hurt/comfort AOS prompt
anonymous
February 27 2011, 03:15:03 UTC
This h/c plot bunny was born out of my somewhat vile mood. Bear with me. *g*
Kirk is negotiating some sort of treaty (details are up to you) when McCoy gets in his face about something. It doesn't even have to be major; in fact, I'd prefer if he made some minor faux pas like speaking out of turn (according to the aliens). The aliens require a show of strength from Kirk: they want to see him punish McCoy, and not in a sexyfuntimes way. (Whipping, beating - again, up to you.)
Naturally, Kirk is vehemently against this. However, the aliens up the stakes by refusing to sign the treaty and threatening the rest of the crew. So Kirk really has no choice, although he absolutely loathes himself during and after. McCoy takes it.
Afterward, Kirk continues with the self-loathing. I want to see how they come back together. I think McCoy would understand and not stop loving Kirk, but he might be twitchy around him for a while. How does Kirk learn to live with himself? What lengths does he go to in order to win McCoy's forgiveness? Is there a small part of McCoy that thinks Kirk could have found another way? (If you feel like piling on the angst - was Kirk beaten as a kid? If you go that route, I'd wildly prefer it if Winona were not complicit or apathetic.)
I don't want the hurt to be titillating. I'd like the emphasis to be on the aftermath.
[fill] The Properties of Flesh; NC-17 1/?
anonymous
March 26 2011, 19:05:57 UTC
Sulu tore his hand free and grabbed Jim's arm as he passed, grip bruising. Jim froze. "Sir, he's not going to survive ten," Sulu burst out tersely. Beside him, Chekov was watching the discussion surreptitiously. "The Gaussian body is stronger, they can take more. You have to get the punishment lowered."
"I've tried," Jim murmured back. Sulu's face was unnaturally pale as he leaned close.
"Gag him so he doesn't bite through his tongue," Sulu breathed against Jim's ear. And then the guard dragged Sulu away, wrestling him to the ground in a flurry of elbows and restrained grunts. Sulu's face was shoved hard into the ground, red and defiant, as his arms were twisted painfully behind his back. Jim, not for the first time, felt like he was going to throw up. When the handle of the whip was placed in his hand, his skin crawled. He clenched his fingers hard around the leather-bound stick as he was ushered forward onto the platform. Every muscle in his legs strained as he climbed the two slight steps onto the platform with his escort.
The Gaussians had already prepared Bones, stripped his shirt and lashed him to a wide pole, his flesh bare for Jim. His head was tucked into his arm, hidden from the view of the crowd around the platform. The muscles of his broad back flexed as he breathed, slight, unsteady intakes of air as he waited on his knees.
"He will not survive ten," Jim heard himself say. "Human physiology cannot withstand the intensity."
"He will survive seven, then," the Gaussian said serenely. "Do you require anything else?"
"A gag," Jim managed to choke out, struggling to keep his voice steady with the weight of the lash in his hand. The Gaussian gestured to someone on the edge of the platform. A young boy hopped up onto the platform holding a white rag. He offered it to Jim, who took it with his free hand. Both Gaussians stepped back to observe. Jim straightened his shoulders and walked to the centre of the platform, where the post was staked firmly in the planks. He knelt in front of Bones.
He set the lash down slowly to grip the cloth in both hands. The shadow passing over Bones' skin forced his head up, but before Jim could second-guess himself, the Starfleet Captain forced the cloth between Bones' teeth. Bones' head jerked, his eyes wide at Jim's rough treatment. Jim pulled the knot tight at the back of Bones' head and stepped away, unable to meet his eyes. Jim grasped the lash and walked too-quickly around Bones to avoid his eyes. Bones tucked his head back into his arm, and Jim could see his jaw clenching around the cloth in his mouth.
[fill] The Properties of Flesh; NC-17 2/?
anonymous
March 27 2011, 00:39:30 UTC
"You may begin," the Gaussian encouraged from the side of the platform. Jim felt the irrational sense that this should be done in private. Jim drew back the flogger, but the Gaussian's voice made him freeze once more. "If you do not draw blood, I will be forced to take over."
Jim grit his teeth, body trembling with effort of holding himself. His eyes were fixed on Bones' back. The smooth, unmarked skin shifting over fluid muscle, warmed by the sun. Bones shifted, trying to get comfortable.
"Jim!"
Jim whirled at his given name issuing from the pilot's lips. Sulu arched against the strangehold the Gaussian wrapped around his throat. "Paced strokes! Along the shoulder blades!" His voice choked off, the Gaussian tightening his grip to silence him. Paced strokes.
Jim took a deep breath. He drew the flogger back once more. "Many are my names in many countries." At the last word he flung the lash forward, feeling the impact echo up his arm as the strands of leather slapped Bones' back. The doctor flinched, tensing in his bonds, and cast an eye over his shoulder to Jim. Jim resolutely did not look at his face, and stared at the red welts already swelling against skin.
"Mithrandir among the Elves." Jim threw his arm forward again, and a murmur rose from the Gaussian delegation at the sight of blood slipping down Bones' back. Bones' head disappeared into his shoulder, his muscles flexing as his body started to shake. "Tharkûn to the Dwarves," Jim ground out as he let another slap fall against Bones' back. He barely heard Bones' choked grunt of pain over his own pounding heart.
"Olórin I was in my youth in the West that is forgotten." Jim swung out again, the last syllable coinciding with the lash biting into Bones' back. Bones let out a keening moan around the gag, but as Jim started the next line, his voice was joined by Bones' rasping murmur. "In the south Incánus." Another blow. "In the North Gandalf." Another.
"To the East I go not." Jim threw the last blow and stepped back, his arm throbbing from the sensation of the lash landing across Bones' flesh. A Gaussian stepped forward to take the flogger from his hand as two moved to untie Bones from the stake. He flopped loosely into their arms, unconscious. Jim swallowed hard to keep his stomach in line as the Gaussians offered Bones to him.
Jim held out his arms and staggered under Bones' weight. He would have dropped the doctor, but another pair of hands gathered under his own, holding him. Jim glanced up sharply to see Sulu, bleeding from a split lip, helping hold Bones. There was so much blood. It slipped along Jim's hands, warm and slick, making it hard to keep his grip.
"It's all right, sir," Sulu murmured, turning his head to check Bones' pulse. Jim saw a bruise rising around his eye.
"We believe your officer has been properly disciplined. We will give you the allotted time in order to treat his wounds, and then we will resume negotiations. I hope he will be in attendance to show that he has learned his lesson." The leader of the Gaussian delegation stood over them, carefully keeping his robes away from the blood spreading at Jim's feet. Jim nodded tersely, keeping his lips pressed tightly and his jaw clenched shut against the waves of nausea flooding through him.
"Sir," Sulu urged. "Sir, you did well, but we need to get him to MedBay." Jim looked at his pilot, whose sleeves were steadily getting soaked in blood- Bones' blood- and nodded. Together, and with the rest of their newly-freed landing party, they beamed back aboard the Enterprise. Chapel and M'Benga immediately took Bones from him, and Jim tried to hold on, but Sulu and Chekov pulled his fingers away. "He'll be all right. He'll be all right," Sulu murmured. Strong fingers curled around his arm and hauled him to his feet. He let himself be led, stumbling, through the corridors. He was in shock, he dimly realised. He. The one who had delivered the beating...
[fill] The Properties of Flesh; NC-17 3/?
anonymous
March 27 2011, 01:30:40 UTC
"Jim, take a shower," Sulu's voice murmured in his ear. He found himself blinking in a clean bathroom, and he glanced at his hands, slick with red. His nausea returned with a vengeance, and he barely had time to wrap his hands around the toilet bowl before his alien lunch made a second appearance. Sulu was by his side instantly, warm hand running along Jim's spine as Jim retched violently, stomach clenching in agony. Jim sucked in a deep breath, only to choke on it as his stomach heaved again. This time, only bile and a bit of blood came up. Jim moaned.
"Drink."
A cup appeared in his hand and he rinsed his mouth gratefully. Sulu's hand still rested on his back. Jim sat back, his stomach finally settled, and saw Chekov sitting on his other side with a wet cloth. Without a word, Chekov took Jim's hands and wiped at them. "Jim," Sulu said once more. "Take a shower. Do you need help?"
Jim waved them both off and they left. Jim clawed his way into a standing position, and realised that this was not his bathroom. That was not his toothpaste or razor. He grasped a towel before stripping and stepping into the sonic.
The frequencies soothed his nerves slightly, and by the time the grime and blood had been shaken off, his mind had started to stir. He stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around his waist. Sulu waited just outside the door with a set of rest clothes. He handed them over wordlessly and Jim quickly dressed.
"You all right?" Sulu asked quietly.
"I will be," Jim said honestly. Sulu held up a PADD.
"M'Benga's preliminary report. You were able to avoid most of the haemorrhaging and contusions that are usually associated with such a barbaric form of punishment. He sealed up the lacerations and right now he is working on healing the deeper wounds. Internal bleeding was kept to a minimum, and there was no vital organ damage." Sulu handed Jim the report solemnly. "You did good. Flogging can deal a great amount of damage to internal organs if the victim is struck in the wrong place."
Jim read every single word of the brief report before lowering the PADD. "How did you know what to do?" he asked hoarsely. Sulu flicked his eyes to Chekov, who instantly went to his knees with the grace of long practice.
"Pavel, bring me your least favourite toy," Sulu said, his voice taking on a completely different tone. Chekov crawled across the floor sinuously, nudging open a small box. He grasped an item between his teeth and returned with it, dropping a small silk flogger into Sulu's lap. Sulu picked it up gingerly and handed it to Jim. This was nothing like what he had held earlier that day. This was light and almost soft. "It can still do damage." Sulu's fingers trailed along the knots at the end of the tassels. "I've done my research." He took the flogger from Jim's hand and laid it on the bed. He reached out and gripped Jim's shoulder. "You saved him a world of hurt, Jim. And the way you paced yourself... One of the worst sensations during a beating is the anticipation of the next hit. The psychological trauma is almost worse than the physical. You were able to pace yourself and let him know when the next strike was coming. What was that poem?"
Jim snorted slightly. "It's from an old book. It's a poem about Bones' favourite character in the series. He told me once he memorised it as a child." His voice shook. "I figured he'd remember the whole thing subconsciously because he'd been carrying it for so long." Sulu nodded serenely, looking entirely too calm that his captain and CO was sitting beside him shaking.
"It was good. I saw him reciting it with you. It worked, Jim," Sulu said softly. "I don't want to force you, sir," Sulu said with a sly smile, "but you need to rest. McCoy isn't the only one who has had a trying day." Jim opened his mouth to protest, but Sulu cut him off with a stern look. "I know what it's like to hurt someone you love, even if it's for their own good. Trust me, Jim. You want to rest. You're no good to McCoy if you're a delirious mess. Now lay back and let us take care of you. McCoy is in good hands."
[fill] The Properties of Flesh; NC-17 4/?
anonymous
March 27 2011, 03:15:14 UTC
Jim shook his head even as Sulu pushed him back against the soft mattress and Chekov curled up against him. Chekov's warmth was soothing at his side, and Sulu didn't seem to mind when Jim put a hand around the kid's shoulders. Sulu lowered the lights and turned the heat up in the room to a comfortable temperature. "Sleep. Sleep now..." Sulu murmured over them. Chekov's breathing was even and deep, and Jim found himself lulled to sleep by the gentle sound and the sensation of Sulu's fingers carding through his hair.
He awoke tangled in Chekov's limbs. Sulu sat up beside them, reading a PADD, his thighs pressed comfortably against them. He must have noticed Jim's change in breathing, and glanced up. "How do you feel?" he asked softly. Chekov was still sleeping.
"Hungry," Jim admitted quietly. Sulu nodded, sliding from the bed soundlessly to approach the replicator and requested fruit.
"Can you sit up?" Sulu asked, returning to the bed with a plateful of food. Jim frowned.
