Starship captains weren’t really supposed to take a day off. Then again, Jim had never been conventional. Which was why he’d taken the day after Len was released from his own Sickbay two days after his dual surgeries, mostly because of his slight fever (it had happened toward the evening, or what passed for it, on a starship) and decided that the cartography department could use a little more time to map out this section of the quadrant, in case there was something anyone might have previously missed, and figured Spock could hold down the fort. And it was as good a chance as any for Jim to get caught up on reading some back reports that had filtered in from Engineering (concerning their latest “accident”) and the Science Department.
He sat with his back to the wall at the head of the bed, Len situated with his back to Jim’s front between Jim’s legs, one hand holding a PADD and the other under the flannel button-down, palm flat against Len’s abs. Len had found a comfortable spot for his head, face turned toward Jim’s neck, that didn’t put pressure on his cheeks, and was still sleeping after his latest round of hypos - a painkiller/fever reducer and a vitamin supplement, since M’Benga hadn’t liked some of the readings from his latest scan. Which made sense, due to the fact that Len wasn’t one to eat when he didn’t feel well. Considering he couldn’t have anything remotely solid, he was a little cranky. That coupled with pain and the fact that he wasn’t supposed to speak yet in order to not aggravate his throat, made for one not-so-happy camper.
Truthfully, Len was downright miserable. And he’d been that way since the middle of his second day on a biobed in Sickbay.
Which was one more reason that Jim was taking the time to sit with him, read to him, watch vids with him, and rub his belly when it tried to throw up the nutrient-boosted strawberry smoothies M’Benga insist he drink for meals. Chocolate ice cream was much better accepted, but Geoff couldn’t doctor it the way that Len needed it, and since he wasn’t getting any vegetables or solids, he was a little deficient. Jim had tried one of the smoothies, and while it wasn’t bad, it wasn’t something he’d want to eat three times a day in place of pasta or a steak.
Len shifted a bit; Jim kissed the thick hair inches from his chin and his hand started big, warm circles on Len’s clenching stomach. A wet patch was growing on Jim’s collar, and he belatedly realized he’d missed covering a spot with the towel tucked into Len’s front. Oh. Well. It was just drool, and Jim wasn’t afraid of some bodily fluid, especially if it meant that it was on his shirt rather than running down the back of Len’s throat to churn in his already shaky stomach. Jim was fine with that.
Len tried to burrow further into the warmth of Jim’s body, and Jim knew he was awake when his hands fumbled into his lap, one sliding up to hook his fingers with Jim’s.
“Hi, Bones,” Jim said softly into the dark hair, nuzzling the top of Len’s head with his chin. There was more shifting and burrowing, Len turned onto one side and wrapped his free arm around Jim’s middle as best he could. “You hungry?”
Shoulders hunched up defensively. Jim squeezed Len’s fingers, assurance that he wouldn’t make him eat that horrid smoothie. Least not at that moment.
Len freed his other hand and wrapped it around Jim like he was trying to hug him, going boneless against Jim once more. He was still awake, though - Jim could tell from the minute way that his head moved every so often.
“Do you want me to read to you?”
P-L-S was finger-traced into the small of his back, and it took a little fumbling for Jim to get what he wanted up on the PADD with only one hand. He had to lean it on Len’s shoulder for a moment to get his glasses, and he cleared his throat when he was ready. Jim wrapped both legs around Len’s, caging him with his body.
“Never give all the heart, for love will hardly seem worth thinking,” Jim began, reading Never Give All the Heart by Yeats. His fingers crept up the back of the flannel shirt again, stroking over the smooth skin of Len’s spine and lower back.
Len, from his position against Jim’s chest, figured there could be worse ways to spend time so miserable.
OP loves! Re: Fill! (4/4)
anonymous
June 23 2010, 04:17:43 UTC
Thank you so, so much! <3 I loved it! (And I wish when *I* was wishing for a merciful death post wisdom teeth removal, I'd had Jim there to comfort me. :) )
He sat with his back to the wall at the head of the bed, Len situated with his back to Jim’s front between Jim’s legs, one hand holding a PADD and the other under the flannel button-down, palm flat against Len’s abs. Len had found a comfortable spot for his head, face turned toward Jim’s neck, that didn’t put pressure on his cheeks, and was still sleeping after his latest round of hypos - a painkiller/fever reducer and a vitamin supplement, since M’Benga hadn’t liked some of the readings from his latest scan. Which made sense, due to the fact that Len wasn’t one to eat when he didn’t feel well. Considering he couldn’t have anything remotely solid, he was a little cranky. That coupled with pain and the fact that he wasn’t supposed to speak yet in order to not aggravate his throat, made for one not-so-happy camper.
Truthfully, Len was downright miserable. And he’d been that way since the middle of his second day on a biobed in Sickbay.
Which was one more reason that Jim was taking the time to sit with him, read to him, watch vids with him, and rub his belly when it tried to throw up the nutrient-boosted strawberry smoothies M’Benga insist he drink for meals. Chocolate ice cream was much better accepted, but Geoff couldn’t doctor it the way that Len needed it, and since he wasn’t getting any vegetables or solids, he was a little deficient. Jim had tried one of the smoothies, and while it wasn’t bad, it wasn’t something he’d want to eat three times a day in place of pasta or a steak.
Len shifted a bit; Jim kissed the thick hair inches from his chin and his hand started big, warm circles on Len’s clenching stomach. A wet patch was growing on Jim’s collar, and he belatedly realized he’d missed covering a spot with the towel tucked into Len’s front. Oh. Well. It was just drool, and Jim wasn’t afraid of some bodily fluid, especially if it meant that it was on his shirt rather than running down the back of Len’s throat to churn in his already shaky stomach. Jim was fine with that.
Len tried to burrow further into the warmth of Jim’s body, and Jim knew he was awake when his hands fumbled into his lap, one sliding up to hook his fingers with Jim’s.
“Hi, Bones,” Jim said softly into the dark hair, nuzzling the top of Len’s head with his chin. There was more shifting and burrowing, Len turned onto one side and wrapped his free arm around Jim’s middle as best he could. “You hungry?”
Shoulders hunched up defensively. Jim squeezed Len’s fingers, assurance that he wouldn’t make him eat that horrid smoothie. Least not at that moment.
Len freed his other hand and wrapped it around Jim like he was trying to hug him, going boneless against Jim once more. He was still awake, though - Jim could tell from the minute way that his head moved every so often.
“Do you want me to read to you?”
P-L-S was finger-traced into the small of his back, and it took a little fumbling for Jim to get what he wanted up on the PADD with only one hand. He had to lean it on Len’s shoulder for a moment to get his glasses, and he cleared his throat when he was ready. Jim wrapped both legs around Len’s, caging him with his body.
“Never give all the heart, for love will hardly seem worth thinking,” Jim began, reading Never Give All the Heart by Yeats. His fingers crept up the back of the flannel shirt again, stroking over the smooth skin of Len’s spine and lower back.
Len, from his position against Jim’s chest, figured there could be worse ways to spend time so miserable.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment