Kick Some Ass | Big Plans | Fever Induced Hallucinations | Eating In
Fandom: STxi
Disclaimer: I need one. What does that tell you?
Rating: T
Genre: fluff, romance, aaaand whatever you wanna label Kick Some Ass.
A/n: Comment fics.
"Booones," Jim warned, looking at him warily as his friend's lip curl ever so slightly as he put on leather armor, piece by piece. He wished he wasn't trussed up like a pig so he could stand in Bones's stead.
"Jiiim," Bones drawled back, watching his opponent as the man shrugged on his own armor across the ring. "What?"
"Don't..." Jim started. "I don't think this is a good idea," he said after a pause.
"That's too bad," Bones replied. "They picked me after you opened that big yap of yours. Haven't you ever heard of 'keeping your fucking mouth shut'?" He glanced at Jim briefly. "Do you think I can't do this?" When Jim didn't say anything, he added, "I knew I was gonna get into messes with you, so I figured I'd better know how to defend myself. And I was in SCA in college, so I know my way around a sword.
"Now," Bones said, "I'm gonna go kick some ass so we can get the hell out of here. You lie still. I know you hate that shit but they sliced you open pretty good and I don't want you to disturb the wound."
With that, he set off into the ring, leaving Jim to watch.
"Dammit, Sam," Jim muttered as he drove to his brother's house. Jim was currently babysitting his nephew, Peter, who his brother was due to have picked up almost an hour ago. Sam was the forgetful type, but never with his son, so Jim was worried.
He was also really fucking annoyed. He loved Peter to bits and pieces, but he also had big plans with Bones in about forty five minutes and Bones hated tardiness with a passion that bordered on what he felt for idiocy. Jim knew Bones would understand, but some annoyance would still be there (at Sam, more than anything) and he'd rather not have that mar the evening.
"Unca Jiiim," Peter whined. "Can we get ice cream?"
He held back a snap. "No, Peter, you're going home soon and your mom will be unhappy with us both. But maybe next time." Jim was not above sugaring his nephew up and dropping him off in retaliation.
"Yay!" Peter exclaimed, unabashed glee on his pudgy little face.
His grin was infectious and Jim could help but smile, too. "How does Cold Stone sound?"
"Ooh, yeah! Great! They have cake batter flavor!" Peter said, looking pleased.
"Eww," Jim replied, glancing at the rear view mirror. "Cake batter? Gross! Chocolate all the way, my friend."
"Boooring," Peter told him.
Jim had to slam on the breaks suddenly, the guy in front of him stopping hard. Automatically, he reached back to make sure Peter was ok as he yelled at the other driver. "What the HELL, man? Can't you fucking drive?"
"Fuck you!" the other driver yelled back and flipped him off before driving away.
Jim responded in kind with his free hand, hating driving in San Fransisco intensely. "At least the stars don't fucking move," he grumbled.
Eventually, he deposited Peter on Sam's doorstep and glared at his brother, who looked answered the door with sex hair and post-coital glow (up until he saw Jim's expression and his son, at which point it evaporated).
"Sorry, Jim," Sam said, looking sheepish and rubbing the back of his head as he stepped to the side to let Peter into the house. "Lost track of time."
"Uh huh," Jim replied, still pissed. "Don't fucking do that again. I don't mind babysitting, but I do mind when it interferes with my plans."
"Sorry," Sam said again. "Really."
"It's fine," Jim said in a way that suggested he thought Sam was an asshole. "I have a date in half an hour, so I've got to go. Peter was well behaved--" Jim's comm chirped and he shoved his hand in his pants pocket to retrieve it. "And I fed him before we left."
Sam nodded. "Thanks."
"No problem. See ya," he said, turning around to leave. As he walked down the drive way, he opened the message and found that Uhura had sent him a picture.
A picture of Peter flipping all and sundry off as a pissed-looking Jim drove the car. There was text at the bottom of the photo.
Yours?
Jim chuckled.
My nephew. And how the fuck did you get a picture of us?
