STXI fic: Take Your Best Shot
Title: Take Your Best Shot
Authors: northatlantic and breakthecitysky
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: Mature audiences. Or immature ones of legal age to view explicit content in your jurisdiction.
Summary: Jim Kirk doesn't like not being in on secrets. Or vaccinations. Romantic comedy ensues.
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: The pretty toys don't belong to us, of course, nor would their real owners and operators approve but damn, come on. Besides which, I have nothing worth taking if you decide to sue. (Note: I especially apologize to the ghost of Mr. Roddenbery for Christine Chapel, whose canon I violated six ways from Sunday just because it made us snicker thinking about Jim Kirk thinking about it. You'll know that part when you see it.)
After the third time that morning McCoy had reduced one of the techs to tears, Chapel walked up behind him, smiled sweetly, "A word with you, Leonard?" and proceeded to nick him by the ear and frog-march him into his office. "Doctor, I'd like you to take this in the professional and respectful manner it's meant--what crawled up your ass and died this morning, and how can I extract it before the entire Medicine service puts in for transfers?"
McCoy huffed and twitched, clearly ready to make a NonStandard suggestion, but in weighing the advantage of his greater reach and weight against Chapel's speed and viciousness, decided that discretion was the better part of valor. "I'm sorry, okay? It's not anything to do with any of the staff. They're all good kids. Mostly good kids," he grumbled, staring at his hands.
"Okay, this is progress," Chapel said encouragingly. "We know what it's NOT. Now you want to tell me what it is?"
"No."
Chapel's eyes narrowed as McCoy's lip poked out like a stubborn six-year-old's. "Leonard, don't make me point out you're six months overdue for your latest Series XI vaccinations." He growled, and Chapel whipped out her hypospray. "Got 'em right here, all six of 'em..."
"Fine!" McCoy threw up his hands and started to pace, huffing out an exasperated breath. "It's...it's just stupid, is all." Christine stared, fascinated, at the hitherto-unimagined spectacle of Leonard H. McCoy (there was much speculation about the H in Sickbay, but consensus had it standing for Heartless-Bastard) reddening like a tomato, and not with rage. She was reasonably sure it was...embarrassment. When she showed no signs of relenting--indeed, every sign of dragging it out of him if he didn't give it up, he flopped back into his chair. "It's Jim, dammit."
"What did he do now? Cancel your leave for that nasty stunt with the Rigellian screaming fungus? Come on, Leonard, you do the crime, you do the time."
"No, he still hasn't decided on a revenge for that one." He looked almost...despondent, and Chapel was a bit alarmed. A bitchy Leonard McCoy was pretty much the base state of the Universe. A quietly unhappy one, on the other hand, was distinctly disconcerting. "He's been too busy with the Orion trade delegation." The last was spit through his teeth, and the indistinct mumble about 'can't trust the green ones' had Chapel blinking, then eyes widening in startled comprehension.
"Oh my God you're JEALOUS."
McCoy's eyes wheeled with panic. "Dammit, Chapel, keep it down, you think I want the whole sonvabitchin' Sickbay privy to this?"
Chapel was still getting past the idea of McCoy liking anybody enough to be jealous. But if it was anybody, she supposed Kirk made sort of a...twisted kind of sense. "Well, Leonard, they're only going to be here another week," she offered encouragingly.
"Doesn't matter," he said, running his hands into his hair and staring at his desk. "It's not like that really makes a difference. If it's not Orions, it's Andorians. Or what about that Vulcan pirate chick--and hey, how weird was THAT, I thought we'd have to surgically release Spock's eyebrows from his hairline--or hell, Chris, you see where I'm going here? They're all women. Which, yeah, notsomuch."
"BONES!" Jim said gleefully, clapping him on the shoulder as he barged into McCoy's office without so much as a knock. Closed doors didn't apply to captains, after all, not when they belonged to McCoy, who knew everything there was to know about him and still liked him anyway. "Notsomuch what? You're looking flustered. Who do I have to kill?"
McCoy jumped about a foot and Chapel took the opportunity to flee before she lost control of her expression--or someone else set up the office pool. Jim blinked, watched Chapel go before turning his attention back to Bones. "Did I interrupt something?"
"No," McCoy said hoarsely. "We were just discussing...vaccination schedules."
Jim raised an eyebrow, bullshit sensors clearly picking up a reading. "Booooooooooones," he wheedled.
"Jiiiiiiiiiiiiiim," McCoy mocked, heart racing. "Was there something you wanted to do besides make sure I didn't get any of my paperwork done this morning?"
"Paperwork," Jim rolled his eyes. "Didn't see you at breakfast, was on a break in negotiations so I thought I would come check on you."
"And how's her excellency the Orion ambassador?" McCoy hid the snarl behind his PADD, pretending to make notes. Possibly drawing a mustache on her picture.
"Excellent," Jim smirked, then quirked an eyebrow. "So seriously Bones, what gives?"
McCoy was still trying not to crack a tooth from the "excellent." "Oh, the usual. Slaving away on the health and well-being of the crew no matter what exotic and virulent social diseases they might be courting. Say, that reminds me, you up on your Series XI vaccinations?"
Jim frowned. "Probably?"
"Let's see, shall we? Why don't you have a seat on one of the exam tables?" Let's see that green-skinned hussy grab your ass after THIS, McCoy thought gleefully.
Jim watched him warily. "You're really cranky, Bones. What's going on?"
"Nothing. One hundred percent, absolutely nothing. Not a thing. Personal, professional, nada. Oh, look at this, you DO need your series XI. Want to turn over for me? They need to be delivered IM."
"What, now?" he scowled at him. "I think they can wait."
"Oh, I think it can wait like when you totally dodged me for three months for your last Denebian flu shot and ended up sick for two weeks, I think it can wait? Drop trou or I tranq you."
"Seriously, Bones, you're going to tell me what's going on," he said, grumbling as he pulled his pants down, watched Bones over his shoulder.
McCoy nearly bit through his lip at that picture, lust and guilt tangling messily together. It's for the greater good, he reminded himself and administered the hypo, growled to cover his wince at Jim's yelp. "You baby. It's just a booster series."
"I don't care! That hurt, you could have warned me," he pouted.
"Next time I'll kiss it better," he growled trenchantly. "Do you want a topical?"
"See that you do," Kirk grumbled, shaking his head. "You realize I'm not going to let this go, right?"
God help him, he did. But if the kid thought he could outstubborn McCoy, he had another guess coming. "Delusional," he said, spraying a temporary numbing spray on. "Now get out of here and quit distracting my staff."
