Measured (Beyond Measure Series - Star Trek XI Fanfic)
Title: Measured
Author: therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot
Pairings: Kirk/McCoy, Kirk/Spock
Rating: R
Description: An angsty story, told in 10,100-word drabbles.
Part 8 of the Beyond Measure Series.
Previous Installment: Touch
Begin at the beginning: Torn
1.
The official reprimand came as no surprise. What did come as a surprise was that the reprimand took place in Admiral Pike’s office and consisted of a two-minute lecture on discretion, a reminder not to “think with their cocks,” and a champagne toast to their continued happiness.
“Just… try to tone down the drama up there, okay? It would be a damn shame if Lieutenant Uhura got an ulcer trying to keep you three in check."
They stood in shock for a moment, matching eyebrows raised, before they remembered their manners and drank, tasting relief and gratitude in every sip.
2.
"And of course, Starfleet will ensure that the three of you are placed together on future assignments."
"Seriously? What, you have, like, a policy for that?"
"You think you're the first Captain this has ever happened to?"
"Um, yes?"
"Yeah, okay, you may have a point. Still, we're not in the Stone Age here. Hell, we're not in the 21st century. Starfleet recognizes the importance of bonds that form between crewmates - some a little stronger than others, apparently - and we'll do our damndest to make sure those connections remain in place.”
“So will we, Admiral. So will we.”
3.
Pike’s admonition not to think with their cocks was forgotten, as Bones fucked Jim over a sun-warmed boulder while they waited for night to fall.
Afterwards, they lay contentedly on the sand. “Bones, this is the best vacation ever.”
“Dammit Jim, it’s a hostage rescue mission, not a vacation.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Twenty-four hours later, their mission successfully concluded, the grateful queen offered them food and rest in her luxurious palace. Jim looked to Bones, who shook his head, and Jim graciously refused the offer. Outside, Bones’ gaze turned immediately to the sky.
“I miss him, too. Let’s go home.”
4.
Sometimes, Bones remembered when it was just the two of them, and thought it might be nice to have Jim to himself again. Like now, as Spock leaned over them, shaking them out of a deep, warm sleep at some godawful hour for something about routine scans. Jim would have decided to sleep in, or maybe woken him with soft, sleepy kisses. But then Spock was thrusting a cup of hot coffee into his hands and he took a sip and tasted just the right amount of bourbon and saw that Spock had made Jim hot chocolate, and he smiled.
5.
Always, the dream began with Spock on the operating table, green blood everywhere.
Some nights, Bones worked frantically to fix him, hands skilled, technique flawless, but the bleeding wouldn’t stop, and he heard himself call time of death. Those were bad dreams.
Other nights, Bones stood with arms crossed, or idly straightened racks of hyposprays, taking inventory while Spock bled out in front of him. Those were nightmares.
Always, Bones awoke with an anguished cry.
Always, Spock soothed him, saying "Bones, I'm here." Then Bones would clutch his hand and kiss his palm and always, inexplicably, say "I'm sorry, Jim."
6.
Sometimes, Spock found himself missing something he had never had, an illogical, puzzling feeling, the shadow of a memory of a dream. For certainly, he had never known Jim without Bones, without understanding what they had, without sensing Bones in the back of Jim’s thoughts, always, always. So how did he know what it felt like to be all that Jim needed? How could he miss looking into Jim’s eyes and knowing that he was alone in Jim’s thoughts? Ninety-seven percent of the time, Spock held these images at bay. But three percent of the time… he let himself remember.
7.
Sometimes, Spock’s heart betrayed him, flooding over logic like bile rising in his throat. Like now, as Jim told him over the comm that he would be late, he had something to take care of, and Spock knew something had happened in sickbay, knew this was inevitable, but still, his heart flashed bitter jealousy, asked why and what if. But then Jim was asking him to come to sickbay and Spock was there, his hand on Bones’ shoulder, and he could feel the doctor’s pain slipping away under Jim’s words, and his heart forgot its questions, and so did he.
8.
Jim had never wanted to be alone, so he’d mostly spent his alone time throwing cars off cliffs or drinking enough to make the next fight interesting. Now, he never had to be alone, and sometimes it was just too much, the responsibility of being everything to two people at once. Because when you’re everyone to someone, they don’t want to lose you and they don’t want to do anything that might make you leave and they spend their time trying to figure out what you want, trying to make you happy. But sometimes it just makes you feel alone.
9.
