Fic: Solidarity, Kirk/McCoy, G
Jan. 22nd, 2011 11:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caitriTitle: Solidarity
Author: caitri
Rating: G
Pairings: Kirk/McCoy
Word Count: 674
Summary: When Bones suffers a wardrobe malfunction, Jim and the crew offer solidarity. Inspired by the Daily Captain, Daily Doctor post at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
jim_and_bones.
Disclaimer: I know this may come as a shock, but I am not, amazing as it may seem, Gene Roddenberry, J.J. Abrams, Paramount or Bad Robot.
“Whoa,” Jim says when he sees Bones at Cochrane Hall, where the rest of the senior crew is waiting. The man’s dressy but casual shirt is undone halfway to his chest, exposing the taut, flat planes of his body that Jim only ever got to see in their quarters, or in the shower, or in the gym….the point was, he never saw them on duty. “Do you have an issue with buttons or something?” he asks, trying not to stare. “They’re gonna take pictures, you know.”
Starfleet Command had arranged this whole “meeting the press” thing once they returned from the battle with the Narada, trying to put off some of the obsessive (Uhura’s word was “stalking”) coverage of the survivors from the terrible battle. Everyone’s here—even Spock—and there’s a consistent murmuring of people outside the doors, like the reporters are chomping at the bit to get juicy quotes and pictures from the exhausted “heroes” of the day. “It’s orders, Cad—Captain Kirk,” Komack had said sternly only an hour ago, when Jim had protested. “Now shut up and go look heroic.”
Jim doesn’t feel heroic. He feels exhausted and pushed, and more than a little bit ridiculous, as does—judging by their expressions at least—his colleagues and crew around him.
Bones makes a face. “Felt like I couldn’t breathe,” he says shortly.
“He vas about to hyperwentilate, Keptin,” Pavel explains. Bones glares at the boy, who flinches. “Ve thought—“
“We,” and Uhura’s gesture takes in herself, Chekov, and Sulu, “thought it would help him relax a little, and then he could do them back up before the reporters come in. Only two buttons popped off,” she says ruefully, “and now he’s really not relaxing.”
“Hmm. Bones.” Jim gives the man his patented cocky-smug look, the one Bones hates almost as much as he loves.
“What, Jim?” Bones recognizes that tone, and if he sounds hesitant at what they both know Jim’s about to do, he’s not fighting it either.
“C’mere.” Jim takes Bones’s face in his hands and brings him close for a kiss. Jim concentrates on putting everything he has into it—all the affection and love he feels for his best friend, boyfriend, lover, colleague, all the shaky relief they still feel at making it out of there alive all the weeks later, just—everything. Bones’s mouth is warm under his, and the kiss changes because Jim needs reassurance almost as much as his beloved CMO does.
It goes on for a while. It’s maybe a few minutes later when they break to the ridiculous cat-calls of Scotty and Sulu, the amused clapping of Uhura and Chekov, and the raised eyebrow of Spock.
“Better?” Jim asks mildly.
“Much,” says Bones.
“Fascinating,” says Spock.
A black-clad commodore emerges from another room. “Alright, people,” she says, “it’s time.”
They are shuffled out to a sort of stage with nine chairs, and Jim takes a seat. He turns to grin reassuringly at Bones, whose expression has turned grim before the array of cameras facing them. Jim knows the man is feeling embarrassed and unhappy—and then an idea occurs to him.
He catches Scotty’s eye, then Chekov’s and Sulu’s, and shifts his gaze down pointedly for a split second. He catches Spock’s eye last, but the half-Vulcan only raises an eyebrow and either does not understand or affects not to. Why am I not surprised?
He unbuttons his own shirt last, and grins at the flash of a camera. “We’re setting a trend,” he says mildly, and one of the reporters punches something into her PADD. All the human men of the Enterprise now sport a similar, casual look with the lack of buttons. He eyes Bones from the corner of his eye. His CMO doesn’t look back at him, but Jim can tell from the twitch in his cheek that he’s repressing amusement, and he’s relieved by the solidarity of his captain and crew. They may be in for a long day, but at least they’re in it together.
Author: caitri
Rating: G
Pairings: Kirk/McCoy
Word Count: 674
Summary: When Bones suffers a wardrobe malfunction, Jim and the crew offer solidarity. Inspired by the Daily Captain, Daily Doctor post at
jim_and_bones.Disclaimer: I know this may come as a shock, but I am not, amazing as it may seem, Gene Roddenberry, J.J. Abrams, Paramount or Bad Robot.
