Unexpected Consequences (3/?)
Title: Unexpected Consequences (3/?)
Author: crazywriter10
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: R
Warning: Slash, MPreg
Disclaimer: Not mine, I'll return them when I'm done.
Summary: Sex on another planet leaves Jim and Bones with some unexpected consequences.
Author's Notes: Erm..so...I'm just kinda flyin' by the seat of my pants about what happens during pregnancy. If I get something horribly, horribly wrong, someone please let me know. Oh, and more fluff. And this really should be the last of puking!Bones (Can I say that like that?) I've also probably had too much coffee today....
Jim started to notice the slight changes about six weeks in. They were small changes, but he knew Bones’ body like he knew his own, and there was no way not to notice.
Bones was softening.
Not his personality, as that would have been a little unnerving (and was still probably going to happen as a result of his haywire hormones, somewhere down the line) but his body. His face was filling out a little, along with his abdomen (which Jim had always been a fan of) losing some of its definition.
Jim loves Bones for Bones. The smokin’ body was simply icing on the cake. Make that a smokin’ body incubating his baby and Jim was having some serious issues keeping it in his pants. Especially because they hadn’t yet told the rest of the crew what was going on. Bones was naturally a private person. It stood to reason that this part of their life would be consistent with that. To a point.
They’d have to come clean once Bones really started to show.
Until then, Jim was content to keep it within the family, so to speak. Not that the crew wasn’t family in a way, but it would be soon enough that they would have to share. They’d worry about that when Bones got the point that he’d looked like he’d seriously gained weight and stopped working out.
Jim was dragged a little out of his early-morning musings when Bones shifted in his arms, reaching over the edge of the bed.
Probably going for the trashcan, Jim thought. M’Benga had said that this was morning sickness. Bones had snapped something about morning sickness being confined to the morning, not all freakin’ day, and then hurried to the nearest bathroom.
Jim pressed a kiss to the vulnerable spot at the back of McCoy’s neck.
“Not a fuckin’ word, James,” Bones growled, frustration coloring his voice. He tilted his head back onto Jim’s shoulder, swallowing almost continuously as though that would help keep everything where it was supposed to be.
Kirk, as requested, didn’t say a word, but slipped his hand around to Bones’ front, rubbing slow circles on his stomach. Bones was still wound, almost panting, so he slipped his hand lower, fingers dipping under the waistband of McCoy’s boxers. Jim lay his palm flat, his pinky barely brushing the top of Bones’ pubic hair, and his thumb slowly rubbing across the skin just below his navel.
About ten seconds in McCoy sagged bonelessly against Jim.
“There we go,” Kirk murmured as Bones’ breathing evened out. “Stop givin’ your dad a hard time, yeah?” He was talking more to the baby but the cadence in his voice was effectively putting his lover back to sleep. Which was what Bones needed, now more than anything. Hopefully this would stave off another bout of morning sickness later, when they absolutely needed to get up.
Men were not meant to be pregnant, Bones thought as he dipped a carrot stick into a small side cup of barbecue sauce. Between the need to eat weird shit and feeling distinctly over-emotional (he’d almost cried when in frustration at not being able to find his favorite hypo and then whacking his arm on the desk) it was almost overwhelming.
The lift opened onto the bridge. He stepped out, munching dutifully on his carrot sticks. M’Benga said he should eat more vegetables (which Bones had concluded himself, as well, he wasn’t the CMO simply because he was sleeping with the captain, not that anyone cared about that, either) so he was eating more vegetables. He just had to…doctor them.
The thought almost made him giggle aloud.
Jim sat in his chair, elbows on his knees, staring intently at a PADD. He looked up and over at Bones on approach, smiling until he noticed what exactly Bones was eating.
“Carrots and barbecue sauce?” Jim asked, eyebrows heading for his hairline and stomach cringing.
Bones shrugged. “I needed more vegetables.” His glare told Jim, I love you, but shut the hell up about how I eat my veggies.
