[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."
"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
Leave a comment