"You're treating me like... like I was the one tortured," Jim choked out. Sulu sighed as he manuevered Chekov's limbs out of Jim's way, letting him sit upright.
"Jim, you've received the emotional equivalent of a torture session," Sulu said. "You had no preparation, no planning, no safeguards in place, and you were forced to strip the flesh from your best friend's back. That's not something to be taken lightly. Eat. Fruit is light and has sugars and water in it. We'll make some heavier stuff once I know you can keep this down." Jim picked at the plate he was handed. Sulu scowled at him, rounding the bed to shake Chekov awake. Chekov came to with a disgruntled mew, and blinked up at Sulu. "Help him," Sulu instructed.
Chekov pushed himself up and pulled his legs under him. He picked up a bit of melon from the plate and held it out for Jim. Jim jerked his head back, feeling ridiculous that he had to be fed, but Chekov's eyes pleaded with him, and he didn't lower the bite until Jim reluctantly opened his mouth. He accepted the first bite, and shooed Chekov when the kid tried to feed him more. There had to be some sort of policy breach regarding these actions... Hand-feeding a superior officer...
Jim finished the plate himself, resting against the wall when he was done. Sulu sat on the bed beside him, for the first time appearing hesitant. "Sir," he started, "I realise... my relationship with Pavel isn't... exactly proper in accordance with Starfleet regulations... and what I've shown you here is extremely intimate..."
"Don't worry, Sulu," Jim murmured, cutting him off. "Whatever happens in this room will stay in this room. I swear it." The look of relief on Sulu's face was heart-breaking. Did Sulu really think his captain would betray him... after taking care of him in the aftermath of such a traumatising mission? "I need to go see Bones," Jim said, his voice cutting through the silence. Sulu nodded.
"Can you walk there?" he asked.
"Yes," Jim said, slightly surprised that he had answered honestly. Sulu nodded again, sliding back on the bed. Chekov curled up against him without a word, eyes closed.
"Good luck sir. I'm here for you," Sulu murmured, one hand falling on Chekov's hair. Jim nodded and slid out of the room, still dressed in Sulu's casual-wear. He had to stop himself from running through the halls towards MedBay, because he couldn't let everyone see just how much the mission had gotten to him. He strode as swiftly as possible through the doors to MedBay, and only realised his feet were bare when they slapped against sterile tile. He glanced down, but his attention was diverted when M'Benga approached him with a slight smile.
"Forget something, sir?" he asked good-naturedly. Jim went weak with relief. If M'Benga was cracking jokes, nobody had died recently. "Doctor McCoy is in bed six, and he was asleep last I checked. I'd like to keep it that way for as long as possible."
[fill] The Properties of Flesh; NC-17 5/?
anonymous
March 27 2011, 03:21:57 UTC
"Thank you, Doctor," Jim said, stepping around M'Benga towards the aforementioned bed. Jim slipped through the curtains and approached the bed cautiously. Bones had been laid on his stomach to take pressure off his newly-healed back. His gown didn't even have fabric touching his back. It curved down like a back-less dress, covering enough for the doctor to remain decent. Jim couldn't resist. He reached out and skirted his fingers over skin. There was no sign of scarring. Jim couldn't even see traces of where the wounds had been. M'Benga knew what he was doing.
Bones stirred, letting out a soft huff of breath as his eyes opened. He blinked, and tried to push himself up. "Shh," Jim murmured, his hand firm at Bones' shoulder. "You're still healing."
Bones sank back against the mattress with a soft sigh, eyes closing. "Jim," he rasped out, voice hoarse.
"Hey, lazy Bones," Jim murmured, sitting down in the chair beside the bed. He wrapped his fingers around Bones' limp ones, and squeezed. "How ya feelin?"
"Rough," Bones said. "Tired."
"I think that's all the drugs kicking around in your system," Jim said. "Not so much fun being on the other side, is it?" Bones grunted non-committally. Jim rubbed his thumb over Bones' knuckles. "Can I get you anything?" Jim asked. Too late. Bones was asleep again.
Jim closed his eyes and brought Bones' hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss to his fingers and holding, just breathing Bones' scent and trying to keep back thoughts about the fall-out from this mission.
[fill] The Properties of Flesh; NC-17 6/?
anonymous
March 27 2011, 15:25:06 UTC
Jim remained at Bones' bedside until he woke once more, lucid and more like his usual self. M'Benga appeared instantly, letting Bones sit up and test out his healing back.
"How do you feel, sir?" M'Benga asked lightly, PADD in hand.
"Like a six ton semi just ran me over," Bones grumped. Jim smiled at M'Benga's face, who obviously missed the reference. "Can I go now?"
"After I run the standard tests, sir," M'Benga said, a little too cheerfully at having his CO under his thumb. Bones rolled his eyes as M'Benga poked and prodded at the skin at his back, and then finally announced he was fit for light duty. Emphasis on light. Pointed look at Jim.
"I need a shower," Bones grumbled, sliding from the bed to climb into the civvies Jim had fetched for him.
"Sponge baths weren't a 'thing' for you?" Jim teased. Bones scowled at him as he tugged his shirt over his head haltingly. Jim resisted the urge to help him, merely held the doors as they wandered out into the bustle of the main corridor. "My pad or yours?" Jim asked as they walked towards the living quarters.
Anxiety spiked as Bones hesitated for a good, long moment before answering. "Jim, I need some time to myself," Bones finally said, accompanied by a heavy exhale. "I just got out of the hospital, I feel like I have six layers of grime on me and I'm still really tired-"
"Okay," Jim said, a bit too quickly. "Okay, that's fine. I'll swing by with dinner a little later, right?"
"Sounds like a date," Bones said with a small smile. "You better bring the booze too."
"Come on, Bones, who do you think you're talking to?" Jim watched him take the turn that would lead him to his quarters. He watched until Bones' slightly tense gait disappeared, rounding another corner, out of sight. Jim folded his arms over his chest and curled his hands into fists so tightly it hurt. Of course Bones needed time to himself. He was a solitary person, who licked his wounds in private. Loudly, and most times drunkenly, but he kept the worst injuries to himself, and that knowledge was what gathered like ice in the pit of Jim's stomach. Bones would never let on how badly he was shaken by the mission. Not to Jim, who had caused the damage.