Jim wisely let it go. Instead, he chose to look at his lover, really look at him. McCoy’s cheeks looked a little fuller, a little redder. His hair looked a little more touseled, not quite like Jim had just run his fingers through for a handhold when they had sex, but something…less extreme than that. It was a good look for him.
And there was this…glow, around him. Barely there, but still noticeable, if you looked hard enough.
Pregnancy is going to suit him, Jim thought, content to look his fill in the silence that had descended over the pair of them. Though they were on the bridge, it felt like it was just the two of them. Not that I’ll ever tell him that, I like my balls where they are.
“What?” Bones demanded, eyes narrowing, suddenly wondering if eating carrots with barbecue sauce had been a good idea.
Jim stood, placing the PADD in his chair, and stepping into McCoy’s personal space. He tried to keep from his mind that, in a few months, he wouldn’t be able to get that close to Bones from the front…he shivered. Damn the fact that Bones looked good enough to eat. “I love you,” he said softly.
Bones smiled, blinking rapidly and telling himself that this was not worth getting teared up for, Jim said I love you every day in a number of little ways, and every night in their bed, in both words and actions.
“Fuckin’ hormones,” Bones growled, scrubbing at his eyes. He glared at Jim’s grin. “Shut it.” Which was, of course, Bone-speak for, I love you, too. “You wanna get some lunch?”
“You just had barbecue carrot sticks,” Jim said. If looks could kill, he’d be dead. And with the lingering wetness in Bones’ hazel eyes, he hastily added, “Lunch sounds great.” And if he kept a slightly possessive hand on the small of Bones’ back on the way to lift, nobody gave them so much as a sidelong glance.
And if Jim’s prediction that barbecue sauce and carrot sticks didn’t mix came true, well..in the interest of every possibly procreating again, he wisely kept both his mouth shut and his hand rubbing circles on Bones back, all while making a point to ask M’Benga how long morning sickness was supposed to last. Out of earshot of Bones, of course. He really liked his balls where they were.
Author: crazywriter10
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: R
Warning: Slash, MPreg
Disclaimer: Not mine, I'll return them when I'm done.
Summary: Sex on another planet leaves Jim and Bones with some unexpected consequences.
Author's Notes: Erm..so...I'm just kinda flyin' by the seat of my pants about what happens during pregnancy. If I get something horribly, horribly wrong, someone please let me know. Oh, and more fluff. And this really should be the last of puking!Bones (Can I say that like that?) I've also probably had too much coffee today....
Jim started to notice the slight changes about six weeks in. They were small changes, but he knew Bones’ body like he knew his own, and there was no way not to notice.
Bones was softening.
Not his personality, as that would have been a little unnerving (and was still probably going to happen as a result of his haywire hormones, somewhere down the line) but his body. His face was filling out a little, along with his abdomen (which Jim had always been a fan of) losing some of its definition.
Jim loves Bones for Bones. The smokin’ body was simply icing on the cake. Make that a smokin’ body incubating his baby and Jim was having some serious issues keeping it in his pants. Especially because they hadn’t yet told the rest of the crew what was going on. Bones was naturally a private person. It stood to reason that this part of their life would be consistent with that. To a point.
They’d have to come clean once Bones really started to show.
Until then, Jim was content to keep it within the family, so to speak. Not that the crew wasn’t family in a way, but it would be soon enough that they would have to share. They’d worry about that when Bones got the point that he’d looked like he’d seriously gained weight and stopped working out.
Jim was dragged a little out of his early-morning musings when Bones shifted in his arms, reaching over the edge of the bed.
Probably going for the trashcan, Jim thought. M’Benga had said that this was morning sickness. Bones had snapped something about morning sickness being confined to the morning, not all freakin’ day, and then hurried to the nearest bathroom.
Jim pressed a kiss to the vulnerable spot at the back of McCoy’s neck.