Jim frowned at him another minute, lips pursed when he sighed and headed out.
***
McCoy looked up from a thankfully solitary dinner (everyone else was smart enough to stay away), blinking like a deer in the headlights when Jim cheerfully plunked his tray down across from him. Dammit, did he have sensors in his forehead? He'd been there every damn time he turned around today; kid had the instincts of a trapspider. "Don't you have some sort of fancy dinner deal tonight?"
"Eh, wasn't important. I needed some Bones time. What in God's name is this, anyway?"
"Remind me to schedule some head examination for you if you're turning down real food for the mess. I think it's supposed to be beef stew. Or possibly Andorian mushroom surprise. In any event, I'm pretty sure this actually contains neither beef nor mushrooms so I'm not sure how much difference it makes."
He made a face, but proceeded to dig in. "So. What was was it you and Chapel were talking about?"
"Confidentiality," he said glibly. "Can't tell you."
Jim scowled. "Bones, seriously. I don't like this new side of you."
McCoy frowned, a little chill in the pit of his stomach. "What new side? I'm the same grouchy bastard I always was."
"The side that holds out on me," he said, nudging him with a toe.
A flare of sheer panic at that touch made him snap, "Jim, does it ever occur to you sometimes not everything is about you?" He wished for it back as soon as he said it, first for the look in Jim's eyes and well, secondly because it was a damn lie. "Sorry. Just feeling a little raw, I guess."
Jim bit his cheek, looked down. "Duly noted, Doctor."
He closed his eyes and because he was a sucker let Jim have a little piece of what was bugging him--well, what was bugging him over and above the looming, massive inappropriateness of wanting to bone - ha ha - your CO. "S'my anniversary," he said, poking at the unappetizing mess on his plate. "Also, coincidentally enough, the day the divorce decree was finalized. Always kind of makes me look forward to dying alone, among other cheery revelations about life and love."
"Well dammit, why didn't you say something?" Jim said, looking more than mildly irritated as he looked up. "Come on, toss this trash where it belongs and let's go back to my quarters."
He looked up, eyes wide. Oh. Oh, this is so not good. Way to overplay your hand, dumbass. "Jim, are you sure--the delegation," he protested feebly.
"Oh stop about the delegation, Jesus," Jim muttered, even as he grabbed some scared looking ensign and told him to snag two plates from the dinner he was skipping out of and bring them to his quarters. "C'mon. You deserve a good meal and maybe there's some bourbon hiding under my bed for a special Bones-related occasion."
Maybe I can get drunk fast enough to skip straight from buzzed to passed out without anything too embarrassing happening inbetween? McCoy lived in hope. "Well, that's a handsome offer."
"Get up off your sweet ass and let's get moving," Jim waited until they were in the hallway to nudge him again. "So are you going to tell me now?"
"I TOLD you," he said irritably. "I'm celebrating the day it was formally recognized that singlehood is preferable to Leonard McCoy."
"Preferable, huh? Is that why you were cozying up to Chapel?" Jim asked, not really looking at him.
That was so far away from what McCoy was expecting that he let out a bark of laughter. "Uh, I'd have to grow breasts for that, Jim. You didn't know?"
"Didn't know what?"
He coughed delicately. "Christine prefers the company of ladies."
"Really? Huh," Jim's eyes glazed over a little as he thought about that, then shook his head as if to clear it. "Well, anyway, the two of you were conspiring about SOMETHING and as captain of this ship I really feel you're duty-bound to inform me of the same."
He closed his eyes. "Jim, what I was conspiring with Christine about was the fact that she was going to beat me if I kept taking out my bad mood on the staff. And that my bad mood is my own damn fault for being a cranky pessimistic perfectionist jackass who keeps looking for something that isn't there. Are you happy now?"
He was quiet a minute. "What are you looking for, Bones?"
Who was he kidding. No one could outlast the kid. Not even SPOCK, probably, he could OUTLIVE him and DEATH wouldn't be an obstacle for Jim Kirk, he'd just haunt the pointy-eared hobgoblin. "I need a drink or three before I humiliate myself that much."
Jim gave him a quizzical look, hummed a little as they entered his quarters, two plates of something delicious waiting for them and a couple of glasses of pale wine. "Well anyway. Let's dig in." He was a little hurt, that Bones was going to Chapel with things he really should be telling Jim. They were, after all, best friends. But he tried not to show it, or admit to being jealous. Or relieved, for that matter, that Bones wasn't setting his sights on Chapel.
McCoy smiled, couldn't help himself. "You are such a jerk. She's going to be cranky with you, the ambassador."
"Oh whatever, negotations were already concluded. She took up enough of my time," Jim's lips quirked up.
Trade negotiations or not, no one would ever mistake Jim for a diplomat. It was one of the things he loved about--okay, you're way not drunk enough yet for this part of the conversation. He made himself focus on the food instead, some kind of fancy bird in a rich, velvety-creamy sauce. "This is amazing. It's probably as well I don't get my grubby paws on real food that often. Get fat."
"Please," Jim muttered. "You're all long, lean lines. Take a hell of a lot of diplomatic dinners."
"Kid, you're the skinny one," McCoy corrected, an uncharacteristic hint of softness in his voice before the bite returned. "Now where's my damn booze?"
"Yeah, yeah," Jim smiled back, went to snag his stash, poured a couple of fingers for Bones, a couple for himself. "The good shit, too, all Earth-native. Booker's."
McCoy whistled in soft appreciation, took a deep breath before sipping. "Now that feels like home." You do, he thought, looking over at Jim, the pleasure on his face unguarded and uncomplicated.
Jim lit up at that, inordinately pleased that he'd pleased Bones, tucked into his food. "Good. I'd much rather you frown at me because it's your own special way of greeting me than be frowning because you're actually upset."
"You are so weird." McCoy ate contentedly, strangely resigned to what was probably going to be a new milestone of awkwardness coming up. "But you grow on me. Not entirely unlike Rigellian screaming fungus."
"And I'm even harder to get rid of," Jim shot back cheerfully.
He snorted. "That's the truth. I said once about Andorian shingles? they only wish they were as persistent as Jim Kirk."
"Only about some things," he said, then decided they both needed more alcohol.
"Oh?" McCoy leaned forward, eyes sharpening protectively at that hint of uncertainty. HIS Jim, admitting defeat about something?
"Mmm. It's not important," he sighed.
"Oh, come on, you've been after me like a puppy with a chew toy all day and now you're getting all coy? Spill."
