Fic: Matters of Survival
Title: Matters of Survival
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for language. And crack. Very much crack.
Word Count: 637
Characters: Kirk/Bones
Prompt: From here at st_xi_kink: Kirk/any, Kirk gets breasts. Just breasts, no other change.
Summary: Bones finally gets Jim back for all the teasing he's been forced to endure over the years.
James T. Kirk was no coward. Just ask anyone who went through the whole Vulcan-destroyed-let's-save-Earth thing. Oh, sure, he'd run from the ice monsters, but anyone who wanted to stay alive would have run from them. It was survival, not cowardice. And in matters of survival, running and hiding were perfectly reasonable responses.
So if A = B, and B = C, then A = C, right?
"Jim, get out of there!" A very irate Bones pounded on the door to Jim's quarters, while Jim very manfully and definitely not cravenly hid within them, the door locked. This was about survival, he reminded himself. He would never survive the wisecracks, teasing, and endless jokes that would come about if anyone, especially his best friend and oft-times lover, saw him now.
Jim looked down at himself, and the very pronounced additions something on the most recent away mission had caused, and groaned quietly. Breasts. Perfect, beautiful breasts that he would have loved to leer at on any woman but on himself made him feel very weird and vaguely sick.
"I heard that, Jim! Let me in before you die or whatever this latest fiasco has made happen."
"Go away, Bones! It's nothing life threatening," Jim replied, sounding rather more like a sulking child than usual.
"I'll break down the damn door, Jimmy m'boy," came the threat in response. If he knew Bones, and he did, the man would find a way to do just that, despite the fact that the alloy of metal was quite strong.
Jim sighed, pouted, and did not move from his spot across the room, as far from the door as he could get while he glared at it.
The door hissed open only a moment later, much to his dismay. "Or I'll just have Spock override it," Bones said smugly as he stepped inside. Oh, he could have done it, but it was so much more fun to involve Spock in this. His smirk disappeared as his jaw dropped at what he saw.
Jim crossed his arms defensively over the brand new set of breasts, which were more than healthily proportioned and strained the uniform shirt he wore, since his was, of course, designed for men.
"Shut up. Not a. Single. Word."
"Wow, Jim, that's quite a rack you got there." Bones' eyes seemed glued to his chest.
"Helloooo, Bones, my eyes are up here," Jim found himself saying. Inside, he cringed and made a mental note to change his ogling ways. He guessed it did kind of suck, which was probably the revelation that had been intended for him. "Can you at least make them go away?"
Bones did briefly meet his eyes before leering slightly again. "I thought you liked breasts." Jim sighed. "Tits." Twitched. "Boobs. Hooters."
"Fuck you," Jim retorted, shouldering past him as he stalked toward sickbay, arms still crossed protectively across his chest.
"Jugs. Knockers. Melons." Bones followed him, clearly delighted in riling up his captain and friend.
"I'll make you attend a sensitivity seminar," Jim threatened, glaring death threats at the few people he passed. They simply gaped and had the sense to not let a word spill past their lips while he could hear them.
"Ninnies. Ta-tas."
Jim finally whirled around and pushed Bones back against the wall, trapping him there with a strong and still manly arm on either side of him. The effect was softened by the fact that his breasts pressed lightly against McCoy's chest. "Shut up, Bones," he growled. "And maybe, just maybe, I'll let you play with them before you make them go. Away."
"So you'll let me play with your drums, then?" Bones was even more irrepressible at the moment than Jim usually was at the moment.
Jim snarled soundlessly and cursed extensively the rest of the way to Sick Bay. See if Bones got any from him for awhile, the bastard... He wondered briefly if Starfleet would consider him murdering the doctor a matter of self defense or survival...
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for language. And crack. Very much crack.
Word Count: 637
Characters: Kirk/Bones
Prompt: From here at st_xi_kink: Kirk/any, Kirk gets breasts. Just breasts, no other change.
Summary: Bones finally gets Jim back for all the teasing he's been forced to endure over the years.
James T. Kirk was no coward. Just ask anyone who went through the whole Vulcan-destroyed-let's-save-Earth thing. Oh, sure, he'd run from the ice monsters, but anyone who wanted to stay alive would have run from them. It was survival, not cowardice. And in matters of survival, running and hiding were perfectly reasonable responses.
So if A = B, and B = C, then A = C, right?
"Jim, get out of there!" A very irate Bones pounded on the door to Jim's quarters, while Jim very manfully and definitely not cravenly hid within them, the door locked. This was about survival, he reminded himself. He would never survive the wisecracks, teasing, and endless jokes that would come about if anyone, especially his best friend and oft-times lover, saw him now.
Jim looked down at himself, and the very pronounced additions something on the most recent away mission had caused, and groaned quietly. Breasts. Perfect, beautiful breasts that he would have loved to leer at on any woman but on himself made him feel very weird and vaguely sick.
"I heard that, Jim! Let me in before you die or whatever this latest fiasco has made happen."
"Go away, Bones! It's nothing life threatening," Jim replied, sounding rather more like a sulking child than usual.
"I'll break down the damn door, Jimmy m'boy," came the threat in response. If he knew Bones, and he did, the man would find a way to do just that, despite the fact that the alloy of metal was quite strong.
Jim sighed, pouted, and did not move from his spot across the room, as far from the door as he could get while he glared at it.
The door hissed open only a moment later, much to his dismay. "Or I'll just have Spock override it," Bones said smugly as he stepped inside. Oh, he could have done it, but it was so much more fun to involve Spock in this. His smirk disappeared as his jaw dropped at what he saw.
Jim crossed his arms defensively over the brand new set of breasts, which were more than healthily proportioned and strained the uniform shirt he wore, since his was, of course, designed for men.
"Shut up. Not a. Single. Word."
"Wow, Jim, that's quite a rack you got there." Bones' eyes seemed glued to his chest.
"Helloooo, Bones, my eyes are up here," Jim found himself saying. Inside, he cringed and made a mental note to change his ogling ways. He guessed it did kind of suck, which was probably the revelation that had been intended for him. "Can you at least make them go away?"
Bones did briefly meet his eyes before leering slightly again. "I thought you liked breasts." Jim sighed. "Tits." Twitched. "Boobs. Hooters."
"Fuck you," Jim retorted, shouldering past him as he stalked toward sickbay, arms still crossed protectively across his chest.
"Jugs. Knockers. Melons." Bones followed him, clearly delighted in riling up his captain and friend.
"I'll make you attend a sensitivity seminar," Jim threatened, glaring death threats at the few people he passed. They simply gaped and had the sense to not let a word spill past their lips while he could hear them.
"Ninnies. Ta-tas."
Jim finally whirled around and pushed Bones back against the wall, trapping him there with a strong and still manly arm on either side of him. The effect was softened by the fact that his breasts pressed lightly against McCoy's chest. "Shut up, Bones," he growled. "And maybe, just maybe, I'll let you play with them before you make them go. Away."
"So you'll let me play with your drums, then?" Bones was even more irrepressible at the moment than Jim usually was at the moment.
Jim snarled soundlessly and cursed extensively the rest of the way to Sick Bay. See if Bones got any from him for awhile, the bastard... He wondered briefly if Starfleet would consider him murdering the doctor a matter of self defense or survival...