The response was instant.
Was out and about. Saw a nice car. Saw my boss in it. Saw a kid in the car flipping off the world. And then I had questions.
Laughing, Jim replied as he climbed into the car.
Babysitting. My brother was busy getting laid and forgot the time, and I have plans with Bones soon. Also, I hate California drivers.
I see. And I believe the entire Federation does. Have fun tonight.
I will, thanks.
With that, Jim stuffed the comm his jacket pocket and started the car. He'd be cutting it close, but he figured he'd make it on time. He had been simultaneously looking forward to this for ages and nervous as hell.
Tonight, he planned to propose.
"Dammit, Bones," Jim sighed. He dropped his pastry and small shopping bag on the counter of their small, StarFleet provided apartment. "I leave you alone for half an hour to pick up food and come back to you cuddling a bowl of fruit."
Bones looked at him with confused, bright eyes and then glared. "I was hot," he said grumpily. "And the apples..." Bones trailed off.
"'The apples' what?" Jim asked patiently as he took the bowl from Bones.
"They were cold."
"You could have taken a cool shower, if you were that hot," Jim pointed out gently.
Bones glared at him again. "Wasn't cuddlin' them 'cause I was too hot. Couch was cool enough for me. Was cuddlin' them 'cause they were cold."
Comprehension dawned and Jim reached out to check his boyfriend's temperature, laying one hand on his forehead. Fever. "I see. Where's your med kit?"
"Why?" Bones eyed him suspiciously. "No cold sex."
"Of course not," Jim said, wondering if he was aware of how sick he was. "And you have a fever. I want to relieve it. And then I'll make you chicken noodle soup."
Bones's eyes brightened interestedly. "Soup sounds good. Med kit is in the closet."
"All right," Jim said. "Wanna stay on the couch or sleep in our room?"
"Room," Bones said and stood up. He looked sort of wobbly, so Jim moved close enough to make sure he was there in case Bones fell. When his boyfriend looked at him weirdly, Jim reached for his hand and lead the way back to their room.
"Jim Kirk!" Bones yelled, his voice muffled by the slatted door between them. "Get the fuck out of that bathroom! You're worse than a teenage girl on her first date!"
Jim rolled his eyes. "I know you! You're not even out of bed yet!" he hollered back through the slats. "And I'm almost done!" Jim took one last look at his ass in the mirror and adjusted his junk. These jeans were too tight for actual underwear, but they made Bones a little wild-eyed every time he saw Jim in them.
He opened the door, and a groggy-and-annoyed Bones leaned up on one elbow give him a glare. Jim couldn't help but grin when the eyebrow shift from annoyed to glaring stopped way through, shifted some more, and then settled on confused and interested as Jim sashayed toward him, exaggerating the sway of his hips.
Resting his weight on one arm and leaning over Bones, he brushed his lips against the shell of his boyfriend's ear. "See, I was right. You're still in bed."
The eyebrows rearranged themselves into an actual glower. "Shut up. There better be water left."
"'Course," Jim replied, allowing Bones to push him away and chuckling when his hands lingered. "Don't want my pretty pretty princess to not have hot water. He gets all crotchety when he doesn't." Jim laughed when Bones flipped him the bird and added, "Don't forget breakfast is over soon!"
"Shoulda gotten out sooner!" Bones called through the door. "Serves you right if we miss out."
Jim lounged in the ancient armchair by their door, idly flipping through feeds as he waited for his boyfriend to come out. Bones took advantage of the endless supply of hot water the house had - they were house sitting for Bones's favorite cousin in a remote and beautiful part of Tennessee - and came out soon with a cloud of steam at his heels, in only jeans himself.
Jim weighed the promise of real, actually-from-a-pig, bacon against pushing Bones up against the wall and doing filthy things to him as the man rifled through the dresser for a shirt. He let the balance hang for a long moment before plastering himself against Bones's shower-damp back and tilting his head to mouth along Bones's jaw up under his ear.
Bones stilled for a long moment. "I guess we can eat in."