Jim made his way back to his own quarters, sitting down to begin writing his mission report. Half of him didn't even want to go back down to that cursed planet, but the Federation had clearly been interested in a certain plant that grew only in this quadrant with special medicinal purpose. Jim felt his heart clench. Even Bones would want the negotiations to go through, after everything. Even if the price was a little skin off his back...
The familiar nausea reared its head with a vengeance, but Jim had nothing in his gut to release. He stumbled into his 'fresher and dry-heaved into the toilet, resting against the wall as he tried to gather himself. One hand gripped the PADD, a message ready to send to Sulu at the touch of a button. Jim had just decided not to send it when his door chime sang.
"Who's there?" Jim asked, surprised at the hoarseness of his own voice.
"It's Sulu, sir."
Surprise flickered through Jim. "Enter," he said, glancing at the PADD. He hadn't accidentally sent the message, it was still there on his display. "Are you psychic?" Jim asked stupidly when his Japanese pilot came into view. Sulu smirked.
"No, sir, I heard from Uhura that you looked like shit and were on your way to your rooms." He flopped onto the pristine tile of Jim's 'fresher, and rested one arm easily on a bent knee. "I sent Chekov to McCoy," Sulu started, flicking his dark eyes towards the sonic. Jim couldn't take his eyes off his pilot. "The first time we tried flogging, I hadn't done quite enough research," Sulu started, taking a deep breath. "I ended up almost rupturing one of Pavel's kidneys, and I caused some pretty bad internal bleeding. Needless to say, it was a while before we could try it again. It was a while before we could try anything again, honestly. I didn't trust myself, and Pavel couldn't trust me." Sulu rolled his head against the vanity cabinet to catch Jim's wide eyes. "I know it's not the same situation. We had preparation and planning, but you two are strong together. You'll be able to pull through."
[fill] The Properties of Flesh; NC-17 7/?
anonymous
March 27 2011, 15:59:25 UTC
"Thanks," Jim murmured, struck breathless by the story. "How..."
"I had to make him comfortable being around me again," Sulu said. "Do you remember the day you reprimanded him for leaping out of his seat when I reached over the console?" Jim nodded. The kid had spilled water all over sensitive equipment and Jim had sent him to his quarters to take the rest of the day off. "That was a few days after. I let him take the lead on everything, which you can understand was quite difficult for him. My advice is be patient. Don't force anything. Let McCoy come to you. If he doesn't want you to talk, don't talk. If he doesn't want you to stand behind him, stand where he can see you."
Jim nodded. A companionable silence fell over them both, one that was surprisingly comfortable. "So... how did you two... uh, meet, I suppose?" Jim asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Sulu smirked.
"Funny story, that one. It was quite accidental..."
A few easy hours later, Sulu's PADD pinged. He glanced at it. "McCoy's asking for you," he said succinctly. "You up for it?" Jim nodded.
"Thanks, Sulu," he said, standing. Sulu nodded, pushing a hand through his short, dark hair.
"I wouldn't wish what happened to us on anyone," Sulu said quietly. "But I know you two are strong. You'll be all right." Jim smiled weakly. "If you want Chekov to stay, just look him in the eye and say 'Ugokuna'. He'll know I want you to stay."
Jim paused. "Should I be concerned about conflict of interests regarding following orders?" he asked. Sulu shook his head.
"Our rules are pretty strict. If we're inside any of the crew's living quarters, I am in command. As soon as we cross that threshold to enter the ship proper, Starfleet hierarchy has precedence," Sulu said. "That includes the corridors in the living quarters." Jim nodded pensively.
"Very well thought out, Sulu," Jim commended. Sulu smiled wryly.
"Thank you, sir." Sulu was still smirking at him as Jim lurched out of his room, moving with restrained speed towards his CMO's quarters.
Sorry about the bastardised Japanese. If it's wrong let me know, haha! I can't change it but I will know for next time.
[fill] The Properties of Flesh; NC-17 8/?
anonymous
March 27 2011, 16:50:48 UTC
Chekov answered the door, a small, mischievous grin on his lips that had Jim cocking an eyebrow. Jim slipped into the room. "Hey Bones," he said. Bones waved slightly at him, sitting at the table in the room. "Do you want Chekov to stay?" Jim asked, stepping further into the room. "We can have a quiet dinner and play cards or something..."
"It's all right," Bones said gruffly, looking slightly tense but determined. Jim glanced at Chekov, who grinned and soundlessly departed. Jim would have to corner Sulu and get details from him once this whole mess was over. Jim sat down at the table across from Bones as the door slid shut with the soft hiss of hydraulics. Silence loomed.
"I'm sorry," Jim burst out, the words forced through in a breathless rush before he could change his mind. "I'm sorry. I didn't- I couldn't think of another way... I should have- I should have offered myself, done something different-"
Jim dimly registered the sound of a chair clattering to the ground as Bones' arms went around him. Jim choked himself off with great effort, twisting his hands in the front of Bones' shirt. " 's all right, Jim," Bones murmured, voice rough. "They woulda killed the crew. Chekov and Sulu and McGuiggan would be dead now if you hadn't acted. Hell, I'd be dead now if you hadn't acted. You got us all out with less than a two day trip to MedBay. I'd say that's pretty damn impressive." Bones' arms tightened around him, one hand tangling in his hair, holding his head close against Bones' chest. Jim could hear the rapid thunder of Bones' heart under healthy flesh, and squashed his nose to Bones' shirt, trying to get closer. Bones was alive. He was alive, relatively unharmed, and alive. "Chekov told me you were able to keep the damage to a minimum," Bones said, his voice loud in Jim's ear, pressed to his chest.
"Sulu," Jim muttered. "Told me what to do." Bones' hand drifted through Jim's hair. Jim protested slightly as Bones loosed his hold, pulling away to kneel stiffly between Jim's legs. Jim stared at him miserably as Bones gripped both his hands.
