Happy (belated) Birthday Sororexitium!!!!!!
So. HAPPY BIRTHDAY sororexitium. This is really late and I apologize for that, but I didn't want to half-ass it and so let's just pretend that it's not for your birthday, it's in honor of your awesomeness, which has no schedule.
Speaking of your awesomeness, when I was wracking my brain for something to write for you, I had this idea. I'm not sure if you'll like it, but bear with me: I fanfic'd your fic.
Hear me out! We mostly got to know one another after I commented on Not That It's Any of Your Damn Business by you and nenya24 - which is still one of my favorites. Whenever I reread this series, I always try and picture how the secrets would make a story, and there's one particular secret I come back to the most. I really hope you're okay with it.
I'm not going to post it around because the idea was entirely yours - but I thought you might like to see it. So happy birthday - I like your fic so much that I wanted to make fanfiction about it. <3
Title: Two May Keep Counsel
Author: linelenagain
Rating: PG (swearing)
Wordcount: 1576
Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek.
Summary: Shakespeare and shower-banter. This fic is based on sororexitium’s and nenya24’s Butterfly Series, and takes place entirely in their version of the Star Trek Universe.
Notes: This was written as birthday fic for sororexitium. It references her stories heavily (can you spot all the secrets?) and I highly encourage you to go read them, because they are pretty darn awesome.
“Jim!” Leonard banged on the bathroom door. “It’s quarter past nine! Move it or lose it!”
“Shit!” Leonard rolled his eyes as he heard Jim stumble out of the shower, picturing him tripping over the curtain and catching himself against the sink. Moments later, Jim barreled through the door, towel hanging from his waist in a hilariously insufficient nod to modestly.
“Hey!” Jim whined as Leonard bolted into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. “It’s only quarter of!”
Leonard was stripped and in the shower before he deigned to reply. “You’ll never learn!”
He banged his head against the shower wall as he heard the bathroom door open and shut. “I’ll never learn?” Jim said, too smugly and too close.
It was Leonard’s own fault. He should have known better than to think something as mundane as a lock would provide any kind of obstacle to Jim Kirk. “Jim. I take two minute showers. You can’t wait two minutes to do whatever it is you have to do in here?”
“Nmp,” Jim replied.
Leonard cringed at the squeak of Jim rubbing condensation off the mirror. Peeking around the curtain, he spied Jim making rabid-dog faces at himself, toothpaste foam spilling from the corners of his mouth. “When did you bring a toothbrush over?”
Jim batted his eyelashes innocently.
“Is nothing sacred?”
--
“Boooooooooones!”
Leonard’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his name. “Ow! Fucking shit, what is it, Jim?” he snarled, wiping the soap out of his eyes.
Jim sauntered into the bathroom - Leonard had given up on locking the door six months and dozens of break-ins ago. “Nothing,” he said, hopping up to sit on the edge of the sink. “I just think it’s funny the way you rush in here and jump in the shower in two seconds flat.”
“I’m efficient.”
“You’re a relic. You know we’re on Earth, right? Over seventy percent of the planet’s surface is covered by water - there’s no shortage. You should enjoy long showers while you still have the luxury. Once we’re up in space it’s strictly sonics for you, my friend.”
Leonard rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair to work the last of the soap out. “I’m not going into space, Jim. I’ve told you that. There are plenty of planet-side postings and I intend to be enjoying two-minute water showers for years to come.”
"In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke," Jim said, serenely.
“What?” Leonard groped blindly past the shower curtain. Jim shoved a towel into his hand.
“It’s Shakespeare, you philistine.” And god, he could practically hear the smirk. “The Bard’s saying you’ll cave.”
“He’s dead, Jim,” Leonard said, dryly. “I think that means I win this round.”
--
“Jim. Jim! Jim! Jim!”
“What?” Jim yelled, tiredly. Over the steady stream of water, Leonard heard him roll out of his bed, cursing as he hit the ground with a muffled thud, then stalk towards the bathroom. “What?” Jim asked, louder and clearly irritated.
Leonard shook his head back and forth, splattering droplets of water across the shower walls. “Gonna need a towel.”
“Oh.” Jim dropped to the floor, leaning against the sink. He looked at the towel rack, located conveniently next to the shower. “Yeah, okay.”
Leonard cleared his throat. “So, how do you think you did on that Tactics final?”
--
There was a heart drawn in the condensation on the mirror. Normally Leonard would never have noticed, but Jim’s ever-growing collection of toothpastes cluttering the sink had drawn his eye. It didn’t phase him - Jim wasted enough time in the bathroom every morning that the thought of him in here scribbling on the mirror actually made sense.