Jim chuckled. "Good."
Disclaimer: I need one. What does that tell you?
Rating: T
Genre: fluff, romance, aaaand whatever you wanna label Kick Some Ass.
A/n: Comment fics.
"Booones," Jim warned, looking at him warily as his friend's lip curl ever so slightly as he put on leather armor, piece by piece. He wished he wasn't trussed up like a pig so he could stand in Bones's stead.
"Jiiim," Bones drawled back, watching his opponent as the man shrugged on his own armor across the ring. "What?"
"Don't..." Jim started. "I don't think this is a good idea," he said after a pause.
"That's too bad," Bones replied. "They picked me after you opened that big yap of yours. Haven't you ever heard of 'keeping your fucking mouth shut'?" He glanced at Jim briefly. "Do you think I can't do this?" When Jim didn't say anything, he added, "I knew I was gonna get into messes with you, so I figured I'd better know how to defend myself. And I was in SCA in college, so I know my way around a sword.
"Now," Bones said, "I'm gonna go kick some ass so we can get the hell out of here. You lie still. I know you hate that shit but they sliced you open pretty good and I don't want you to disturb the wound."
With that, he set off into the ring, leaving Jim to watch.
"Dammit, Sam," Jim muttered as he drove to his brother's house. Jim was currently babysitting his nephew, Peter, who his brother was due to have picked up almost an hour ago. Sam was the forgetful type, but never with his son, so Jim was worried.
He was also really fucking annoyed. He loved Peter to bits and pieces, but he also had big plans with Bones in about forty five minutes and Bones hated tardiness with a passion that bordered on what he felt for idiocy. Jim knew Bones would understand, but some annoyance would still be there (at Sam, more than anything) and he'd rather not have that mar the evening.
"Unca Jiiim," Peter whined. "Can we get ice cream?"
He held back a snap. "No, Peter, you're going home soon and your mom will be unhappy with us both. But maybe next time." Jim was not above sugaring his nephew up and dropping him off in retaliation.
"Yay!" Peter exclaimed, unabashed glee on his pudgy little face.
His grin was infectious and Jim could help but smile, too. "How does Cold Stone sound?"
"Ooh, yeah! Great! They have cake batter flavor!" Peter said, looking pleased.
"Eww," Jim replied, glancing at the rear view mirror. "Cake batter? Gross! Chocolate all the way, my friend."
"Boooring," Peter told him.
Jim had to slam on the breaks suddenly, the guy in front of him stopping hard. Automatically, he reached back to make sure Peter was ok as he yelled at the other driver. "What the HELL, man? Can't you fucking drive?"
"Fuck you!" the other driver yelled back and flipped him off before driving away.
Jim responded in kind with his free hand, hating driving in San Fransisco intensely. "At least the stars don't fucking move," he grumbled.
Eventually, he deposited Peter on Sam's doorstep and glared at his brother, who looked answered the door with sex hair and post-coital glow (up until he saw Jim's expression and his son, at which point it evaporated).
"Sorry, Jim," Sam said, looking sheepish and rubbing the back of his head as he stepped to the side to let Peter into the house. "Lost track of time."
"Uh huh," Jim replied, still pissed. "Don't fucking do that again. I don't mind babysitting, but I do mind when it interferes with my plans."
"Sorry," Sam said again. "Really."
"It's fine," Jim said in a way that suggested he thought Sam was an asshole. "I have a date in half an hour, so I've got to go. Peter was well behaved--" Jim's comm chirped and he shoved his hand in his pants pocket to retrieve it. "And I fed him before we left."
Sam nodded. "Thanks."
"No problem. See ya," he said, turning around to leave. As he walked down the drive way, he opened the message and found that Uhura had sent him a picture.
A picture of Peter flipping all and sundry off as a pissed-looking Jim drove the car. There was text at the bottom of the photo.
Yours?
Jim chuckled.
My nephew. And how the fuck did you get a picture of us?
The response was instant.