"It's all right, Jim," Bones said again, voice low and even. He met Jim's eyes, and Jim had a hard time breathing. "I know you did what you had to. You know I'd willingly do it again, to keep the rest of the crew safe." Jim nodded. "Are you all right?"
Jim let out an incredulous huff. "Why does everyone keep asking me that!? You were the one laid up in MedBay for two days!" Bones' eyes hardened, and his grip on Jim's fingers grew almost painful.
"Damage isn't only physical, Jim," Bones reminded him quietly. Jim gently freed one of his hands to touch his fingers to Bones' jaw. Bones closed his eyes, and under the pads of Jim's fingers he could feel jaw muscles clenching, tight little spasms wherever he brushed. His entire body trembled with the effort of holding himself still under Jim's touch. Jim jerked his hand back as if stung, and when Bones opened his eyes he couldn't bring himself to look at Jim.
"Damage isn't only physical," Jim repeated, breathing harshly past the hurt pooling in his gut. "What can I do?" he asked, hating that his voice pitched with desperation. "Bones?"
"I know logically that you'd never hurt me, Jim," Bones said, voice breaking around the sentence. "My body just needs to relearn that. There's a reason it's called an irrational fear."
"It's not irrational if there's experiences to compliment the psychological," Jim said quietly. Bones glared at him.
"Fer chrissake, Jim," he growled before reaching out with both hands and gripping Jim's face firmly. He drew him close, smashing their mouths together inelegantly. Jim almost whimpered, fighting hard the instinct to reach up and grab Bones back. He wrapped his hands around the seat of the chair so hard his fingers hurt, focusing on the warmth of Bones' lips on his. Bones pulled back. "I love you."
Kirk is negotiating some sort of treaty (details are up to you) when McCoy gets in his face about something. It doesn't even have to be major; in fact, I'd prefer if he made some minor faux pas like speaking out of turn (according to the aliens). The aliens require a show of strength from Kirk: they want to see him punish McCoy, and not in a sexyfuntimes way. (Whipping, beating - again, up to you.)
Naturally, Kirk is vehemently against this. However, the aliens up the stakes by refusing to sign the treaty and threatening the rest of the crew. So Kirk really has no choice, although he absolutely loathes himself during and after. McCoy takes it.
Afterward, Kirk continues with the self-loathing. I want to see how they come back together. I think McCoy would understand and not stop loving Kirk, but he might be twitchy around him for a while. How does Kirk learn to live with himself? What lengths does he go to in order to win McCoy's forgiveness? Is there a small part of McCoy that thinks Kirk could have found another way? (If you feel like piling on the angst - was Kirk beaten as a kid? If you go that route, I'd wildly prefer it if Winona were not complicit or apathetic.)
I don't want the hurt to be titillating. I'd like the emphasis to be on the aftermath.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
I'm sure the OP wouldn't mind multiple fills.
Reply
"I've tried," Jim murmured back. Sulu's face was unnaturally pale as he leaned close.
"Gag him so he doesn't bite through his tongue," Sulu breathed against Jim's ear. And then the guard dragged Sulu away, wrestling him to the ground in a flurry of elbows and restrained grunts. Sulu's face was shoved hard into the ground, red and defiant, as his arms were twisted painfully behind his back. Jim, not for the first time, felt like he was going to throw up. When the handle of the whip was placed in his hand, his skin crawled. He clenched his fingers hard around the leather-bound stick as he was ushered forward onto the platform. Every muscle in his legs strained as he climbed the two slight steps onto the platform with his escort.
The Gaussians had already prepared Bones, stripped his shirt and lashed him to a wide pole, his flesh bare for Jim. His head was tucked into his arm, hidden from the view of the crowd around the platform. The muscles of his broad back flexed as he breathed, slight, unsteady intakes of air as he waited on his knees.
"He will not survive ten," Jim heard himself say. "Human physiology cannot withstand the intensity."
"He will survive seven, then," the Gaussian said serenely. "Do you require anything else?"
"A gag," Jim managed to choke out, struggling to keep his voice steady with the weight of the lash in his hand. The Gaussian gestured to someone on the edge of the platform. A young boy hopped up onto the platform holding a white rag. He offered it to Jim, who took it with his free hand. Both Gaussians stepped back to observe. Jim straightened his shoulders and walked to the centre of the platform, where the post was staked firmly in the planks. He knelt in front of Bones.
He set the lash down slowly to grip the cloth in both hands. The shadow passing over Bones' skin forced his head up, but before Jim could second-guess himself, the Starfleet Captain forced the cloth between Bones' teeth. Bones' head jerked, his eyes wide at Jim's rough treatment. Jim pulled the knot tight at the back of Bones' head and stepped away, unable to meet his eyes. Jim grasped the lash and walked too-quickly around Bones to avoid his eyes. Bones tucked his head back into his arm, and Jim could see his jaw clenching around the cloth in his mouth.
Reply
Jim grit his teeth, body trembling with effort of holding himself. His eyes were fixed on Bones' back. The smooth, unmarked skin shifting over fluid muscle, warmed by the sun. Bones shifted, trying to get comfortable.
"Jim!"
Jim whirled at his given name issuing from the pilot's lips. Sulu arched against the strangehold the Gaussian wrapped around his throat. "Paced strokes! Along the shoulder blades!" His voice choked off, the Gaussian tightening his grip to silence him. Paced strokes.
Jim took a deep breath. He drew the flogger back once more. "Many are my names in many countries." At the last word he flung the lash forward, feeling the impact echo up his arm as the strands of leather slapped Bones' back. The doctor flinched, tensing in his bonds, and cast an eye over his shoulder to Jim. Jim resolutely did not look at his face, and stared at the red welts already swelling against skin.
"Mithrandir among the Elves." Jim threw his arm forward again, and a murmur rose from the Gaussian delegation at the sight of blood slipping down Bones' back. Bones' head disappeared into his shoulder, his muscles flexing as his body started to shake. "Tharkûn to the Dwarves," Jim ground out as he let another slap fall against Bones' back. He barely heard Bones' choked grunt of pain over his own pounding heart.
