away from where his mouth wants to be, can't resist reaching up to cup Bones's cheek and thumb his tender lower lip.
"Stay alive," he murmurs, command voice over the trembling in his chest, with Bones alive and breathing and pressed to him, and not for the last time, he swears. "Don't let them execute you. Tell them you'll cure all their STIs, make them live forever, whatever it takes." Bones smiles a little, tilting his face into Jim's hand to kiss the heel of his thumb. "Stay alive until I can come back for you, Dr. McCoy. That's an order."
"Yes, Sir, Captain Kirk," Bones murmurs into Jim's hand, looking up with eyes green and gold as the garden outside. Jim wants another thousand kisses, wants to smash the window open and cajole Bones down that wall, wants to threaten the Sadorans until they agree to let Bones go. He shifts his hand to Bones' shoulder and pushes gently with every gram of his will, and Bones steps back, letting go of him.
"Jim," Bones says, the first quaver in his voice Jim's heard since today's shitstorm began, "tell Joanna --"
"No." This time, Bones shuts up and listens, backlit from the window, eyes still bright in shadow. "You're going to tell her hi, after we get you safely back aboard ship. Now let's do this," Jim finishes, and kicks the wedge from the door.
Title: World Don't Matter
Summary: For the rest of his life, Leonard intends to swear he never worried.
Rest of Headers: Same as above.
For the rest of his life, Leonard intends to swear he never worried. "Captain Kirk will be back with your evidence," he tells the Justiciars, who merely nod as their impassive, polymer-helmeted guards grip his arms and hustle him from the council chamber. He grits his teeth and goes quietly, no point to making a scene, as they march him down a long hall and into a little gray cell. It's reasonable quarters, bench and latrine, blankets and other civilized amenities, except for water and food pellet dispensers welded to the wall like a goddamn hamster cage. For form's sake Leonard taps on the walls the way they trained him at the Academy, telling himself with every solid thud that Jim can pull this off, and settles down to wait.
He's still working on not worrying when they come get him and say it's been "Thirty-six thousand, two hundred eighty seconds by your measure," as the presiding Justiciar booms, the others nodding like flowers in a breeze. "Half a planetary day. When the other half has elapsed, McCoy of the Federation, your sentence will be executed."
Struggling to ignore the chill running down his spine, Leonard insists, "The Captain will have returned by then," though he has no idea how Jim will do it. He just has to believe Jim will.
On the way back to the cell he does try, "I can cure just about anything if I get my kit back," but the guards in their shiny translucent helmets keep right on ignoring him.
When the door seals shut with an airless whumph, Leonard stretches out on his back, hands behind his head, and stares at the gray ceiling until he can all but see memories flicker across it like a holoscreen. He envisions Joanna, tall and coltish, daisies tucked into her braids, and Jocelyn's genuine smile, his mother's gentle eyes and her seamed palm pressed to the vidscreen. He thinks about the softly pink-tinted layers of the nebula they flew through on their last mission, his first gleaming sight of the Enterprise, and the first time he sat down, freaking out aboard a shuttle, beside a knocked-about blue-eyed kid named Jim Kirk.
Leonard thinks about Jim, by day, by night, his angry mouth and bottomless eyes when the Sadorans demanded a hostage, his exultant smile when he brought Pike back from the Narada, a hundred moments aboard ship, a thousand from the Academy. Leonard thinks about Jim until he falls asleep dreaming of him, the firm warmth of his body and the taste of his mouth and always those bright blue eyes.
He wakes up to guards dragging him from his bunk. "Wait just a damn minute," he mumbles, shaking his head and blinking muzzily, jerking back against their hard hands pressing plastic restraints around his wrists. He could use a shave, a wash, and a chance to piss, not necessarily in that order, but he gets none of them, just hauled along that featureless corridor again.
Panic slams into the back of Leonard's head, fizzing down his bloodstream, stiffening his muscles. His time's up, he'll never see Earth or Joanna or the Enterprise again and Jim's not here and --
--and the doors open on a familiar, tenor, oh so fucking welcome voice saying smoothly, "Absolutely, your Eminences." As he's led through, the guards holding him back as hard as they lugged him before, Leonard glances around wildly and finds Jim standing at a lectern, facing the Justiciars and looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Leonard feels his face stretch in a grin -- Jim made it back, for him -- and only just manages to keep from shouting. Jim stands still, neck straight and shoulders squared, his profile calm and elegant, and Leonard's heart skips the proverbial beat; quick as the space between heartbeats, Jim flicks that blue gaze over at Leonard, who winks in answer as his heart bangs against his ribs like a demented dove.
Leonard watches Jim wait, his precise posture and careful breaths and his beautiful long fingers clamped bloodlessly tight on the lectern's edge, as they haul him over to a seat beside a kid with a loose tumble of tendrils and an electronic slate in his-or-her hands. The cuffs lock into a recess under the table in front of him, but they don't pinch and his fingers aren't tingling so Leonard just concentrates on Jim. "You may proceed, Kirk of the Federation," says the presiding Justiciar, and Jim smiles, toothy and bright, and does.
"You sent me for proof, your Eminences, and my crew retrieved it. I'm going to bring out three weapons, one at a time. Let me remind you, I am alone --" no you're not, Leonard thinks on a surge of fifty different feelings -- "and I give you my word I won't fire any of them." At the Justiciar's nod he reaches under the lectern and lifts out two phasers, then unholsters his and puts it down beside its seeming triplets.
