Next Star Trek McKirk fic Part 1
Title: Learning to ride (1/2)
Rating So Far: PG-13
Warnings: Fluff maybe
Summary: “Are those horses?” McCoy turned to Jim whom was bouncing on his toes and looking damn proud of himself.
It started with a blind fold. A blind fold that was quickly and covertly tied the moment Dr. Leonard McCoy walked out the door.
“What the hell?” he sputtered, trying to push the offending material up, but found his wrists were held tight, and he bet he knew by whom.
“Jim, what are you doing?” he growled, trying to shake his wrists free.
“No peaking.”
Jim’s voice was light, with just a hint of laughter.
McCoy scowled beneath the blindfold, “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m not telling. Not until you promise not to peak.”
He heaved a sigh, if he didn’t love this cocky, difficult, unpredictable yet loving and soft man he would’ve left Jim’s sorry ass long before they’d made it back from fighting the Narada. Now on shore leave after their first successful mission as an actual crew, he was being subjected to whatever tortures Jim could come up with.
At the sigh the grip around his wrists tightened.
“Alright, alright no peaking. Now are you going to tell me what’s going on?” McCoy finally gave in.
“Nope.”
He could practically feel the face splitting grin that was aimed his way.
“Of course not. Why would you? You live on the cheap thrill of being a smart-ass,” he snorted.
“That hurts Bones.” Jim said, his tone conveying nothing of the sort.
“Sure it does. Can we just get this ridiculous plan of yours over with? I have a medical journal to finish.” McCoy took a tentative step to the right. Since he was blind and Jim had let go, he really didn’t have a clue where it was safe to step.
“No, not that way. It’s this way,” Jim told him, grabbing his hand and took off somewhere to the left, leaving McCoy to stumble along behind him.
“What exactly is ‘it’?” he asked, concentrating on not falling flat on his face.
“‘It’ is a real beauty,” Jim replied with a little awed sigh. The one he usually gives after they’ve had a long night of love making…
“You rented a car didn’t you, and I bet it’s a convertible too,” McCoy states more than asks, a little annoyed by the fact a car was making his lover sigh like that.
The deflective silence is answer enough.
Suddenly Jim lets go and McCoy can’t stop himself from stumbling into a hard metal door. He hears Jim making his way around the car and opening the driver’s side door.
“This is a Mustang isn’t it?” he asks as he hunts for the door handle. Jims always had an affinity for that particular body style though he never figured out exactly why.
“It’s a classic.” Jim indignantly defended his choice, “Hurry up and get in.”
“I’m trying,” McCoy mutters to himself as he finally manages to get the door open.
“You could’ve at least opened the door for me,” he added a little louder as he lowered himself carefully into the seat and shut the door.
“Aw, is the little lady mad?” Jim was just baiting him now and he let the ‘little lady’ comment go… for now.
“It’s the least you could’ve done, considering we’re off traipsing off who knows where and I can’t see a damn thing.” McCoy frowned trying to find the seat belt straps.
“Here.” And then Jim’s deft hands were there quickly pulling the necessary restraints across his body, though, those hands stayed a little longer than necessary in places they shouldn’t have.
“Tease,” he muttered, without much bite.
“You know you like it.” Jim answered leaning away, but not before he planted a chaste kiss on McCoy’s cheek, “Trust me you’re going to like the surprise."
“That remains to be seen,” he growled crossing his arms over his chest and waiting for his love to start the car.
The gentle rumbling of the powerful engine, thrummed through the cars body.
“Oh, yeah listen to her purr,” Jim coed putting it, her, in gear.
McCoy didn’t completely understand why people insisted on calling their vehicles ‘her’. They were death traps in motion, not a person.
After listening to Jim coo over the car for several minutes, minutes he would never get back and could’ve been better spent, he cleared his throat.
“If you’re done molesting the vehicle can we get this show on the road? I want to get this over with.” He huffed.
“Aw, are you jealous?”
McCoy didn’t even dignify that with an answer, but at least he could feel they were moving now, heading off towards whatever Jim had planned.
“You are! Don’t worry Bones; you’re the only one for me.”
He rolled his eyes beneath the blind fold; Jim could act like such a child sometimes. He felt warmth engulf his hand as their fingers were twined together. Jim gave them a reassuring squeeze.
“Wait, are you driving with one hand?” McCoy asked in alarm, raising his voice to be heard over the wind whistling by. Of all the irresponsible things…
“Don’t worry Bones; I could do this in my sleep.”
"Of course you can." McCoy sighed and relinquished himself to a long car ride of praying they would get to their destination in one piece.