“Whoa,” Jim says when he sees Bones at Cochrane Hall, where the rest of the senior crew is waiting. The man’s dressy but casual shirt is undone halfway to his chest, exposing the taut, flat planes of his body that Jim only ever got to see in their quarters, or in the shower, or in the gym….the point was, he never saw them on duty. “Do you have an issue with buttons or something?” he asks, trying not to stare. “They’re gonna take pictures, you know.”
Starfleet Command had arranged this whole “meeting the press” thing once they returned from the battle with the Narada, trying to put off some of the obsessive (Uhura’s word was “stalking”) coverage of the survivors from the terrible battle. Everyone’s here—even Spock—and there’s a consistent murmuring of people outside the doors, like the reporters are chomping at the bit to get juicy quotes and pictures from the exhausted “heroes” of the day. “It’s orders, Cad—Captain Kirk,” Komack had said sternly only an hour ago, when Jim had protested. “Now shut up and go look heroic.”
Jim doesn’t feel heroic. He feels exhausted and pushed, and more than a little bit ridiculous, as does—judging by their expressions at least—his colleagues and crew around him.
Bones makes a face. “Felt like I couldn’t breathe,” he says shortly.
“He vas about to hyperwentilate, Keptin,” Pavel explains. Bones glares at the boy, who flinches. “Ve thought—“
“We,” and Uhura’s gesture takes in herself, Chekov, and Sulu, “thought it would help him relax a little, and then he could do them back up before the reporters come in. Only two buttons popped off,” she says ruefully, “and now he’s really not relaxing.”
“Hmm. Bones.” Jim gives the man his patented cocky-smug look, the one Bones hates almost as much as he loves.
“What, Jim?” Bones recognizes that tone, and if he sounds hesitant at what they both know Jim’s about to do, he’s not fighting it either.
“C’mere.” Jim takes Bones’s face in his hands and brings him close for a kiss. Jim concentrates on putting everything he has into it—all the affection and love he feels for his best friend, boyfriend, lover, colleague, all the shaky relief they still feel at making it out of there alive all the weeks later, just—everything. Bones’s mouth is warm under his, and the kiss changes because Jim needs reassurance almost as much as his beloved CMO does.
It goes on for a while. It’s maybe a few minutes later when they break to the ridiculous cat-calls of Scotty and Sulu, the amused clapping of Uhura and Chekov, and the raised eyebrow of Spock.
“Better?” Jim asks mildly.
“Much,” says Bones.
“Fascinating,” says Spock.
A black-clad commodore emerges from another room. “Alright, people,” she says, “it’s time.”
They are shuffled out to a sort of stage with nine chairs, and Jim takes a seat. He turns to grin reassuringly at Bones, whose expression has turned grim before the array of cameras facing them. Jim knows the man is feeling embarrassed and unhappy—and then an idea occurs to him.
He catches Scotty’s eye, then Chekov’s and Sulu’s, and shifts his gaze down pointedly for a split second. He catches Spock’s eye last, but the half-Vulcan only raises an eyebrow and either does not understand or affects not to. Why am I not surprised?
He unbuttons his own shirt last, and grins at the flash of a camera. “We’re setting a trend,” he says mildly, and one of the reporters punches something into her PADD. All the human men of the Enterprise now sport a similar, casual look with the lack of buttons. He eyes Bones from the corner of his eye. His CMO doesn’t look back at him, but Jim can tell from the twitch in his cheek that he’s repressing amusement, and he’s relieved by the solidarity of his captain and crew. They may be in for a long day, but at least they’re in it together.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-24 12:07 am (UTC)Yeah,
Personally, I think your AU sounds like it would work better emotionally as a single longer fic, cos that's something that's just really hard to do with one-shots, I think. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-24 12:13 am (UTC)Yeah, I was thinking single longer fic too. When I do a series by chapters, I don't usually finish it. Normally my plots are more action than emotional, though, with an external struggle, so this will be challenging for me to write in that way. I don't want to write some Magic Emotional Healing Because of teh Gay Sex fic, but I do want them propping each other up. What I posted already is the first time they meet, the prologue, and then there's going to be a next meeting, and then it's going to be a few years before the one after that.
Goddamn work keeping me from writing this. They need to make a word processor that's like an ereader so I can write while I'm commuting.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-24 12:15 am (UTC)Seriously, you have NO idea how much of my fic ends up getting written on planes, trains, and shuttlebuses. :)