Jim's jaw tightened. "You first."
They glared at each other for a moment, at an impasse, and then Bones winced, picked up his drink. "I'm sorry, you deserve better," he mumbled to the glass, tossed it back like a kid with a cheap shot. "mlookingforyouallright?"
Jim raised an eyebrow. "Come again?" he asked, refilling McCoy's glass because he looked like he needed it.
"You asked me," McCoy said with diamond-edged precision as he looked into his glass as if it held the secrets of the universe, "what I was looking for that wasn't there. I was looking for you. Am looking for you. Kinda funny, huh? Being as you're right here and all." He took a sip, all he could get past the tautness of his throat.
"Are you saying you want my hot body, Bones?" For as casual a question, Jim could feel his stomach doing flip-flops.
McCoy winced as if Jim had slapped him. "Right? You see why this is an awkward moment for me. Being as that is apparently a kind of incredible revelation for you." There wasn't enough alcohol in the world for this, he decided. but he'd give it the college try later anyway.
Jim looked down at his glass, swirled the liquid. "Guess it just doesn't compute much, is all. Doesn't seem possible You're too smart, too good to want someone like me."
McCoy's head jerked up in shock at that uncertain tone. "What, are you kidding?" His voice cracked like an adolescent's and he winced again. "I'M too smart? I'm not the youngest goddamned captain in Starfleet. I'm too good? I haven't saved any planets lately. What kind of ridiculous low-self-esteem bullpucky is this?"
"Aw, 'cmon, Bones," Jim looked up at him, something uncertain and skittish in those eyes. "You save lives, every day, keep all of us patched up and put together and that's all as much the mental side as it is the physical. I'm the king of the quick hook-ups, the easy lay. There's nothing quick or easy about you."
He thrust his hands into his hair and yanked on it to try and clear his head. Jim Kirk had a sexual insecurity--and it involved him? "I can't believe I'm having this conversation. You. Come here." He shuffled over, lashes obscuring his eyes and if Jim had a tail it would be tucked firmly between his legs. McCoy scrambled up, almost knocked the chair over as he grabbed a fistful of close-cropped gold and yanked Kirk's mouth to his, kissed him with every bit of frustrated want he had in him, every jealous possessive lecherous thought he could summon. And being who he was, he could summon quite a bit.
"Holy shit," Jim exhaled, when he could manage to catch enough air to breathe again. "Bones, man, who taught you to kiss? You've totally been holding out on me, that's really unfair."
"I've been holding out on YOU? Since when are you into guys?"
"Oh. I'm not, really. I mean, sucked off a guy or two, whatever, took it in the ass once to see what that felt like," he said, as if he was talking about his last trip to the grocery store. "But I'm kind of crazy when it comes to you, so."
McCoy blinked once. "To...see what that felt like. Okay." He blinked again as that picture took shape in his head. Swallowed as the blood deserted his brain in a rush.
"You okay, Bones? You're looking a little flushed." The cocky grin had returned to Jim's face.
McCoy looked at him, flustered and helpless and something wild and defenseless in his eyes. "If you're...I don't want you to do something because it's what I want. I know where that road goes."
Jim let out a long, put-upon sigh. "Bones. I didn't start experimenting until I met you. Decided at that point it was just about you, so why bother to keep going?"
"I mean it, Jim, because I don't think I can take it if things go wrong. If you decide to cut me loose." His voice was as hoarse as the last time he'd smoked a cigarette, and he felt about as sick.
"Cut you loose?" Jim looked at him, incredulous. "Jesus, Bones, this is the longest relationship I've ever had. I'm pretty sure you're stuck with me until I die."
"Promise?"
"Yes," Jim huffed, almost petulant. "Would you stop agonizing now? I'm entirely certain there are better uses of our time."
McCoy growled, tugged him in hard against him and bit his lip to stop the whine and maybe just a little bit because he'd fantasized about it in about a million different scenarios, that mouth and what he'd like to do to it.
"Promising. Definitely promising," Jim hummed when they came up for air, got Bones' shirt off as he pushed him back toward the bed.
McCoy had better things to do with his mouth than talk, like nipping Jim's earlobe, licking and sucking a path down along the side of his neck as he worked his shirt up, thumbs flicking over Jim's nipples as he bit him hard before tugging his shirt off, half-stumbling back onto the bed and pulling Jim with him.
Fell on his back, Bones sprawled out over him and Jim had never really been in a position like this before; the man-on-man bit aside, he was used to being the one driving anything and he wasn't here, not entirely. Maybe not at all, and while normally that would drive him nuts it was Bones doing it, who would never do anything to hurt--or at least, more than sting irritatingly--and that made it not only okay, but a rush. He rolled his hips, grinning a little at the growl that got out of Bones. "Like that?"
"What do you think?" McCoy grumbled, but his lips kept curving up as his hands slid down that long torso, nuzzling at the tender place at the base of his throat. "So, you've sucked a man off before, you said," he rasped, long hand sliding into Jim's pants, fingertips teasing over his cock. "You let any of 'em suck yours?"
Jim swallowed hard, eyes black dark, cock jumping at the very thought of that. "Once," he muttered, pushing up against McCoy's fingers. "Wasn't very good."
"Mmm. How about we see if we can raise the bar a little?" McCoy felt that little jolt of heat there, a shiver of answering want and of calm at the same time, something about that extremely physical and concrete evidence more convincing than words could be--it wasn't like you could fake a hard-on. He made his way down with leisurely thoroughness, teasing at every even remotely sensitive or ticklish spot with lips and teeth and fingertips as he stripped Jim bare for him, wanted him wild before he even took him in his mouth.
Jim leaned up on his elbows, watching Bones through heavy-lidded eyes, tongue snaking out over dry lips and even if he'd wanted to be still, to keep his hips from rocking up needfully, he couldn't. "C'mon, Bones," he whined softly. "Please."
McCoy smirked, eyes dark, licked him in one long stroke from base to head before taking him in, a quick circular flick of the tongue establishing where the sweet spot was as Jim gasped and jolted before he set to work in earnest. It had been a while, but it wasn't like it was the kind of thing you forgot, or at least not with better than six feet of stubborn infuriating hotter-than-hell man moaning and writhing underneath you to remind you how it went.
Holy hell, Jim thought hazily, not at all like the one he'd had before, quick and fast and somehow dirty. Although he'd grant that this was dirty, all right, but in all the best possible ways. "Oh God. Oh Bones." Hung on with everything in him and it was still too soon when he cried out sharply, spending into that sinful, beautiful mouth.
McCoy hummed pleasure at that, at Jim's hands lacing into his hair, the way his hips pushed up and god it had been so long, felt so good, something easing in him he hadn't realized had pulled to breaking to be wanted like that, to feel someone's pleasure so close, know you were giving it. Closed his eyes as he swallowed, licked him clean, then looked up hotly possessive. "That a little more positive experience?"
"Always knew you had a smart mouth, but damn." McCoy smiled, bit Jim's hipbone before sliding back up beside him to nuzzle. Could bathe in the scent of him, warm musky skin and clean sweat. Jim kissed him when he got there, letting out a soft sigh. "Kind of speechless."
"That's a first." He smiled as Jim made a face, kissed him back long and slow and deep.
Jim shimmyed against him at that, humming against his mouth. "So you wanna fuck me, Bones?"
"Christ have mercy. You think?" He laughed when Jim did, rested his forehead against his, everything he felt in his eyes.
Jim brushed the flop of hair out of Bones' eyes, something vulnerable in his own. "Yeah. I was thinking the same thing."
McCoy nosed against Jim's nose. "You're kind of ridiculously fuckable, you know that, right?" he murmured between kisses. "I've thought about this, wondered about it, so many times. If you were as open, as playful, as honest, as pushy in bed as you are out of it. There's no way this could not be good for me," he whispered against his mouth. "Tell me how to make it good for you, okay? what you like, what you don't."
Jim shivered, felt impossibly young as he shifted against Bones, threading his fingers through his hair, thumbs stroking over his cheeks. "As long as it works for you, I don't think there's anything you could do wrong," he whispered.
McCoy groaned, rolled his eyes. "Oh god, kid. No pressure." He bit his lip gently, made a face at him, kissed him again slow and sweet. "I assume there's something of the lube persuasion, perhaps even a selection, in the goodie drawer?"
"Well, yeah, I mean, what do you take me for, an amateur?" His lips quirked, eyes sparkling, even if there was still that same sense of vulnerability there.
McCoy felt a little reassured at the return of the smartassery. "Hence, selection." He reached over, glanced through, made his choice, then slid back down his body. Wanted to give him everything, show him everything, spread him open for him, traced a path in delicate strokes of his tongue down from his balls, the sensitive place behind, glanced up. "I want," he murmured softly. "To do everything for you, to you. Is this okay?"
"Are you serious?" Hungry eyes followed Bones' every move. "Yes, okay. Yes."
He proceeded to explore with quick hard flicks and soft slow strokes of tongue until Jim's little gasps turned to moans, hips lifting restlessly again as McCoy worked his way back up his body, made sure his cock was slick and silky-warm with lube as he positioned himself, pulled Jim's legs over his shoulders, pushed carefully inside.
Jim made a soft keening noise, felt impossibly open, and yet impossibly full, hands sliding up McCoy's arms as his eyes sought the other man's. "Bones. Good, good, I swear, so good."
McCoy licked over dry lips, started to jack him in time with his thrusts, slowly at first, then faster as Jim pushed up to meet him, eyes going wide and blind. "Oh, fuck yes," he gasped. "Do you have any idea how goddamn hot you are? How dirty and sweet you look, how fucking tight...Mine, you hear me? Mine. This belongs to me. You belong to me." Couldn't keep it in, didn't want to. At that moment, didn't care if the world knew he was fucking Jim Kirk and how he felt about it.
Jim bit down on his lip, muffled his cry against McCoy's shoulder as he leaned into him, everything quiet, after, just the sound of their breathing. He lipped along Bones' neck, fingers tangling in his hair. "You know how hot that is, you staking your claim?"
Considering what he'd just done, been doing, McCoy told himself that shouldn't have made him blush. "That's hot, too," Jim whispered, lips quirking as he traced the blush with his thumb.
McCoy turned into his hand. "Easy. You are," he whispered. "Not the way you mean but this is so easy, with you, to believe things can work. You make things possible, Jim Kirk, that shouldn't be."
Jim half-smiled. "Don't you get it, Bones? The impossible's possible because I'm not doing it alone."
"Jim and Bones against the world."
"Can't lose." McCoy couldn't help but grin, something almost boyish in the wonder in it and Jim kissed that grin, over and over. "So much time to make up for."
McCoy groaned. "Be gentle with me kid, I don't recover as fast."
Jim snapped his teeth, rolling his eyes. "Uh huh. Sure, old man."
McCoy wrapped aroud him hard, knuckled the top of his head because he COULD. "Watch it, whippersnapper, or I'll get my cane," he said dryly, landed a smack on Jim's ass and then winced at the yip that got. "Oops. Wrong side. You really did need those shots, you know."
"Yeah, sure." Jim made a face at him, eye sparkling with wicked amusement. "You want to spank me, all you had to do was ask."
"Really?" McCoy knows Jim's not even close to vanilla, but he's tried not to think about him actively kinky, because, well, God. A person could embarrass themselves that way.
Jim blinked, thought about it for a minute. "Sure, if you want," he shrugged. "It's not like I won't try anything once."
"Give me a minute. I think I just got dizzy with the vistas of infinite possibility."
Jim grinned. "Don't hurt yourself."
McCoy gave him a little nip. "Smartass. Besides which, who said I wouldn't rather have you do it?"
Jim pushed out a breath. "Going to break me all over again, Bones?"
"Maybe I'll let you break me. Little pieces. And I will love every minute of it. " He smiled, eyes closing.
"Looks good on you." Jim's voice was low and soft, hand coming to rest over Bones' heart.
"You do," McCoy said, smiling. "Hey, maybe that's the next one. Install a mirrored ceiling in the captain's cabin."
Jim laughed. "Sure."
"I would suggest a sex tape but those things have the damnedest way of turning up on ship's closed circuit. Don't ask me how I know that." McCoy smirked.
Jim poked him. "Hey."
"I'm just saying. I never looked at a Jeffries tube in that light before."
Jim scowled without heat. "So glad to provide entertainment."
McCoy smiled, lopsided and tender. "Got me so hot and bothered I made everyone in the lab miserable for a week. I think even Chapel cried. Then she stabbed me in the hand with a minisampler."
"Well, try not to freak them out by being TOTALLY chipper now."
McCoy grinned, this time with more than a hint of evil in it. "You know, I hadn't thought about that."
"Oh God."
"So let's have no more of this good-person crap, since it's clearly inaccurate."
"Hrmpfh. You are a far better person than I, no arguments."
He bit Jim gently. "You keep believing that, I'll keep trying to keep you believing it."
Authors: northatlantic and breakthecitysky
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: Mature audiences. Or immature ones of legal age to view explicit content in your jurisdiction.
Summary: Jim Kirk doesn't like not being in on secrets. Or vaccinations. Romantic comedy ensues.
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: The pretty toys don't belong to us, of course, nor would their real owners and operators approve but damn, come on. Besides which, I have nothing worth taking if you decide to sue. (Note: I especially apologize to the ghost of Mr. Roddenbery for Christine Chapel, whose canon I violated six ways from Sunday just because it made us snicker thinking about Jim Kirk thinking about it. You'll know that part when you see it.)
After the third time that morning McCoy had reduced one of the techs to tears, Chapel walked up behind him, smiled sweetly, "A word with you, Leonard?" and proceeded to nick him by the ear and frog-march him into his office. "Doctor, I'd like you to take this in the professional and respectful manner it's meant--what crawled up your ass and died this morning, and how can I extract it before the entire Medicine service puts in for transfers?"
McCoy huffed and twitched, clearly ready to make a NonStandard suggestion, but in weighing the advantage of his greater reach and weight against Chapel's speed and viciousness, decided that discretion was the better part of valor. "I'm sorry, okay? It's not anything to do with any of the staff. They're all good kids. Mostly good kids," he grumbled, staring at his hands.
"Okay, this is progress," Chapel said encouragingly. "We know what it's NOT. Now you want to tell me what it is?"
"No."
Chapel's eyes narrowed as McCoy's lip poked out like a stubborn six-year-old's. "Leonard, don't make me point out you're six months overdue for your latest Series XI vaccinations." He growled, and Chapel whipped out her hypospray. "Got 'em right here, all six of 'em..."
"Fine!" McCoy threw up his hands and started to pace, huffing out an exasperated breath. "It's...it's just stupid, is all." Christine stared, fascinated, at the hitherto-unimagined spectacle of Leonard H. McCoy (there was much speculation about the H in Sickbay, but consensus had it standing for Heartless-Bastard) reddening like a tomato, and not with rage. She was reasonably sure it was...embarrassment. When she showed no signs of relenting--indeed, every sign of dragging it out of him if he didn't give it up, he flopped back into his chair. "It's Jim, dammit."
"What did he do now? Cancel your leave for that nasty stunt with the Rigellian screaming fungus? Come on, Leonard, you do the crime, you do the time."
"No, he still hasn't decided on a revenge for that one." He looked almost...despondent, and Chapel was a bit alarmed. A bitchy Leonard McCoy was pretty much the base state of the Universe. A quietly unhappy one, on the other hand, was distinctly disconcerting. "He's been too busy with the Orion trade delegation." The last was spit through his teeth, and the indistinct mumble about 'can't trust the green ones' had Chapel blinking, then eyes widening in startled comprehension.
"Oh my God you're JEALOUS."
McCoy's eyes wheeled with panic. "Dammit, Chapel, keep it down, you think I want the whole sonvabitchin' Sickbay privy to this?"
Chapel was still getting past the idea of McCoy liking anybody enough to be jealous. But if it was anybody, she supposed Kirk made sort of a...twisted kind of sense. "Well, Leonard, they're only going to be here another week," she offered encouragingly.
"Doesn't matter," he said, running his hands into his hair and staring at his desk. "It's not like that really makes a difference. If it's not Orions, it's Andorians. Or what about that Vulcan pirate chick--and hey, how weird was THAT, I thought we'd have to surgically release Spock's eyebrows from his hairline--or hell, Chris, you see where I'm going here? They're all women. Which, yeah, notsomuch."
"BONES!" Jim said gleefully, clapping him on the shoulder as he barged into McCoy's office without so much as a knock. Closed doors didn't apply to captains, after all, not when they belonged to McCoy, who knew everything there was to know about him and still liked him anyway. "Notsomuch what? You're looking flustered. Who do I have to kill?"
McCoy jumped about a foot and Chapel took the opportunity to flee before she lost control of her expression--or someone else set up the office pool. Jim blinked, watched Chapel go before turning his attention back to Bones. "Did I interrupt something?"
"No," McCoy said hoarsely. "We were just discussing...vaccination schedules."
Jim raised an eyebrow, bullshit sensors clearly picking up a reading. "Booooooooooones," he wheedled.
"Jiiiiiiiiiiiiiim," McCoy mocked, heart racing. "Was there something you wanted to do besides make sure I didn't get any of my paperwork done this morning?"
"Paperwork," Jim rolled his eyes. "Didn't see you at breakfast, was on a break in negotiations so I thought I would come check on you."
"And how's her excellency the Orion ambassador?" McCoy hid the snarl behind his PADD, pretending to make notes. Possibly drawing a mustache on her picture.
"Excellent," Jim smirked, then quirked an eyebrow. "So seriously Bones, what gives?"
McCoy was still trying not to crack a tooth from the "excellent." "Oh, the usual. Slaving away on the health and well-being of the crew no matter what exotic and virulent social diseases they might be courting. Say, that reminds me, you up on your Series XI vaccinations?"
Jim frowned. "Probably?"
"Let's see, shall we? Why don't you have a seat on one of the exam tables?" Let's see that green-skinned hussy grab your ass after THIS, McCoy thought gleefully.
Jim watched him warily. "You're really cranky, Bones. What's going on?"
"Nothing. One hundred percent, absolutely nothing. Not a thing. Personal, professional, nada. Oh, look at this, you DO need your series XI. Want to turn over for me? They need to be delivered IM."
"What, now?" he scowled at him. "I think they can wait."
"Oh, I think it can wait like when you totally dodged me for three months for your last Denebian flu shot and ended up sick for two weeks, I think it can wait? Drop trou or I tranq you."
"Seriously, Bones, you're going to tell me what's going on," he said, grumbling as he pulled his pants down, watched Bones over his shoulder.
McCoy nearly bit through his lip at that picture, lust and guilt tangling messily together. It's for the greater good, he reminded himself and administered the hypo, growled to cover his wince at Jim's yelp. "You baby. It's just a booster series."
"I don't care! That hurt, you could have warned me," he pouted.
"Next time I'll kiss it better," he growled trenchantly. "Do you want a topical?"
"See that you do," Kirk grumbled, shaking his head. "You realize I'm not going to let this go, right?"
God help him, he did. But if the kid thought he could outstubborn McCoy, he had another guess coming. "Delusional," he said, spraying a temporary numbing spray on. "Now get out of here and quit distracting my staff."