Time seemed to pass slowly. He couldn’t exactly watch the passing scenery, and there wasn’t much else to do. Instead McCoy concentrated on the noises around him, listening for the sound of passing cars or trees. By the time he’d reached 2 Jim had turned on music and despite grumblings that rock music wasn’t really music at all and that they should be listening to Jazz, which Jim promptly claimed wasn’t music either, he stubbornly left it on. By the time 56 rolled around he was pretty sure they were heading out of town and by 126 he was pretty sure he was counting trees whizzing past. The road had begun to roll and curve and by 201 he swore he heard cows. By 316 he was about fed up with waiting.
“How much further is it?” McCoy grumbled, his head propped up on his right arm that was leaning against the car door.
“Don’t worry we’re getting close.” Jim assured him.
“Define close.” He knew to ask.
“Close as in we’re here.”
He could feel the car slowing down as Jim took a left. He could hear the crunch of gravel under the tires. Ribbons of shadows appeared, and then disappeared only to repeat the process and a breeze ghosted through his hair. The air smelled cool and clean now that it wasn’t ripping past his face at ninety miles per hour.
They continued down the gravel road for a sort while until Jim pulled off onto the grass. When he shut off the car, the silence after the blaring drum beats and screaming voices was kind of a shock. Though he could now hear the birds singing and the wind rustling through leaves.
“Just sit tight.” Jim told him and McCoy heard the door open and close while the keys jingled when they were taken out of the ignition.
He did as he was told, albeit with his arms crossed once again. He was starting to feel a little nervous, the unknown tended to do that to him. The passenger door opened and Jim leaned across him to unfasten the belt, before he gently took a hold of McCoy’s hand’s and helped him get out.
“Oh, so now I get the special treatment,” he muttered, as he felt with his feet. He was tired of being blind, dammit!
As if sensing his thoughts Jim tugged his forward and said, “Hey remember no peeking! Don’t worry we’re almost there.”
“You said that already,” McCoy pointed out.
It felt as if they were walking up an incline, through grass or some kind of turf. Jim seemed a little nervous and tense from the way he was gripping his hand. The surprise must be something major to make Jim so nervous.
“Okay,” Jim said stopping and McCoy nearly ran into him.
“Jeez, warn me before you do that.” He griped, rubbing his now sore nose.
“We’re here.” And then he felt hands untying the blind fold.
“Wait-,” bright afternoon light scorched his retinas and forced him to close his eyes until he could crack them open. After so much time in the dark his pupils were bound to be a little sluggish. When McCoy managed to open his eyes full everything was still a little blurry, but he could still see at least. Jim was lucky he didn’t have any permanent eye damage.
Looking around they appeared to be out in the country with rolling hills and large trees old with age. No wonder it had taken so long to get there. Birds twittered and flew over and wait…
“Are those horses?” McCoy turned to Jim whom was bouncing on his toes and looking damn proud of himself.
“Yep.”
“But why?” He didn’t understand. What was Jim up to?
“I figured we needed a little get away, so I arranged for us to go on a trail ride and then have a picnic at creek that’s just up the trail a ways. Do you like it?” Jim looked nervous as if he half expected McCoy to shoot him down in flames.
“Like it? Of course I like it, you idiot. I just wasn’t expecting it.”
Jim’s grinned bloomed across his face, lighting up his striking blue eyes. He leaned forward and sweetly kissed his doctor, and then proceeded to not allow him up for air.
McCoy was finally forced to push him away, “Keep that up and we’re not going anywhere.”
“I’m okay with that,” Jim said giving him another kiss, but this one was shorter.
“Come check it out,” he said tugging McCoy over to the horses.
The horses were already tacked up with their bridles and saddles carefully adjusted. They stood tied to a sturdy tree and stood munch the surrounding weeds and occasionally swishing their tales. The horses themselves were no push-over. He found himself walking around them noting their good points, “Well proportioned head, solid neck, legs are a little long but look sturdy, back and hindquarters a well proportioned.” They weren’t the best money could buy but they weren’t the nags that McCoy had learned to ride on when he was a child.
“Jeez Bones, I didn’t know you knew so much about horses.” Jim told him impressed.
“Well I considered becoming a vet for a short while when I was a kid and my best friend’s uncle had a couple of horses that he taught us to ride on.”
“You thought about becoming a vet? I didn’t know that.” Jim asked surprised.
“Yeah well, I changed my mind pretty quick,” McCoy informed him, memories of his father casting a dark look over his face.
Jim stood there frozen for a minute worry etched into his features, and for a moment he felt guilty for putting it there. The awkward moment was broken a moment later when his lover clapped him on the shoulder and grinned, “Let’s get this party started.
“Since you grew up on a farm you do know how to ride right?” McCoy’s mother hen complex had to ask.
“No, not really I was more interested in jacking my stepdad’s cars.”
“Why am I not surprised?” McCoy drawled rolling his eyes.
“But really it can’t be any harder than riding a motorcycle right?” Jim shrugged getting ready to mount, supposing he even knew how.
“Jim wait-” McCoy began…