"Olórin I was in my youth in the West that is forgotten." Jim swung out again, the last syllable coinciding with the lash biting into Bones' back. Bones let out a keening moan around the gag, but as Jim started the next line, his voice was joined by Bones' rasping murmur. "In the south Incánus." Another blow. "In the North Gandalf." Another.
"To the East I go not." Jim threw the last blow and stepped back, his arm throbbing from the sensation of the lash landing across Bones' flesh. A Gaussian stepped forward to take the flogger from his hand as two moved to untie Bones from the stake. He flopped loosely into their arms, unconscious. Jim swallowed hard to keep his stomach in line as the Gaussians offered Bones to him.
Jim held out his arms and staggered under Bones' weight. He would have dropped the doctor, but another pair of hands gathered under his own, holding him. Jim glanced up sharply to see Sulu, bleeding from a split lip, helping hold Bones. There was so much blood. It slipped along Jim's hands, warm and slick, making it hard to keep his grip.
"It's all right, sir," Sulu murmured, turning his head to check Bones' pulse. Jim saw a bruise rising around his eye.
"We believe your officer has been properly disciplined. We will give you the allotted time in order to treat his wounds, and then we will resume negotiations. I hope he will be in attendance to show that he has learned his lesson." The leader of the Gaussian delegation stood over them, carefully keeping his robes away from the blood spreading at Jim's feet. Jim nodded tersely, keeping his lips pressed tightly and his jaw clenched shut against the waves of nausea flooding through him.
"Sir," Sulu urged. "Sir, you did well, but we need to get him to MedBay." Jim looked at his pilot, whose sleeves were steadily getting soaked in blood- Bones' blood- and nodded. Together, and with the rest of their newly-freed landing party, they beamed back aboard the Enterprise. Chapel and M'Benga immediately took Bones from him, and Jim tried to hold on, but Sulu and Chekov pulled his fingers away. "He'll be all right. He'll be all right," Sulu murmured. Strong fingers curled around his arm and hauled him to his feet. He let himself be led, stumbling, through the corridors. He was in shock, he dimly realised. He. The one who had delivered the beating...
Reply
"Drink."
A cup appeared in his hand and he rinsed his mouth gratefully. Sulu's hand still rested on his back. Jim sat back, his stomach finally settled, and saw Chekov sitting on his other side with a wet cloth. Without a word, Chekov took Jim's hands and wiped at them. "Jim," Sulu said once more. "Take a shower. Do you need help?"
Jim waved them both off and they left. Jim clawed his way into a standing position, and realised that this was not his bathroom. That was not his toothpaste or razor. He grasped a towel before stripping and stepping into the sonic.
The frequencies soothed his nerves slightly, and by the time the grime and blood had been shaken off, his mind had started to stir. He stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around his waist. Sulu waited just outside the door with a set of rest clothes. He handed them over wordlessly and Jim quickly dressed.
"You all right?" Sulu asked quietly.
"I will be," Jim said honestly. Sulu held up a PADD.
"M'Benga's preliminary report. You were able to avoid most of the haemorrhaging and contusions that are usually associated with such a barbaric form of punishment. He sealed up the lacerations and right now he is working on healing the deeper wounds. Internal bleeding was kept to a minimum, and there was no vital organ damage." Sulu handed Jim the report solemnly. "You did good. Flogging can deal a great amount of damage to internal organs if the victim is struck in the wrong place."
Jim read every single word of the brief report before lowering the PADD. "How did you know what to do?" he asked hoarsely. Sulu flicked his eyes to Chekov, who instantly went to his knees with the grace of long practice.
"Pavel, bring me your least favourite toy," Sulu said, his voice taking on a completely different tone. Chekov crawled across the floor sinuously, nudging open a small box. He grasped an item between his teeth and returned with it, dropping a small silk flogger into Sulu's lap. Sulu picked it up gingerly and handed it to Jim. This was nothing like what he had held earlier that day. This was light and almost soft. "It can still do damage." Sulu's fingers trailed along the knots at the end of the tassels. "I've done my research." He took the flogger from Jim's hand and laid it on the bed. He reached out and gripped Jim's shoulder. "You saved him a world of hurt, Jim. And the way you paced yourself... One of the worst sensations during a beating is the anticipation of the next hit. The psychological trauma is almost worse than the physical. You were able to pace yourself and let him know when the next strike was coming. What was that poem?"
Jim snorted slightly. "It's from an old book. It's a poem about Bones' favourite character in the series. He told me once he memorised it as a child." His voice shook. "I figured he'd remember the whole thing subconsciously because he'd been carrying it for so long." Sulu nodded serenely, looking entirely too calm that his captain and CO was sitting beside him shaking.
"It was good. I saw him reciting it with you. It worked, Jim," Sulu said softly. "I don't want to force you, sir," Sulu said with a sly smile, "but you need to rest. McCoy isn't the only one who has had a trying day." Jim opened his mouth to protest, but Sulu cut him off with a stern look. "I know what it's like to hurt someone you love, even if it's for their own good. Trust me, Jim. You want to rest. You're no good to McCoy if you're a delirious mess. Now lay back and let us take care of you. McCoy is in good hands."
This is Kirk/McCoy, I swear. I'm getting there...
Reply
The whole thing has my heart in my throat for Jim, because... yeah.
Reply
Reply
He awoke tangled in Chekov's limbs. Sulu sat up beside them, reading a PADD, his thighs pressed comfortably against them. He must have noticed Jim's change in breathing, and glanced up. "How do you feel?" he asked softly. Chekov was still sleeping.
"Hungry," Jim admitted quietly. Sulu nodded, sliding from the bed soundlessly to approach the replicator and requested fruit.
"Can you sit up?" Sulu asked, returning to the bed with a plateful of food. Jim frowned.
"You're treating me like... like I was the one tortured," Jim choked out. Sulu sighed as he manuevered Chekov's limbs out of Jim's way, letting him sit upright.
"Jim, you've received the emotional equivalent of a torture session," Sulu said. "You had no preparation, no planning, no safeguards in place, and you were forced to strip the flesh from your best friend's back. That's not something to be taken lightly. Eat. Fruit is light and has sugars and water in it. We'll make some heavier stuff once I know you can keep this down." Jim picked at the plate he was handed. Sulu scowled at him, rounding the bed to shake Chekov awake. Chekov came to with a disgruntled mew, and blinked up at Sulu. "Help him," Sulu instructed.
Chekov pushed himself up and pulled his legs under him. He picked up a bit of melon from the plate and held it out for Jim. Jim jerked his head back, feeling ridiculous that he had to be fed, but Chekov's eyes pleaded with him, and he didn't lower the bite until Jim reluctantly opened his mouth. He accepted the first bite, and shooed Chekov when the kid tried to feed him more. There had to be some sort of policy breach regarding these actions... Hand-feeding a superior officer...
Jim finished the plate himself, resting against the wall when he was done. Sulu sat on the bed beside him, for the first time appearing hesitant. "Sir," he started, "I realise... my relationship with Pavel isn't... exactly proper in accordance with Starfleet regulations... and what I've shown you here is extremely intimate..."
"Don't worry, Sulu," Jim murmured, cutting him off. "Whatever happens in this room will stay in this room. I swear it." The look of relief on Sulu's face was heart-breaking. Did Sulu really think his captain would betray him... after taking care of him in the aftermath of such a traumatising mission? "I need to go see Bones," Jim said, his voice cutting through the silence. Sulu nodded.
"Can you walk there?" he asked.
"Yes," Jim said, slightly surprised that he had answered honestly. Sulu nodded again, sliding back on the bed. Chekov curled up against him without a word, eyes closed.
"Good luck sir. I'm here for you," Sulu murmured, one hand falling on Chekov's hair. Jim nodded and slid out of the room, still dressed in Sulu's casual-wear. He had to stop himself from running through the halls towards MedBay, because he couldn't let everyone see just how much the mission had gotten to him. He strode as swiftly as possible through the doors to MedBay, and only realised his feet were bare when they slapped against sterile tile. He glanced down, but his attention was diverted when M'Benga approached him with a slight smile.
"Forget something, sir?" he asked good-naturedly. Jim went weak with relief. If M'Benga was cracking jokes, nobody had died recently. "Doctor McCoy is in bed six, and he was asleep last I checked. I'd like to keep it that way for as long as possible."
Reply
Bones stirred, letting out a soft huff of breath as his eyes opened. He blinked, and tried to push himself up. "Shh," Jim murmured, his hand firm at Bones' shoulder. "You're still healing."
Bones sank back against the mattress with a soft sigh, eyes closing. "Jim," he rasped out, voice hoarse.
"Hey, lazy Bones," Jim murmured, sitting down in the chair beside the bed. He wrapped his fingers around Bones' limp ones, and squeezed. "How ya feelin?"
"Rough," Bones said. "Tired."
"I think that's all the drugs kicking around in your system," Jim said. "Not so much fun being on the other side, is it?" Bones grunted non-committally. Jim rubbed his thumb over Bones' knuckles. "Can I get you anything?" Jim asked. Too late. Bones was asleep again.
Jim closed his eyes and brought Bones' hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss to his fingers and holding, just breathing Bones' scent and trying to keep back thoughts about the fall-out from this mission.
Reply
"How do you feel, sir?" M'Benga asked lightly, PADD in hand.
"Like a six ton semi just ran me over," Bones grumped. Jim smiled at M'Benga's face, who obviously missed the reference. "Can I go now?"
"After I run the standard tests, sir," M'Benga said, a little too cheerfully at having his CO under his thumb. Bones rolled his eyes as M'Benga poked and prodded at the skin at his back, and then finally announced he was fit for light duty. Emphasis on light. Pointed look at Jim.
"I need a shower," Bones grumbled, sliding from the bed to climb into the civvies Jim had fetched for him.
"Sponge baths weren't a 'thing' for you?" Jim teased. Bones scowled at him as he tugged his shirt over his head haltingly. Jim resisted the urge to help him, merely held the doors as they wandered out into the bustle of the main corridor. "My pad or yours?" Jim asked as they walked towards the living quarters.
Anxiety spiked as Bones hesitated for a good, long moment before answering. "Jim, I need some time to myself," Bones finally said, accompanied by a heavy exhale. "I just got out of the hospital, I feel like I have six layers of grime on me and I'm still really tired-"
"Okay," Jim said, a bit too quickly. "Okay, that's fine. I'll swing by with dinner a little later, right?"
"Sounds like a date," Bones said with a small smile. "You better bring the booze too."
"Come on, Bones, who do you think you're talking to?" Jim watched him take the turn that would lead him to his quarters. He watched until Bones' slightly tense gait disappeared, rounding another corner, out of sight. Jim folded his arms over his chest and curled his hands into fists so tightly it hurt. Of course Bones needed time to himself. He was a solitary person, who licked his wounds in private. Loudly, and most times drunkenly, but he kept the worst injuries to himself, and that knowledge was what gathered like ice in the pit of Jim's stomach. Bones would never let on how badly he was shaken by the mission. Not to Jim, who had caused the damage.
Jim made his way back to his own quarters, sitting down to begin writing his mission report. Half of him didn't even want to go back down to that cursed planet, but the Federation had clearly been interested in a certain plant that grew only in this quadrant with special medicinal purpose. Jim felt his heart clench. Even Bones would want the negotiations to go through, after everything. Even if the price was a little skin off his back...
The familiar nausea reared its head with a vengeance, but Jim had nothing in his gut to release. He stumbled into his 'fresher and dry-heaved into the toilet, resting against the wall as he tried to gather himself. One hand gripped the PADD, a message ready to send to Sulu at the touch of a button. Jim had just decided not to send it when his door chime sang.
"Who's there?" Jim asked, surprised at the hoarseness of his own voice.
"It's Sulu, sir."
Surprise flickered through Jim. "Enter," he said, glancing at the PADD. He hadn't accidentally sent the message, it was still there on his display. "Are you psychic?" Jim asked stupidly when his Japanese pilot came into view. Sulu smirked.