Jim frowned at him another minute, lips pursed when he sighed and headed out.
***
McCoy looked up from a thankfully solitary dinner (everyone else was smart enough to stay away), blinking like a deer in the headlights when Jim cheerfully plunked his tray down across from him. Dammit, did he have sensors in his forehead? He'd been there every damn time he turned around today; kid had the instincts of a trapspider. "Don't you have some sort of fancy dinner deal tonight?"
"Eh, wasn't important. I needed some Bones time. What in God's name is this, anyway?"
"Remind me to schedule some head examination for you if you're turning down real food for the mess. I think it's supposed to be beef stew. Or possibly Andorian mushroom surprise. In any event, I'm pretty sure this actually contains neither beef nor mushrooms so I'm not sure how much difference it makes."
He made a face, but proceeded to dig in. "So. What was was it you and Chapel were talking about?"
"Confidentiality," he said glibly. "Can't tell you."
Jim scowled. "Bones, seriously. I don't like this new side of you."
McCoy frowned, a little chill in the pit of his stomach. "What new side? I'm the same grouchy bastard I always was."
"The side that holds out on me," he said, nudging him with a toe.
A flare of sheer panic at that touch made him snap, "Jim, does it ever occur to you sometimes not everything is about you?" He wished for it back as soon as he said it, first for the look in Jim's eyes and well, secondly because it was a damn lie. "Sorry. Just feeling a little raw, I guess."
Jim bit his cheek, looked down. "Duly noted, Doctor."
He closed his eyes and because he was a sucker let Jim have a little piece of what was bugging him--well, what was bugging him over and above the looming, massive inappropriateness of wanting to bone - ha ha - your CO. "S'my anniversary," he said, poking at the unappetizing mess on his plate. "Also, coincidentally enough, the day the divorce decree was finalized. Always kind of makes me look forward to dying alone, among other cheery revelations about life and love."
"Well dammit, why didn't you say something?" Jim said, looking more than mildly irritated as he looked up. "Come on, toss this trash where it belongs and let's go back to my quarters."
He looked up, eyes wide. Oh. Oh, this is so not good. Way to overplay your hand, dumbass. "Jim, are you sure--the delegation," he protested feebly.
"Oh stop about the delegation, Jesus," Jim muttered, even as he grabbed some scared looking ensign and told him to snag two plates from the dinner he was skipping out of and bring them to his quarters. "C'mon. You deserve a good meal and maybe there's some bourbon hiding under my bed for a special Bones-related occasion."
Maybe I can get drunk fast enough to skip straight from buzzed to passed out without anything too embarrassing happening inbetween? McCoy lived in hope. "Well, that's a handsome offer."
"Get up off your sweet ass and let's get moving," Jim waited until they were in the hallway to nudge him again. "So are you going to tell me now?"
"I TOLD you," he said irritably. "I'm celebrating the day it was formally recognized that singlehood is preferable to Leonard McCoy."
"Preferable, huh? Is that why you were cozying up to Chapel?" Jim asked, not really looking at him.
That was so far away from what McCoy was expecting that he let out a bark of laughter. "Uh, I'd have to grow breasts for that, Jim. You didn't know?"
"Didn't know what?"
He coughed delicately. "Christine prefers the company of ladies."
"Really? Huh," Jim's eyes glazed over a little as he thought about that, then shook his head as if to clear it. "Well, anyway, the two of you were conspiring about SOMETHING and as captain of this ship I really feel you're duty-bound to inform me of the same."
He closed his eyes. "Jim, what I was conspiring with Christine about was the fact that she was going to beat me if I kept taking out my bad mood on the staff. And that my bad mood is my own damn fault for being a cranky pessimistic perfectionist jackass who keeps looking for something that isn't there. Are you happy now?"
He was quiet a minute. "What are you looking for, Bones?"
Who was he kidding. No one could outlast the kid. Not even SPOCK, probably, he could OUTLIVE him and DEATH wouldn't be an obstacle for Jim Kirk, he'd just haunt the pointy-eared hobgoblin. "I need a drink or three before I humiliate myself that much."
Jim gave him a quizzical look, hummed a little as they entered his quarters, two plates of something delicious waiting for them and a couple of glasses of pale wine. "Well anyway. Let's dig in." He was a little hurt, that Bones was going to Chapel with things he really should be telling Jim. They were, after all, best friends. But he tried not to show it, or admit to being jealous. Or relieved, for that matter, that Bones wasn't setting his sights on Chapel.
McCoy smiled, couldn't help himself. "You are such a jerk. She's going to be cranky with you, the ambassador."
"Oh whatever, negotations were already concluded. She took up enough of my time," Jim's lips quirked up.
Trade negotiations or not, no one would ever mistake Jim for a diplomat. It was one of the things he loved about--okay, you're way not drunk enough yet for this part of the conversation. He made himself focus on the food instead, some kind of fancy bird in a rich, velvety-creamy sauce. "This is amazing. It's probably as well I don't get my grubby paws on real food that often. Get fat."
"Please," Jim muttered. "You're all long, lean lines. Take a hell of a lot of diplomatic dinners."
"Kid, you're the skinny one," McCoy corrected, an uncharacteristic hint of softness in his voice before the bite returned. "Now where's my damn booze?"
"Yeah, yeah," Jim smiled back, went to snag his stash, poured a couple of fingers for Bones, a couple for himself. "The good shit, too, all Earth-native. Booker's."
McCoy whistled in soft appreciation, took a deep breath before sipping. "Now that feels like home." You do, he thought, looking over at Jim, the pleasure on his face unguarded and uncomplicated.
Jim lit up at that, inordinately pleased that he'd pleased Bones, tucked into his food. "Good. I'd much rather you frown at me because it's your own special way of greeting me than be frowning because you're actually upset."
"You are so weird." McCoy ate contentedly, strangely resigned to what was probably going to be a new milestone of awkwardness coming up. "But you grow on me. Not entirely unlike Rigellian screaming fungus."
"And I'm even harder to get rid of," Jim shot back cheerfully.
He snorted. "That's the truth. I said once about Andorian shingles? they only wish they were as persistent as Jim Kirk."
"Only about some things," he said, then decided they both needed more alcohol.
"Oh?" McCoy leaned forward, eyes sharpening protectively at that hint of uncertainty. HIS Jim, admitting defeat about something?
"Mmm. It's not important," he sighed.
"Oh, come on, you've been after me like a puppy with a chew toy all day and now you're getting all coy? Spill."
Jim's jaw tightened. "You first."
They glared at each other for a moment, at an impasse, and then Bones winced, picked up his drink. "I'm sorry, you deserve better," he mumbled to the glass, tossed it back like a kid with a cheap shot. "mlookingforyouallright?"
Jim raised an eyebrow. "Come again?" he asked, refilling McCoy's glass because he looked like he needed it.
"You asked me," McCoy said with diamond-edged precision as he looked into his glass as if it held the secrets of the universe, "what I was looking for that wasn't there. I was looking for you. Am looking for you. Kinda funny, huh? Being as you're right here and all." He took a sip, all he could get past the tautness of his throat.
"Are you saying you want my hot body, Bones?" For as casual a question, Jim could feel his stomach doing flip-flops.
McCoy winced as if Jim had slapped him. "Right? You see why this is an awkward moment for me. Being as that is apparently a kind of incredible revelation for you." There wasn't enough alcohol in the world for this, he decided. but he'd give it the college try later anyway.
Jim looked down at his glass, swirled the liquid. "Guess it just doesn't compute much, is all. Doesn't seem possible You're too smart, too good to want someone like me."
McCoy's head jerked up in shock at that uncertain tone. "What, are you kidding?" His voice cracked like an adolescent's and he winced again. "I'M too smart? I'm not the youngest goddamned captain in Starfleet. I'm too good? I haven't saved any planets lately. What kind of ridiculous low-self-esteem bullpucky is this?"
"Aw, 'cmon, Bones," Jim looked up at him, something uncertain and skittish in those eyes. "You save lives, every day, keep all of us patched up and put together and that's all as much the mental side as it is the physical. I'm the king of the quick hook-ups, the easy lay. There's nothing quick or easy about you."
He thrust his hands into his hair and yanked on it to try and clear his head. Jim Kirk had a sexual insecurity--and it involved him? "I can't believe I'm having this conversation. You. Come here." He shuffled over, lashes obscuring his eyes and if Jim had a tail it would be tucked firmly between his legs. McCoy scrambled up, almost knocked the chair over as he grabbed a fistful of close-cropped gold and yanked Kirk's mouth to his, kissed him with every bit of frustrated want he had in him, every jealous possessive lecherous thought he could summon. And being who he was, he could summon quite a bit.
"Holy shit," Jim exhaled, when he could manage to catch enough air to breathe again. "Bones, man, who taught you to kiss? You've totally been holding out on me, that's really unfair."
"I've been holding out on YOU? Since when are you into guys?"
"Oh. I'm not, really. I mean, sucked off a guy or two, whatever, took it in the ass once to see what that felt like," he said, as if he was talking about his last trip to the grocery store. "But I'm kind of crazy when it comes to you, so."
McCoy blinked once. "To...see what that felt like. Okay." He blinked again as that picture took shape in his head. Swallowed as the blood deserted his brain in a rush.
"You okay, Bones? You're looking a little flushed." The cocky grin had returned to Jim's face.
McCoy looked at him, flustered and helpless and something wild and defenseless in his eyes. "If you're...I don't want you to do something because it's what I want. I know where that road goes."
Jim let out a long, put-upon sigh. "Bones. I didn't start experimenting until I met you. Decided at that point it was just about you, so why bother to keep going?"
"I mean it, Jim, because I don't think I can take it if things go wrong. If you decide to cut me loose." His voice was as hoarse as the last time he'd smoked a cigarette, and he felt about as sick.
"Cut you loose?" Jim looked at him, incredulous. "Jesus, Bones, this is the longest relationship I've ever had. I'm pretty sure you're stuck with me until I die."
"Promise?"
"Yes," Jim huffed, almost petulant. "Would you stop agonizing now? I'm entirely certain there are better uses of our time."
McCoy growled, tugged him in hard against him and bit his lip to stop the whine and maybe just a little bit because he'd fantasized about it in about a million different scenarios, that mouth and what he'd like to do to it.
"Promising. Definitely promising," Jim hummed when they came up for air, got Bones' shirt off as he pushed him back toward the bed.
McCoy had better things to do with his mouth than talk, like nipping Jim's earlobe, licking and sucking a path down along the side of his neck as he worked his shirt up, thumbs flicking over Jim's nipples as he bit him hard before tugging his shirt off, half-stumbling back onto the bed and pulling Jim with him.
Fell on his back, Bones sprawled out over him and Jim had never really been in a position like this before; the man-on-man bit aside, he was used to being the one driving anything and he wasn't here, not entirely. Maybe not at all, and while normally that would drive him nuts it was Bones doing it, who would never do anything to hurt--or at least, more than sting irritatingly--and that made it not only okay, but a rush. He rolled his hips, grinning a little at the growl that got out of Bones. "Like that?"
"What do you think?" McCoy grumbled, but his lips kept curving up as his hands slid down that long torso, nuzzling at the tender place at the base of his throat. "So, you've sucked a man off before, you said," he rasped, long hand sliding into Jim's pants, fingertips teasing over his cock. "You let any of 'em suck yours?"
Jim swallowed hard, eyes black dark, cock jumping at the very thought of that. "Once," he muttered, pushing up against McCoy's fingers. "Wasn't very good."
"Mmm. How about we see if we can raise the bar a little?" McCoy felt that little jolt of heat there, a shiver of answering want and of calm at the same time, something about that extremely physical and concrete evidence more convincing than words could be--it wasn't like you could fake a hard-on. He made his way down with leisurely thoroughness, teasing at every even remotely sensitive or ticklish spot with lips and teeth and fingertips as he stripped Jim bare for him, wanted him wild before he even took him in his mouth.
Jim leaned up on his elbows, watching Bones through heavy-lidded eyes, tongue snaking out over dry lips and even if he'd wanted to be still, to keep his hips from rocking up needfully, he couldn't. "C'mon, Bones," he whined softly. "Please."
McCoy smirked, eyes dark, licked him in one long stroke from base to head before taking him in, a quick circular flick of the tongue establishing where the sweet spot was as Jim gasped and jolted before he set to work in earnest. It had been a while, but it wasn't like it was the kind of thing you forgot, or at least not with better than six feet of stubborn infuriating hotter-than-hell man moaning and writhing underneath you to remind you how it went.
Holy hell, Jim thought hazily, not at all like the one he'd had before, quick and fast and somehow dirty. Although he'd grant that this was dirty, all right, but in all the best possible ways. "Oh God. Oh Bones." Hung on with everything in him and it was still too soon when he cried out sharply, spending into that sinful, beautiful mouth.