What did confuse him was Jim, wearing only a pair of boxers, dashing through the door and into Leonard, almost knocking him off his feet.
“Good morning, Jim,” Leonard sighed, shoving Jim over and stepping into the shower.
“Mornin’ Bones!” Jim replied cheerfully. “Hungry?”
“If you’re asking me if I want any of that over-sweetened cereal you’ve been eating,” Leonard said, standing on his toes to peer over the top of the shower curtain, “the answer is not only a definitive no, it also includes a reprimand for not eating something healthier.”
“You bought all that stuff, Bones!” Jim whined, hastily wiping his hand across the mirror, obliterating the lopsided heart.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised you have the same preferences as a six-year-old, Jim, I really don’t.” Bones ducked back down behind the curtain before Jim could turn around, uncertain as to his reasons but sure that subterfuge was necessary.
“Hey, I need a favor,” he said, flipping wet hair out of his eyes.
“Whatcha need, Bones?”
“Can you put together some simple flight sims for me? Nothing too advanced, just something to get me used to the idea of being in space.”
“Of course,” Jim said, and Leonard could tell that he was smiling. “I might already have a basic program organized for you. You know, just in case?”
Leonard frowned, nearly dropping the bottle of shower gel. “Nothing frightening, Jim. Promise me. No trials by fire.”
“Hey,” Jim pulled back the shower curtain and looked Leonard in the eye. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Bones.”
Leonard pulled the curtain shut with a furious yank. “Boundaries, Jim!”
Jim laughed. “You knew how I felt about boundaries when you invited me to be your roommate.”
“But foolishly, I believed that you were capable of learning.” Leonard said, rinsing off. He shut off the water, snatching at the towel that Jim shoved past the curtain and drying himself quickly. Wrapping it around his waist, he stepped out of the shower and shot Jim a glare. “And you’re going through those sims with me. You know, in case I have to strangle you or I need someone to throw up on.”
“Oh, the things I do for you, Leonard McCoy,” Jim said, laying a hand over his heart. “For you, I’ll repeat these boring shuttle sims. I’ll make myself a target for your vomit.” Jim spun around with a theatrical flourish. “I’ll put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes!”
“A girdle - are you quoting again? I won’t stand here and have Shakespeare quoted at me by a man wearing no pants.”
“You wouldn’t know culture if it jizzed on your face. C’mon, I’m making Pop Tarts.”
“That crap’ll kill ya,” Leonard said, sparing a last look at the smeared handprint streaked over the glass.
--
It wasn’t like Jim to fall back asleep after his shower, but Leonard figured it was probably for the best. It had been a rough few days since the Enterprise had made it back to Earth, and Jim had spent most of his time in debriefings, which for once in his life had nothing to do with his underwear.
So when Jim had staggered out of the bathroom and back into bed, Leonard didn’t say anything, just tucked a sheet over him and started his own morning routine. His pensive mood was not reflected in his movements, and he was in and out of the shower in just a few minutes, as usual.
There was a heart on the mirror again.
It couldn’t be a coincidence, Leonard thought, that he was seeing this on the one morning Jim hadn’t barged in on him. Jim had been too tired for creativity - too tired for anything but...routine.
They’d been roommates over for over two years, and Jim had stayed the night dozens of times before that. How many times had Jim barged in on him during his shower? How many hearts had he smeared off the glass before Leonard could see?
He reached out, hovering his fingers over the drawing and waiting for the panic that did not come. Locking eyes with himself through the clear lines on the mirror, Leonard was almost surprised to see that he was smiling.
Because it felt right, he added a second heart, chained through the first but a little more shaky, his finger moving unsteadily over the slick glass. It was a quiet thing, a small thing, and if someone had asked Leonard two years ago, he would have said that Jim Kirk was incapable of being anything but grandiose.
And maybe Jim had learned that sometimes it was all right to do things quietly, without fuss, or maybe that was something he’d always known, but hidden. That was Jim’s secret, and Leonard would let him keep it for the moment.
Either way, he thought as he walked across their bedroom, what happened next was entirely on him.
“Hey,” he whispered, shaking Jim’s bare shoulder, for once not trying to ignore how warm and smooth Jim’s skin felt under his hands. “Jim. Wake up.”
Jim’s eyes blinked open, and he smiled sleepily as he peered up at Leonard. “What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?” he murmured.
Leonard pinched his upper arm, hard. “Too early for poetry,” he said over Jim’s disapproving yelp. “C’mon, up and at ‘em.” He pulled Jim to his feet and shoved him towards the bathroom. “Get back in there and comb your hair; you’re a mess and we’ve got places to be.”