“Not a fuckin’ word, James,” Bones growled, frustration coloring his voice. He tilted his head back onto Jim’s shoulder, swallowing almost continuously as though that would help keep everything where it was supposed to be.
Kirk, as requested, didn’t say a word, but slipped his hand around to Bones’ front, rubbing slow circles on his stomach. Bones was still wound, almost panting, so he slipped his hand lower, fingers dipping under the waistband of McCoy’s boxers. Jim lay his palm flat, his pinky barely brushing the top of Bones’ pubic hair, and his thumb slowly rubbing across the skin just below his navel.
About ten seconds in McCoy sagged bonelessly against Jim.
“There we go,” Kirk murmured as Bones’ breathing evened out. “Stop givin’ your dad a hard time, yeah?” He was talking more to the baby but the cadence in his voice was effectively putting his lover back to sleep. Which was what Bones needed, now more than anything. Hopefully this would stave off another bout of morning sickness later, when they absolutely needed to get up.
Men were not meant to be pregnant, Bones thought as he dipped a carrot stick into a small side cup of barbecue sauce. Between the need to eat weird shit and feeling distinctly over-emotional (he’d almost cried when in frustration at not being able to find his favorite hypo and then whacking his arm on the desk) it was almost overwhelming.
The lift opened onto the bridge. He stepped out, munching dutifully on his carrot sticks. M’Benga said he should eat more vegetables (which Bones had concluded himself, as well, he wasn’t the CMO simply because he was sleeping with the captain, not that anyone cared about that, either) so he was eating more vegetables. He just had to…doctor them.
The thought almost made him giggle aloud.
Jim sat in his chair, elbows on his knees, staring intently at a PADD. He looked up and over at Bones on approach, smiling until he noticed what exactly Bones was eating.
“Carrots and barbecue sauce?” Jim asked, eyebrows heading for his hairline and stomach cringing.
Bones shrugged. “I needed more vegetables.” His glare told Jim, I love you, but shut the hell up about how I eat my veggies.
Jim wisely let it go. Instead, he chose to look at his lover, really look at him. McCoy’s cheeks looked a little fuller, a little redder. His hair looked a little more touseled, not quite like Jim had just run his fingers through for a handhold when they had sex, but something…less extreme than that. It was a good look for him.
And there was this…glow, around him. Barely there, but still noticeable, if you looked hard enough.
Pregnancy is going to suit him, Jim thought, content to look his fill in the silence that had descended over the pair of them. Though they were on the bridge, it felt like it was just the two of them. Not that I’ll ever tell him that, I like my balls where they are.
“What?” Bones demanded, eyes narrowing, suddenly wondering if eating carrots with barbecue sauce had been a good idea.
Jim stood, placing the PADD in his chair, and stepping into McCoy’s personal space. He tried to keep from his mind that, in a few months, he wouldn’t be able to get that close to Bones from the front…he shivered. Damn the fact that Bones looked good enough to eat. “I love you,” he said softly.
Bones smiled, blinking rapidly and telling himself that this was not worth getting teared up for, Jim said I love you every day in a number of little ways, and every night in their bed, in both words and actions.
“Fuckin’ hormones,” Bones growled, scrubbing at his eyes. He glared at Jim’s grin. “Shut it.” Which was, of course, Bone-speak for, I love you, too. “You wanna get some lunch?”
“You just had barbecue carrot sticks,” Jim said. If looks could kill, he’d be dead. And with the lingering wetness in Bones’ hazel eyes, he hastily added, “Lunch sounds great.” And if he kept a slightly possessive hand on the small of Bones’ back on the way to lift, nobody gave them so much as a sidelong glance.
And if Jim’s prediction that barbecue sauce and carrot sticks didn’t mix came true, well..in the interest of every possibly procreating again, he wisely kept both his mouth shut and his hand rubbing circles on Bones back, all while making a point to ask M’Benga how long morning sickness was supposed to last. Out of earshot of Bones, of course. He really liked his balls where they were.