Was out and about. Saw a nice car. Saw my boss in it. Saw a kid in the car flipping off the world. And then I had questions.
Laughing, Jim replied as he climbed into the car.
Babysitting. My brother was busy getting laid and forgot the time, and I have plans with Bones soon. Also, I hate California drivers.
I see. And I believe the entire Federation does. Have fun tonight.
I will, thanks.
With that, Jim stuffed the comm his jacket pocket and started the car. He'd be cutting it close, but he figured he'd make it on time. He had been simultaneously looking forward to this for ages and nervous as hell.
Tonight, he planned to propose.
"Dammit, Bones," Jim sighed. He dropped his pastry and small shopping bag on the counter of their small, StarFleet provided apartment. "I leave you alone for half an hour to pick up food and come back to you cuddling a bowl of fruit."
Bones looked at him with confused, bright eyes and then glared. "I was hot," he said grumpily. "And the apples..." Bones trailed off.
"'The apples' what?" Jim asked patiently as he took the bowl from Bones.
"They were cold."
"You could have taken a cool shower, if you were that hot," Jim pointed out gently.
Bones glared at him again. "Wasn't cuddlin' them 'cause I was too hot. Couch was cool enough for me. Was cuddlin' them 'cause they were cold."
Comprehension dawned and Jim reached out to check his boyfriend's temperature, laying one hand on his forehead. Fever. "I see. Where's your med kit?"
"Why?" Bones eyed him suspiciously. "No cold sex."
"Of course not," Jim said, wondering if he was aware of how sick he was. "And you have a fever. I want to relieve it. And then I'll make you chicken noodle soup."
Bones's eyes brightened interestedly. "Soup sounds good. Med kit is in the closet."
"All right," Jim said. "Wanna stay on the couch or sleep in our room?"
"Room," Bones said and stood up. He looked sort of wobbly, so Jim moved close enough to make sure he was there in case Bones fell. When his boyfriend looked at him weirdly, Jim reached for his hand and lead the way back to their room.
"Jim Kirk!" Bones yelled, his voice muffled by the slatted door between them. "Get the fuck out of that bathroom! You're worse than a teenage girl on her first date!"
Jim rolled his eyes. "I know you! You're not even out of bed yet!" he hollered back through the slats. "And I'm almost done!" Jim took one last look at his ass in the mirror and adjusted his junk. These jeans were too tight for actual underwear, but they made Bones a little wild-eyed every time he saw Jim in them.
He opened the door, and a groggy-and-annoyed Bones leaned up on one elbow give him a glare. Jim couldn't help but grin when the eyebrow shift from annoyed to glaring stopped way through, shifted some more, and then settled on confused and interested as Jim sashayed toward him, exaggerating the sway of his hips.
Resting his weight on one arm and leaning over Bones, he brushed his lips against the shell of his boyfriend's ear. "See, I was right. You're still in bed."
The eyebrows rearranged themselves into an actual glower. "Shut up. There better be water left."
"'Course," Jim replied, allowing Bones to push him away and chuckling when his hands lingered. "Don't want my pretty pretty princess to not have hot water. He gets all crotchety when he doesn't." Jim laughed when Bones flipped him the bird and added, "Don't forget breakfast is over soon!"
"Shoulda gotten out sooner!" Bones called through the door. "Serves you right if we miss out."
Jim lounged in the ancient armchair by their door, idly flipping through feeds as he waited for his boyfriend to come out. Bones took advantage of the endless supply of hot water the house had - they were house sitting for Bones's favorite cousin in a remote and beautiful part of Tennessee - and came out soon with a cloud of steam at his heels, in only jeans himself.
Jim weighed the promise of real, actually-from-a-pig, bacon against pushing Bones up against the wall and doing filthy things to him as the man rifled through the dresser for a shirt. He let the balance hang for a long moment before plastering himself against Bones's shower-damp back and tilting his head to mouth along Bones's jaw up under his ear.
Bones stilled for a long moment. "I guess we can eat in."
Jim chuckled. "Good."