The last thing he saw before the door shut was the widening of Jim’s eyes as he noticed the mirror, and the slow bloom of his smile.
Speaking of your awesomeness, when I was wracking my brain for something to write for you, I had this idea. I'm not sure if you'll like it, but bear with me: I fanfic'd your fic.
Hear me out! We mostly got to know one another after I commented on Not That It's Any of Your Damn Business by you and nenya24 - which is still one of my favorites. Whenever I reread this series, I always try and picture how the secrets would make a story, and there's one particular secret I come back to the most. I really hope you're okay with it.
I'm not going to post it around because the idea was entirely yours - but I thought you might like to see it. So happy birthday - I like your fic so much that I wanted to make fanfiction about it. <3
Title: Two May Keep Counsel
Author: linelenagain
Rating: PG (swearing)
Wordcount: 1576
Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek.
Summary: Shakespeare and shower-banter. This fic is based on sororexitium’s and nenya24’s Butterfly Series, and takes place entirely in their version of the Star Trek Universe.
Notes: This was written as birthday fic for sororexitium. It references her stories heavily (can you spot all the secrets?) and I highly encourage you to go read them, because they are pretty darn awesome.
“Jim!” Leonard banged on the bathroom door. “It’s quarter past nine! Move it or lose it!”
“Shit!” Leonard rolled his eyes as he heard Jim stumble out of the shower, picturing him tripping over the curtain and catching himself against the sink. Moments later, Jim barreled through the door, towel hanging from his waist in a hilariously insufficient nod to modestly.
“Hey!” Jim whined as Leonard bolted into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. “It’s only quarter of!”
Leonard was stripped and in the shower before he deigned to reply. “You’ll never learn!”
He banged his head against the shower wall as he heard the bathroom door open and shut. “I’ll never learn?” Jim said, too smugly and too close.
It was Leonard’s own fault. He should have known better than to think something as mundane as a lock would provide any kind of obstacle to Jim Kirk. “Jim. I take two minute showers. You can’t wait two minutes to do whatever it is you have to do in here?”
“Nmp,” Jim replied.
Leonard cringed at the squeak of Jim rubbing condensation off the mirror. Peeking around the curtain, he spied Jim making rabid-dog faces at himself, toothpaste foam spilling from the corners of his mouth. “When did you bring a toothbrush over?”
Jim batted his eyelashes innocently.
“Is nothing sacred?”
--
“Boooooooooones!”
Leonard’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his name. “Ow! Fucking shit, what is it, Jim?” he snarled, wiping the soap out of his eyes.
Jim sauntered into the bathroom - Leonard had given up on locking the door six months and dozens of break-ins ago. “Nothing,” he said, hopping up to sit on the edge of the sink. “I just think it’s funny the way you rush in here and jump in the shower in two seconds flat.”
“I’m efficient.”
“You’re a relic. You know we’re on Earth, right? Over seventy percent of the planet’s surface is covered by water - there’s no shortage. You should enjoy long showers while you still have the luxury. Once we’re up in space it’s strictly sonics for you, my friend.”
Leonard rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair to work the last of the soap out. “I’m not going into space, Jim. I’ve told you that. There are plenty of planet-side postings and I intend to be enjoying two-minute water showers for years to come.”
"In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke," Jim said, serenely.
“What?” Leonard groped blindly past the shower curtain. Jim shoved a towel into his hand.
“It’s Shakespeare, you philistine.” And god, he could practically hear the smirk. “The Bard’s saying you’ll cave.”
“He’s dead, Jim,” Leonard said, dryly. “I think that means I win this round.”
--
“Jim. Jim! Jim! Jim!”
“What?” Jim yelled, tiredly. Over the steady stream of water, Leonard heard him roll out of his bed, cursing as he hit the ground with a muffled thud, then stalk towards the bathroom. “What?” Jim asked, louder and clearly irritated.
Leonard shook his head back and forth, splattering droplets of water across the shower walls. “Gonna need a towel.”
“Oh.” Jim dropped to the floor, leaning against the sink. He looked at the towel rack, located conveniently next to the shower. “Yeah, okay.”
Leonard cleared his throat. “So, how do you think you did on that Tactics final?”
--
There was a heart drawn in the condensation on the mirror. Normally Leonard would never have noticed, but Jim’s ever-growing collection of toothpastes cluttering the sink had drawn his eye. It didn’t phase him - Jim wasted enough time in the bathroom every morning that the thought of him in here scribbling on the mirror actually made sense.
What did confuse him was Jim, wearing only a pair of boxers, dashing through the door and into Leonard, almost knocking him off his feet.