"These all appear to be Federation phasers. These two were retrieved from Taranak VI. Analysis will show they're impregnated with planetside dust -- Taranak VI's particular rich in mu-isotope gallium compounds -- and their surfaces have UV hazing from Taranak itself. Wait," he says as a guard steps forward, dipping his voice to a commanding near-rumble, "this third is my own personal sidearm, and has never been on Taranak VI or under its star's light. Furthermore --" Jim picks up the first phaser, nonchalant as five guards aim at him and Leonard jerks against the cuffs before he can halt the reflexive lurch, and twists it in a motion Leonard's never seen used to disassemble phasers.
The weapon opens, and what can be seen inside glints metallic green, entirely unlike a phaser's guts at all. "This," Jim announces, his voice ringing off every corner and edge of the room, "is a Romulan disruptor built to look like a Federation phaser. Take mine to compare -- they're entirely different weapons, down to the isotope balances of the alloys used. Yeah, come on, now," he adds to the guard hovering nearby, a tinge of sass creeping into his tone, "now I'm done. You can have them."
The Justiciars murmur amongst themselves. Jim looks straight forward, and Leonard's pulse beats a worried drumbeat in his ears; waiting, hoping, he wills his racing heart to slow without one smidge of success. Is it enough? What are they waiting for? Hopefully not the Romulans.
At length the presiding Justiciar turns to Jim. "Thank you, Kirk of the Federation. This is extremely compelling, though we will require a wider range of evidence to make a final decision."
"Fine, fine," Jim answers, "excellent, Your Eminences. We can discuss the matter further once my officer has been released." He stares forward, eyes searing as lasers, holding the Justiciar's full attention. "I fulfilled my end of the deal. Fulfill yours."
There's a frozen moment when the whole room seems to stop, when Leonard doesn't dare breathe. Then the Justiciars nod, all of them in a rippling line, and the guards unlock Leonard from his desk and pull the cuffs off him as they lift him to his feet. He shoulders them off, maybe a little rougher than absolutely necessary, and strides across the room as Jim jogs down the lectern steps like he'd rather jump.
He probably would, crazy kid. They meet in the middle, a crackling centimeter of space between them. "You all right, Dr. McCoy?" Jim gives Leonard's shoulder one brief, warm, living squeeze, yanking his hand away before either of them can give in and keep it there.
"I'm keeping fine, Captain," Leonard answers, dazzled by Jim's smile, winded by relief, his hands free and empty at his sides.
Jim nods, looking over Leonard's head at the Justiciars. "Your Eminences, Sadoran people, thank you. See you around."
"We have not yet granted you permission to depart," answers the presiding Justiciar, but Jim just speaks over him into his comm, "Computer, execute Lift Pattern A, Captain's authorization delta-niner-two-zeta-beta."
Leonard's never been happier to feel the sickening lurch of dematerialization. He arrives in a shuttlecraft, between the console and the seats, which is all he sees before all he sees is Jim's flaring grin and then the red-dark inside of his eyelids as they lunge for each other, grabbing hold and squeezing tight and trying to climb into each other via a mutually devouring kiss. All Leonard can think, pounding in his temples, is I might never have seen you again, and all he can do is pull Jim tight up against him, tighter than the goodbye kiss in the Sadoran washroom, and smooch him a warm hello down to his tonsils.
Eventually, much too soon, the airless ache in his chest ramps up insistently and Jim pushes back on a gasping, inhaled laugh. "Bones," he says rapturously, arms wound around Leonard's ribcage, hands messing up his hair. "God, Bones."
"You made it," Leonard gasps stupidly, "you made it back."
"You bet I did." This close Leonard can see everything he couldn't before, the fine lines around Jim's eyes and the dark smudges beneath them, and when Jim's hand slides across his cheek he kisses the heel. Jim grins even wider, then abruptly pushes away. "And we're not gone yet. The Enterprise's still six hours away and I am done with this star system."
"The Enterprise?" Leonard stumbles backwards towards a seat, unable to tear his eyes from Jim, who's buckling into the pilot's station. "Where--"
"I sent her to Taranak VI, had Scotty beam me a couple souveniers. I holed up in Sador V's gas clouds meanwhile, thinking over that comm jammer." Jim's fingers flick and tap in the motions of flight, and Leonard feels the shuttle wheel around though the space-black view doesn't change. "It's a little pathetic how easy the hack was. Anyway, buckle up, Bones, we've got some flying to do before we're home free and I can nail your ass on the floor."
"Just concentrate on your flying, Captain Itchy Britches," Leonard answers with a great big sappy smile for the back of Jim's tawny head. "Maybe if you're really good I'll fuck you till your big brain melts."
Jim laughs, gunning it so hard the acceleration overwhelms the inertial dampeners and flattens Leonard into his seat. "How come you get to top, then, dis-dressed damsel?"
Because you just saved an ally for the Federation and me from dying on some random planet, because you're brilliant and I love you more than I can stand, Leonard doesn't say. Instead he drawls, "Because while you were putting together your show and tell, I had nothing to do but sit around and think about you, naked."
Jim laughs so brightly Leonard can just picture the shining wake they must be trailing, like an aurora across the Sadoran sky.
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threetwo kids and one hubby, and hormones and a real blasted writer's block, I was feeling pretty crappy and this made me soooo happy. Made me smile and tear up.So many lovely turns of phrase that captured me. They were even better than the first time.
*hugs*
WN
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They lend themselves to the classicas, don't they? :D
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Thank you!
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*squishes fic*
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