Put a dollar down... (AU rp for drlmccoy)
Who: Jim Kirk, Leonard McCoy, Various NPCs
What: A very different Kirk, meets a distinctly darker McCoy
When: Sometime before McCoy joins Starfleet
Where: Iowa
Warnings: based on this. Will include some abuse, some rentboy!kirk and some graphic m/m sex. Don't like? don't read.
He didn't think it was exactly what his father had in mind for his future. After all, he was the second son of the infamous George Kirk, captain of a starship for twelve minutes, gave his life to save over eight hundred people, and blah blah blah he'd heard it all before. What the text books and the glorified stories didn't include was the fact that after George Kirk had been so noble he'd left a wife who was more walking dead than alive, and who grew to hate the son that looked just like her late husband more every day. As a kid, he didn't understand why the older he got, the more time she spent off-planet, but later, when he cared, he realized while looking through some old pictures that he looked just like a younger George. Had to have been hard on her. The stories of George Kirk's glorious legacy didn't find it appropriate to mention Frank, the replacement-father that Winona had found to raise her boys while she ran away from her problems and got herself killed on some mission to some planet or another. Jim didn't care. Space was space, and he didn't belong there. After what it did to his parents, he was pretty sure no one did.
Yeah, those stories sure didn't include the way that Frank took out the fact that he was saddled with two brats that weren't his own, one 13 and one old enough to get out. Jim had never really forgiven Jonnie for that either. He left him, with a mean old man who liked to drink until he started hitting, and liked to fuck whatever was available. And if it was his then-thirteen year-old step-son, well, he didn't seem to mind. So of course Jim acted out, what other options did he have? Be beat, be fucked or try to fuckin fight back. And of course, being a kid, what options did he have to hurt someone as big as Frank? Well, he could drive that prized car off a goddamned cliff is what he could do. He could throw himself into every kind of hairbrained, crazy, over the top stunt that was offered to him, because maybe if he got hurt bad enough, he could escape the world he was in. Never seemed to happen though, Frank always seemed to find him, always used him as a piece of ass. Even after one reckless stunt with a motorbike had left Jim half-dead in the hospital on his 16th birthday, no, his mouth was mostly unharmed, so, what the hell, he could still get on his knees, couldn't he?
The day he turned 17 was the day he walked out of Frank's house forever. He stole the bastard's motorbike and took to the road the same direction Jonnie had 4 years earlier. And he wasn't stupid, he'd driven to the other side of Iowa, and then sold the bike first chance he got. But the money from the old thing only held him over for so long, and he was going to have to get a real job somehow, but his nature to get into trouble wherever he went soon made him not the kind to hire. Poor, and with only drink to soothe him, well, when one of the regular patrons offered him 50 credits to suck his dick, he figured it couldn't hurt. After all, he'd had plenty of practice.
Three years later and Jim Kirk was the whore that mothers could be proud of. Well, not his mother because she'd fucking died or any respectable woman, but fuck, he knew what he was doing, and he did it well, and for a good deal of money. A good deal of money. Didn't matter to him that he'd drop trou for anyone with enough credits, because he was ready and willing and most often smart enough to stay out of trouble. At least, trouble that he didn't want. The bar tender kept him supplied with his booze for free, because more often than not, he returned some sated and thirsty people to their stools, and really, it worked out for everyone. He wasn't hungry anymore, he wasn't Frank's anymore, and he was damn good at what he did. And it just so happened to be his favorite fucking time of the year. Just before starfleet recruitment. All those bustling, eager souls wandering into town with their pockets bulging with credits, either because they had some time on leave, or because they were just about to join and thought they had to burn it all, well, it just meant that business was good. Not to mention so many of those military types were all repressed and had their kinks locked so fuckin' deep it took someone like Jim to bring them out. Oh, and he did. It was his own personal fuck. you. to George and Winona Kirk. Sabotaging the thing they loved more than their own kid from the inside out. Who would have known the do-gooders where the dirtiest fuckin' type?
So he grinned, tossed back another shot of something - he didn't ask questions anymore - and moved to the packed dance floor. There weren't many cadets yet, but there were a few, and some of them, like this pretty blonde thing, were already looking for a bit of fun. Intent as he was on getting his dinner ticket for the evening, he didn't notice the pair of dark eyes, attached to the deliciously handsome southern man that seemed to track his every move.
What: A very different Kirk, meets a distinctly darker McCoy
When: Sometime before McCoy joins Starfleet
Where: Iowa
Warnings: based on this. Will include some abuse, some rentboy!kirk and some graphic m/m sex. Don't like? don't read.
He didn't think it was exactly what his father had in mind for his future. After all, he was the second son of the infamous George Kirk, captain of a starship for twelve minutes, gave his life to save over eight hundred people, and blah blah blah he'd heard it all before. What the text books and the glorified stories didn't include was the fact that after George Kirk had been so noble he'd left a wife who was more walking dead than alive, and who grew to hate the son that looked just like her late husband more every day. As a kid, he didn't understand why the older he got, the more time she spent off-planet, but later, when he cared, he realized while looking through some old pictures that he looked just like a younger George. Had to have been hard on her. The stories of George Kirk's glorious legacy didn't find it appropriate to mention Frank, the replacement-father that Winona had found to raise her boys while she ran away from her problems and got herself killed on some mission to some planet or another. Jim didn't care. Space was space, and he didn't belong there. After what it did to his parents, he was pretty sure no one did.
Yeah, those stories sure didn't include the way that Frank took out the fact that he was saddled with two brats that weren't his own, one 13 and one old enough to get out. Jim had never really forgiven Jonnie for that either. He left him, with a mean old man who liked to drink until he started hitting, and liked to fuck whatever was available. And if it was his then-thirteen year-old step-son, well, he didn't seem to mind. So of course Jim acted out, what other options did he have? Be beat, be fucked or try to fuckin fight back. And of course, being a kid, what options did he have to hurt someone as big as Frank? Well, he could drive that prized car off a goddamned cliff is what he could do. He could throw himself into every kind of hairbrained, crazy, over the top stunt that was offered to him, because maybe if he got hurt bad enough, he could escape the world he was in. Never seemed to happen though, Frank always seemed to find him, always used him as a piece of ass. Even after one reckless stunt with a motorbike had left Jim half-dead in the hospital on his 16th birthday, no, his mouth was mostly unharmed, so, what the hell, he could still get on his knees, couldn't he?
The day he turned 17 was the day he walked out of Frank's house forever. He stole the bastard's motorbike and took to the road the same direction Jonnie had 4 years earlier. And he wasn't stupid, he'd driven to the other side of Iowa, and then sold the bike first chance he got. But the money from the old thing only held him over for so long, and he was going to have to get a real job somehow, but his nature to get into trouble wherever he went soon made him not the kind to hire. Poor, and with only drink to soothe him, well, when one of the regular patrons offered him 50 credits to suck his dick, he figured it couldn't hurt. After all, he'd had plenty of practice.
Three years later and Jim Kirk was the whore that mothers could be proud of. Well, not his mother because she'd fucking died or any respectable woman, but fuck, he knew what he was doing, and he did it well, and for a good deal of money. A good deal of money. Didn't matter to him that he'd drop trou for anyone with enough credits, because he was ready and willing and most often smart enough to stay out of trouble. At least, trouble that he didn't want. The bar tender kept him supplied with his booze for free, because more often than not, he returned some sated and thirsty people to their stools, and really, it worked out for everyone. He wasn't hungry anymore, he wasn't Frank's anymore, and he was damn good at what he did. And it just so happened to be his favorite fucking time of the year. Just before starfleet recruitment. All those bustling, eager souls wandering into town with their pockets bulging with credits, either because they had some time on leave, or because they were just about to join and thought they had to burn it all, well, it just meant that business was good. Not to mention so many of those military types were all repressed and had their kinks locked so fuckin' deep it took someone like Jim to bring them out. Oh, and he did. It was his own personal fuck. you. to George and Winona Kirk. Sabotaging the thing they loved more than their own kid from the inside out. Who would have known the do-gooders where the dirtiest fuckin' type?
So he grinned, tossed back another shot of something - he didn't ask questions anymore - and moved to the packed dance floor. There weren't many cadets yet, but there were a few, and some of them, like this pretty blonde thing, were already looking for a bit of fun. Intent as he was on getting his dinner ticket for the evening, he didn't notice the pair of dark eyes, attached to the deliciously handsome southern man that seemed to track his every move.