“Good morning, Jim,” Leonard sighed, shoving Jim over and stepping into the shower.
“Mornin’ Bones!” Jim replied cheerfully. “Hungry?”
“If you’re asking me if I want any of that over-sweetened cereal you’ve been eating,” Leonard said, standing on his toes to peer over the top of the shower curtain, “the answer is not only a definitive no, it also includes a reprimand for not eating something healthier.”
“You bought all that stuff, Bones!” Jim whined, hastily wiping his hand across the mirror, obliterating the lopsided heart.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised you have the same preferences as a six-year-old, Jim, I really don’t.” Bones ducked back down behind the curtain before Jim could turn around, uncertain as to his reasons but sure that subterfuge was necessary.
“Hey, I need a favor,” he said, flipping wet hair out of his eyes.
“Whatcha need, Bones?”
“Can you put together some simple flight sims for me? Nothing too advanced, just something to get me used to the idea of being in space.”
“Of course,” Jim said, and Leonard could tell that he was smiling. “I might already have a basic program organized for you. You know, just in case?”
Leonard frowned, nearly dropping the bottle of shower gel. “Nothing frightening, Jim. Promise me. No trials by fire.”
“Hey,” Jim pulled back the shower curtain and looked Leonard in the eye. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Bones.”
Leonard pulled the curtain shut with a furious yank. “Boundaries, Jim!”
Jim laughed. “You knew how I felt about boundaries when you invited me to be your roommate.”
“But foolishly, I believed that you were capable of learning.” Leonard said, rinsing off. He shut off the water, snatching at the towel that Jim shoved past the curtain and drying himself quickly. Wrapping it around his waist, he stepped out of the shower and shot Jim a glare. “And you’re going through those sims with me. You know, in case I have to strangle you or I need someone to throw up on.”
“Oh, the things I do for you, Leonard McCoy,” Jim said, laying a hand over his heart. “For you, I’ll repeat these boring shuttle sims. I’ll make myself a target for your vomit.” Jim spun around with a theatrical flourish. “I’ll put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes!”
“A girdle - are you quoting again? I won’t stand here and have Shakespeare quoted at me by a man wearing no pants.”
“You wouldn’t know culture if it jizzed on your face. C’mon, I’m making Pop Tarts.”
“That crap’ll kill ya,” Leonard said, sparing a last look at the smeared handprint streaked over the glass.
--
It wasn’t like Jim to fall back asleep after his shower, but Leonard figured it was probably for the best. It had been a rough few days since the Enterprise had made it back to Earth, and Jim had spent most of his time in debriefings, which for once in his life had nothing to do with his underwear.
So when Jim had staggered out of the bathroom and back into bed, Leonard didn’t say anything, just tucked a sheet over him and started his own morning routine. His pensive mood was not reflected in his movements, and he was in and out of the shower in just a few minutes, as usual.
There was a heart on the mirror again.
It couldn’t be a coincidence, Leonard thought, that he was seeing this on the one morning Jim hadn’t barged in on him. Jim had been too tired for creativity - too tired for anything but...routine.
They’d been roommates over for over two years, and Jim had stayed the night dozens of times before that. How many times had Jim barged in on him during his shower? How many hearts had he smeared off the glass before Leonard could see?
He reached out, hovering his fingers over the drawing and waiting for the panic that did not come. Locking eyes with himself through the clear lines on the mirror, Leonard was almost surprised to see that he was smiling.
Because it felt right, he added a second heart, chained through the first but a little more shaky, his finger moving unsteadily over the slick glass. It was a quiet thing, a small thing, and if someone had asked Leonard two years ago, he would have said that Jim Kirk was incapable of being anything but grandiose.
And maybe Jim had learned that sometimes it was all right to do things quietly, without fuss, or maybe that was something he’d always known, but hidden. That was Jim’s secret, and Leonard would let him keep it for the moment.
Either way, he thought as he walked across their bedroom, what happened next was entirely on him.
“Hey,” he whispered, shaking Jim’s bare shoulder, for once not trying to ignore how warm and smooth Jim’s skin felt under his hands. “Jim. Wake up.”
Jim’s eyes blinked open, and he smiled sleepily as he peered up at Leonard. “What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?” he murmured.
Leonard pinched his upper arm, hard. “Too early for poetry,” he said over Jim’s disapproving yelp. “C’mon, up and at ‘em.” He pulled Jim to his feet and shoved him towards the bathroom. “Get back in there and comb your hair; you’re a mess and we’ve got places to be.”
The last thing he saw before the door shut was the widening of Jim’s eyes as he noticed the mirror, and the slow bloom of his smile.