McCoy hummed pleasure at that, at Jim's hands lacing into his hair, the way his hips pushed up and god it had been so long, felt so good, something easing in him he hadn't realized had pulled to breaking to be wanted like that, to feel someone's pleasure so close, know you were giving it. Closed his eyes as he swallowed, licked him clean, then looked up hotly possessive. "That a little more positive experience?"
"Always knew you had a smart mouth, but damn." McCoy smiled, bit Jim's hipbone before sliding back up beside him to nuzzle. Could bathe in the scent of him, warm musky skin and clean sweat. Jim kissed him when he got there, letting out a soft sigh. "Kind of speechless."
"That's a first." He smiled as Jim made a face, kissed him back long and slow and deep.
Jim shimmyed against him at that, humming against his mouth. "So you wanna fuck me, Bones?"
"Christ have mercy. You think?" He laughed when Jim did, rested his forehead against his, everything he felt in his eyes.
Jim brushed the flop of hair out of Bones' eyes, something vulnerable in his own. "Yeah. I was thinking the same thing."
McCoy nosed against Jim's nose. "You're kind of ridiculously fuckable, you know that, right?" he murmured between kisses. "I've thought about this, wondered about it, so many times. If you were as open, as playful, as honest, as pushy in bed as you are out of it. There's no way this could not be good for me," he whispered against his mouth. "Tell me how to make it good for you, okay? what you like, what you don't."
Jim shivered, felt impossibly young as he shifted against Bones, threading his fingers through his hair, thumbs stroking over his cheeks. "As long as it works for you, I don't think there's anything you could do wrong," he whispered.
McCoy groaned, rolled his eyes. "Oh god, kid. No pressure." He bit his lip gently, made a face at him, kissed him again slow and sweet. "I assume there's something of the lube persuasion, perhaps even a selection, in the goodie drawer?"
"Well, yeah, I mean, what do you take me for, an amateur?" His lips quirked, eyes sparkling, even if there was still that same sense of vulnerability there.
McCoy felt a little reassured at the return of the smartassery. "Hence, selection." He reached over, glanced through, made his choice, then slid back down his body. Wanted to give him everything, show him everything, spread him open for him, traced a path in delicate strokes of his tongue down from his balls, the sensitive place behind, glanced up. "I want," he murmured softly. "To do everything for you, to you. Is this okay?"
"Are you serious?" Hungry eyes followed Bones' every move. "Yes, okay. Yes."
He proceeded to explore with quick hard flicks and soft slow strokes of tongue until Jim's little gasps turned to moans, hips lifting restlessly again as McCoy worked his way back up his body, made sure his cock was slick and silky-warm with lube as he positioned himself, pulled Jim's legs over his shoulders, pushed carefully inside.
Jim made a soft keening noise, felt impossibly open, and yet impossibly full, hands sliding up McCoy's arms as his eyes sought the other man's. "Bones. Good, good, I swear, so good."
McCoy licked over dry lips, started to jack him in time with his thrusts, slowly at first, then faster as Jim pushed up to meet him, eyes going wide and blind. "Oh, fuck yes," he gasped. "Do you have any idea how goddamn hot you are? How dirty and sweet you look, how fucking tight...Mine, you hear me? Mine. This belongs to me. You belong to me." Couldn't keep it in, didn't want to. At that moment, didn't care if the world knew he was fucking Jim Kirk and how he felt about it.
Jim bit down on his lip, muffled his cry against McCoy's shoulder as he leaned into him, everything quiet, after, just the sound of their breathing. He lipped along Bones' neck, fingers tangling in his hair. "You know how hot that is, you staking your claim?"
Considering what he'd just done, been doing, McCoy told himself that shouldn't have made him blush. "That's hot, too," Jim whispered, lips quirking as he traced the blush with his thumb.
McCoy turned into his hand. "Easy. You are," he whispered. "Not the way you mean but this is so easy, with you, to believe things can work. You make things possible, Jim Kirk, that shouldn't be."
Jim half-smiled. "Don't you get it, Bones? The impossible's possible because I'm not doing it alone."
"Jim and Bones against the world."
"Can't lose." McCoy couldn't help but grin, something almost boyish in the wonder in it and Jim kissed that grin, over and over. "So much time to make up for."
McCoy groaned. "Be gentle with me kid, I don't recover as fast."
Jim snapped his teeth, rolling his eyes. "Uh huh. Sure, old man."
McCoy wrapped aroud him hard, knuckled the top of his head because he COULD. "Watch it, whippersnapper, or I'll get my cane," he said dryly, landed a smack on Jim's ass and then winced at the yip that got. "Oops. Wrong side. You really did need those shots, you know."
"Yeah, sure." Jim made a face at him, eye sparkling with wicked amusement. "You want to spank me, all you had to do was ask."
"Really?" McCoy knows Jim's not even close to vanilla, but he's tried not to think about him actively kinky, because, well, God. A person could embarrass themselves that way.
Jim blinked, thought about it for a minute. "Sure, if you want," he shrugged. "It's not like I won't try anything once."
"Give me a minute. I think I just got dizzy with the vistas of infinite possibility."
Jim grinned. "Don't hurt yourself."
McCoy gave him a little nip. "Smartass. Besides which, who said I wouldn't rather have you do it?"
Jim pushed out a breath. "Going to break me all over again, Bones?"
"Maybe I'll let you break me. Little pieces. And I will love every minute of it. " He smiled, eyes closing.
"Looks good on you." Jim's voice was low and soft, hand coming to rest over Bones' heart.
"You do," McCoy said, smiling. "Hey, maybe that's the next one. Install a mirrored ceiling in the captain's cabin."
Jim laughed. "Sure."
"I would suggest a sex tape but those things have the damnedest way of turning up on ship's closed circuit. Don't ask me how I know that." McCoy smirked.
Jim poked him. "Hey."
"I'm just saying. I never looked at a Jeffries tube in that light before."
Jim scowled without heat. "So glad to provide entertainment."
McCoy smiled, lopsided and tender. "Got me so hot and bothered I made everyone in the lab miserable for a week. I think even Chapel cried. Then she stabbed me in the hand with a minisampler."
"Well, try not to freak them out by being TOTALLY chipper now."
McCoy grinned, this time with more than a hint of evil in it. "You know, I hadn't thought about that."
"Oh God."
"So let's have no more of this good-person crap, since it's clearly inaccurate."
"Hrmpfh. You are a far better person than I, no arguments."
He bit Jim gently. "You keep believing that, I'll keep trying to keep you believing it."