"No, sir, I heard from Uhura that you looked like shit and were on your way to your rooms." He flopped onto the pristine tile of Jim's 'fresher, and rested one arm easily on a bent knee. "I sent Chekov to McCoy," Sulu started, flicking his dark eyes towards the sonic. Jim couldn't take his eyes off his pilot. "The first time we tried flogging, I hadn't done quite enough research," Sulu started, taking a deep breath. "I ended up almost rupturing one of Pavel's kidneys, and I caused some pretty bad internal bleeding. Needless to say, it was a while before we could try it again. It was a while before we could try anything again, honestly. I didn't trust myself, and Pavel couldn't trust me." Sulu rolled his head against the vanity cabinet to catch Jim's wide eyes. "I know it's not the same situation. We had preparation and planning, but you two are strong together. You'll be able to pull through."
Reply
"I had to make him comfortable being around me again," Sulu said. "Do you remember the day you reprimanded him for leaping out of his seat when I reached over the console?" Jim nodded. The kid had spilled water all over sensitive equipment and Jim had sent him to his quarters to take the rest of the day off. "That was a few days after. I let him take the lead on everything, which you can understand was quite difficult for him. My advice is be patient. Don't force anything. Let McCoy come to you. If he doesn't want you to talk, don't talk. If he doesn't want you to stand behind him, stand where he can see you."
Jim nodded. A companionable silence fell over them both, one that was surprisingly comfortable. "So... how did you two... uh, meet, I suppose?" Jim asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Sulu smirked.
"Funny story, that one. It was quite accidental..."
A few easy hours later, Sulu's PADD pinged. He glanced at it. "McCoy's asking for you," he said succinctly. "You up for it?" Jim nodded.
"Thanks, Sulu," he said, standing. Sulu nodded, pushing a hand through his short, dark hair.
"I wouldn't wish what happened to us on anyone," Sulu said quietly. "But I know you two are strong. You'll be all right." Jim smiled weakly. "If you want Chekov to stay, just look him in the eye and say 'Ugokuna'. He'll know I want you to stay."
Jim paused. "Should I be concerned about conflict of interests regarding following orders?" he asked. Sulu shook his head.
"Our rules are pretty strict. If we're inside any of the crew's living quarters, I am in command. As soon as we cross that threshold to enter the ship proper, Starfleet hierarchy has precedence," Sulu said. "That includes the corridors in the living quarters." Jim nodded pensively.
"Very well thought out, Sulu," Jim commended. Sulu smiled wryly.
"Thank you, sir." Sulu was still smirking at him as Jim lurched out of his room, moving with restrained speed towards his CMO's quarters.
Sorry about the bastardised Japanese. If it's wrong let me know, haha! I can't change it but I will know for next time.
Reply
"It's all right," Bones said gruffly, looking slightly tense but determined. Jim glanced at Chekov, who grinned and soundlessly departed. Jim would have to corner Sulu and get details from him once this whole mess was over. Jim sat down at the table across from Bones as the door slid shut with the soft hiss of hydraulics. Silence loomed.
"I'm sorry," Jim burst out, the words forced through in a breathless rush before he could change his mind. "I'm sorry. I didn't- I couldn't think of another way... I should have- I should have offered myself, done something different-"
Jim dimly registered the sound of a chair clattering to the ground as Bones' arms went around him. Jim choked himself off with great effort, twisting his hands in the front of Bones' shirt. " 's all right, Jim," Bones murmured, voice rough. "They woulda killed the crew. Chekov and Sulu and McGuiggan would be dead now if you hadn't acted. Hell, I'd be dead now if you hadn't acted. You got us all out with less than a two day trip to MedBay. I'd say that's pretty damn impressive." Bones' arms tightened around him, one hand tangling in his hair, holding his head close against Bones' chest. Jim could hear the rapid thunder of Bones' heart under healthy flesh, and squashed his nose to Bones' shirt, trying to get closer. Bones was alive. He was alive, relatively unharmed, and alive. "Chekov told me you were able to keep the damage to a minimum," Bones said, his voice loud in Jim's ear, pressed to his chest.
"Sulu," Jim muttered. "Told me what to do." Bones' hand drifted through Jim's hair. Jim protested slightly as Bones loosed his hold, pulling away to kneel stiffly between Jim's legs. Jim stared at him miserably as Bones gripped both his hands.
"It's all right, Jim," Bones said again, voice low and even. He met Jim's eyes, and Jim had a hard time breathing. "I know you did what you had to. You know I'd willingly do it again, to keep the rest of the crew safe." Jim nodded. "Are you all right?"
Jim let out an incredulous huff. "Why does everyone keep asking me that!? You were the one laid up in MedBay for two days!" Bones' eyes hardened, and his grip on Jim's fingers grew almost painful.
"Damage isn't only physical, Jim," Bones reminded him quietly. Jim gently freed one of his hands to touch his fingers to Bones' jaw. Bones closed his eyes, and under the pads of Jim's fingers he could feel jaw muscles clenching, tight little spasms wherever he brushed. His entire body trembled with the effort of holding himself still under Jim's touch. Jim jerked his hand back as if stung, and when Bones opened his eyes he couldn't bring himself to look at Jim.
"Damage isn't only physical," Jim repeated, breathing harshly past the hurt pooling in his gut. "What can I do?" he asked, hating that his voice pitched with desperation. "Bones?"
"I know logically that you'd never hurt me, Jim," Bones said, voice breaking around the sentence. "My body just needs to relearn that. There's a reason it's called an irrational fear."
"It's not irrational if there's experiences to compliment the psychological," Jim said quietly. Bones glared at him.
"Fer chrissake, Jim," he growled before reaching out with both hands and gripping Jim's face firmly. He drew him close, smashing their mouths together inelegantly. Jim almost whimpered, fighting hard the instinct to reach up and grab Bones back. He wrapped his hands around the seat of the chair so hard his fingers hurt, focusing on the warmth of Bones' lips on his. Bones pulled back. "I love you."
Reply
Leave a comment