Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2009-06-01 14:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | star trek fic hotm, star trek fic kirk/mccoy |
Star Trek fic: Bullshit, Medically Speaking [Kirk/McCoy, adult]
Title: Bullshit, Medically Speaking
Author: celandineb
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy (preslash)
Rating: adult
Length: 1332 words
Warnings: unrequited lust, wanking
Summary: Kirk really thinks McCoy needs to relax.
Note: First ST fic, yeah. There will probably be at least two follow-ups to this one. ETA: First in the "Heart of the Matter" series.
Throwing up on someone was not exactly the kind of action that McCoy would have expected to result in a friendship. He'd been smart enough not to eat for twelve hours before the shuttle took off, but it hadn't been enough to prevent that embarrassment. He figured that Kirk would disappear from his orbit as soon as they reached the Academy.
Yet Kirk had stuck around, though the two of them had little obviously in common except for their mutual status as cadets. McCoy was older, quieter, whereas Kirk shot through Starfleet Academy like a flaming arrow, anachronistic as such a simile might be: bright, sharp, and often dangerous to be around. Hot, as well, although McCoy tried to ignore that as much as possible.
"How many this week, Jim?" McCoy asked as they fell into step outside the library. Friday lunch had become their regular meeting time; not that they didn't see each other frequently, but this was the day that neither of them happened to have classes, labs, or other scheduled commitments over the lunch hour and therefore could count on eating together.
"How many what?"
Kirk's pretense of not knowing what McCoy was talking about would have been infuriating if Kirk weren't so obviously light-hearted about the whole business of seduction.
"Girls. Women. Whatever."
"Women are not 'whatever,' Bones," Kirk informed him. "Only three so far this week. I must be losing my touch."
"Hardly." McCoy glanced at his friend. "You are using precautions, aren't you?"
"I go to the clinic every month for the contraception booster. I'm only shooting blanks, guaranteed. And taking all the STD vaccines too, before you ask." Kirk smirked. "I should think you would just read my medical records instead of nagging me about it."
McCoy cuffed him on the shoulder. "I only have your well-being at heart, you know."
"I'd rather see you have your well-being at heart. When's the last time you got laid yourself?"
At least Kirk had lowered his voice slightly as they passed a pair of young female cadets, although he grinned and winked at them. One giggled, the other tried to look haughty but didn't quite succeed.
"I don't keep track the way you do," McCoy evaded.
Kirk shot him a Look, the sort that made it quite clear he didn't believe a word McCoy was saying, but didn't he press the matter. Not then. Not until they'd each chosen their food from among the dubious selections the cafeteria offered that day and found a table that allowed Kirk to ogle anyone coming in who took his fancy.
"We need to find you a date, Bones, and by 'date' I mean 'someone to sleep with,'" Kirk said. "No more of this prudish insistence that it be a relationship before you have sex. If you wait for that, you could be waiting until you die."
"I had a relationship," McCoy growled, using the side of his fork to cut into what purported to be meatloaf and inspecting the bite dubiously before putting it in his mouth. Edible. Just. "I was married; in fact, I think that's practically the first thing I told you about myself."
"Well, being vomited on shortly thereafter did rather push that piece of information to the back of my mind." Kirk chewed noisily on an apple. "I'm not saying you haven't had sex in the past, I'm saying you need to do it now."
McCoy sighed. "Has it ever occurred to you that not everyone is as keen on sex as you are?"
"No." Kirk held McCoy's gaze for a few seconds, then grinned. "Oh, come on. Of course I know that. I just think they're crazy... and that means you, too. So. Seriously, how long's it been? Since you divorced? Your dick will shrivel up if you don't use it."
"You are aware that I'm a doctor," McCoy said. "Which means I know that your theory is bullshit. Medically speaking."
"And non-medically speaking? Everyone needs to find a way to relax. Especially doctors. I've seen you after a bad day, Bones, so don't try to pretend you don't need to let off steam somehow." Kirk used a crust of bread to swipe up the last of his gravy, and popped it into his mouth. "Your own hand just isn't the same as getting it on with some willing pussy. And there is a lot of that around; all you have to do is go after it."
McCoy looked away as Kirk licked a crumb from his lip. "I appreciate your concern, but give this a rest. I'm a big boy and I can take care of myself."
"I know you can. The point is, you shouldn't have to."
"Damn it, Jim, can't you tell I don't want to discuss this?" McCoy stood up, grabbed his tray, and carried it to the hatch. When he turned around, however, Kirk was right there.
"Come to the bar with me tonight. You're not on duty, are you?"
"No," said McCoy grudgingly.
"So come. A bunch of us are going, and you can just get drunk. Or watch me getting drunk. Whatever." Kirk flashed his most irresistible grin, and McCoy couldn't resist it any more than any of the women on whom Kirk so often used it.
Besides, if he said no, Kirk would just keep prodding him to figure out why not, and he really didn't want the conversation to head that direction.
"What time?" he sighed, beaten.
"I'll swing by your room and grab you between eight and nine." Kirk glanced at the big clock on the wall. "Gotta run, see you then!"
McCoy's seminar on xenoviral mutations was in fifteen minutes, but he didn't have as far across campus to go as Kirk did. He walked slowly to the laboratory and reached it with minutes to spare, but he was distracted for the rest of the afternoon.
There was always a certain level of amusement in observing Kirk at bars, he had to admit. The younger man was astonishingly good at picking up women, although he did also often manage to get himself into... well, a charitable word was "disputes," but McCoy preferred to call a brawl a brawl.
Tonight no brawls seemed in the offing, however. Kirk had towed McCoy in and stashed him at a table with a handful of other cadets before promptly going off to begin chatting up a blonde who was standing with several friends over by the bar.
McCoy watched as the flirting became more intense. Kirk bought the woman another drink; he told her a story (McCoy guessed it was the one about the motorcycle and the cows, based on Kirk's hand gestures – McCoy had heard all the stories many times); he let his hand rest casually on her hip. She laughed and didn't brush it away.
No question where things were going. McCoy was on his fourth bourbon now, eyeing Kirk and trying not to show it, making conversation with the other cadets about exams, especially the Kobayashi Maru test, which no one had ever passed. It wasn't for months, but some were already worried about it. Kirk claimed he would pass it, but that was just his incredible self-assurance talking.
His damnably attractive self-assurance, now put once again to the service of seducing a woman whom Kirk would never see again after tonight.
McCoy couldn't bear to stay any longer. Weaving only slightly as he went, he made his way out and caught a bus back to campus; it wasn't that far, but he didn't feel up to walking.
His roommate was still out. McCoy shucked his clothes and stumbled into the tiny shower. There was nothing wrong with masturbation, he reminded himself. Physical relief was worthwhile on its own merits. He tried to push Kirk's face from his mind as he jacked off, but failed as miserably as he'd been failing for the past three years. His one comfort was that Kirk had never guessed.
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