Star Trek TOS/2009 crossover
Fandom: Star Trek
Pairing: TOS!McCoy/nu!Kirk
Genre: Romance, angst
Type: Drabble
Notes: Really just a crack!fic that I wrote for a meme in my journal. I just thought it was a shame to let it go to waste, so decided to post it here after all the headdesking I went through to get this shit written. Also, English isn't my first language, so...yeah. Beware of typos/grammar.
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A Moment
The hair was surprisingly soft between his fingers as he combed them gently through the mess, like so many other things about this man belying the truth of the matter. He was young, so very young, and his frame still slim and lithe but his shoulders were weary and tense just like it always had been. A weight not meant for a lone man to carry, yet he was the only one, would always be the only one, who still stood tall and steeled himself for more. Age, it seems, had not changed this.
A soft sigh reached his ears and he felt a pang of guilt at the relaxed, contented sound. Yet his hand stayed. He trailed it down a strong neck, fingered the lines of muscles softly and feeling the tension which had only lessened marginally since the man fell asleep sweaty and content by his side.
This, he knew, was not meant to be his. He leaned down, pressed his lips against a bruise by the juncture of neck and shoulder. No, it wasn't his. Not back then, not there. But now...
James Tiberius Kirk with the blue eyes and the jaded spirit; alone and roughly shaped but still Captain, still brilliant, still James. Still with Spock by his side, still with...Bones. Still..alive.
But it was different, now. The deep, unbreakable bond between them had not had years to develop, had not had the same opportunities to grow, to manifest...but it had its seeds, always would. But it wasn't there, not yet. Not like then, not like...with them. Not like with the Kirk and Spock of his time and place, not like the Universe where he was never allowed that intimacy, that connection...that privilege , from Jim. Here, James T. Kirk was free. Here, James T. Kirk was young but liked the same beer, the same brandy, the same music, the same books, the same touches and kisses...
Guilt, Leonard McCoy mused, was not a pleasant feeling. However, right now, he figured, there was a moment in which he could forget it. An arm was around his thin waist, a face buried in his neck. Warm lips painted words against his skin and he closed his eyes and pretended that this, this was his. For now.
Pairing: TOS!McCoy/nu!Kirk
Genre: Romance, angst
Type: Drabble
Notes: Really just a crack!fic that I wrote for a meme in my journal. I just thought it was a shame to let it go to waste, so decided to post it here after all the headdesking I went through to get this shit written. Also, English isn't my first language, so...yeah. Beware of typos/grammar.
-----
A Moment
The hair was surprisingly soft between his fingers as he combed them gently through the mess, like so many other things about this man belying the truth of the matter. He was young, so very young, and his frame still slim and lithe but his shoulders were weary and tense just like it always had been. A weight not meant for a lone man to carry, yet he was the only one, would always be the only one, who still stood tall and steeled himself for more. Age, it seems, had not changed this.
A soft sigh reached his ears and he felt a pang of guilt at the relaxed, contented sound. Yet his hand stayed. He trailed it down a strong neck, fingered the lines of muscles softly and feeling the tension which had only lessened marginally since the man fell asleep sweaty and content by his side.
This, he knew, was not meant to be his. He leaned down, pressed his lips against a bruise by the juncture of neck and shoulder. No, it wasn't his. Not back then, not there. But now...
James Tiberius Kirk with the blue eyes and the jaded spirit; alone and roughly shaped but still Captain, still brilliant, still James. Still with Spock by his side, still with...Bones. Still..alive.
But it was different, now. The deep, unbreakable bond between them had not had years to develop, had not had the same opportunities to grow, to manifest...but it had its seeds, always would. But it wasn't there, not yet. Not like then, not like...with them. Not like with the Kirk and Spock of his time and place, not like the Universe where he was never allowed that intimacy, that connection...that privilege , from Jim. Here, James T. Kirk was free. Here, James T. Kirk was young but liked the same beer, the same brandy, the same music, the same books, the same touches and kisses...
Guilt, Leonard McCoy mused, was not a pleasant feeling. However, right now, he figured, there was a moment in which he could forget it. An arm was around his thin waist, a face buried in his neck. Warm lips painted words against his skin and he closed his eyes and pretended that this, this was his. For now.