Which is why Jim frowned at the sight of Bones and Spock lounging in their quarters, acting desperately casual, like they weren’t waiting for him.
“What’s wrong, Jim?”
“That. That’s what’s wrong. Always asking if I’m okay, like I’m some fragile thing you have to handle with care. Like I’m on a fucking pedestal.”
Spock looked at Bones. “He certainly has a high opinion of himself,” Spock said drily.
Bones raised an eyebrow. “It’s as if he thinks we care about his feelings or something.”
They looked at Jim. He took a deep breath and half-smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s better.”
10.
Jim lounged in his seat in the mess, trying desperately to act like he wasn’t waiting for them. Bones got there first, sliding in across from him, asking where he’d been all day. Jim answered as Spock sat down, giving Jim’s shoulder a squeeze that said the last six hours on the Bridge had been hell without him.
When you’re everyone to someone, they miss you when you’re not there and they don’t want you to be alone. And sometimes it seemed like it could be too much, being everything to two people at once. But sometimes, it was perfect.
Continue to Part 9, Warmth
Author: therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot
Pairings: Kirk/McCoy, Kirk/Spock
Rating: R
Description: An angsty story, told in 10,100-word drabbles.
Part 8 of the Beyond Measure Series.
Previous Installment: Touch
Begin at the beginning: Torn
1.
The official reprimand came as no surprise. What did come as a surprise was that the reprimand took place in Admiral Pike’s office and consisted of a two-minute lecture on discretion, a reminder not to “think with their cocks,” and a champagne toast to their continued happiness.
“Just… try to tone down the drama up there, okay? It would be a damn shame if Lieutenant Uhura got an ulcer trying to keep you three in check."
They stood in shock for a moment, matching eyebrows raised, before they remembered their manners and drank, tasting relief and gratitude in every sip.
2.
"And of course, Starfleet will ensure that the three of you are placed together on future assignments."
"Seriously? What, you have, like, a policy for that?"
"You think you're the first Captain this has ever happened to?"
"Um, yes?"
"Yeah, okay, you may have a point. Still, we're not in the Stone Age here. Hell, we're not in the 21st century. Starfleet recognizes the importance of bonds that form between crewmates - some a little stronger than others, apparently - and we'll do our damndest to make sure those connections remain in place.”
“So will we, Admiral. So will we.”
3.
Pike’s admonition not to think with their cocks was forgotten, as Bones fucked Jim over a sun-warmed boulder while they waited for night to fall.
Afterwards, they lay contentedly on the sand. “Bones, this is the best vacation ever.”
“Dammit Jim, it’s a hostage rescue mission, not a vacation.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Twenty-four hours later, their mission successfully concluded, the grateful queen offered them food and rest in her luxurious palace. Jim looked to Bones, who shook his head, and Jim graciously refused the offer. Outside, Bones’ gaze turned immediately to the sky.
“I miss him, too. Let’s go home.”
4.
Sometimes, Bones remembered when it was just the two of them, and thought it might be nice to have Jim to himself again. Like now, as Spock leaned over them, shaking them out of a deep, warm sleep at some godawful hour for something about routine scans. Jim would have decided to sleep in, or maybe woken him with soft, sleepy kisses. But then Spock was thrusting a cup of hot coffee into his hands and he took a sip and tasted just the right amount of bourbon and saw that Spock had made Jim hot chocolate, and he smiled.
5.
Always, the dream began with Spock on the operating table, green blood everywhere.
Some nights, Bones worked frantically to fix him, hands skilled, technique flawless, but the bleeding wouldn’t stop, and he heard himself call time of death. Those were bad dreams.
Other nights, Bones stood with arms crossed, or idly straightened racks of hyposprays, taking inventory while Spock bled out in front of him. Those were nightmares.
Always, Bones awoke with an anguished cry.
Always, Spock soothed him, saying "Bones, I'm here." Then Bones would clutch his hand and kiss his palm and always, inexplicably, say "I'm sorry, Jim."
6.
Sometimes, Spock found himself missing something he had never had, an illogical, puzzling feeling, the shadow of a memory of a dream. For certainly, he had never known Jim without Bones, without understanding what they had, without sensing Bones in the back of Jim’s thoughts, always, always. So how did he know what it felt like to be all that Jim needed? How could he miss looking into Jim’s eyes and knowing that he was alone in Jim’s thoughts? Ninety-seven percent of the time, Spock held these images at bay. But three percent of the time… he let himself remember.
7.
Sometimes, Spock’s heart betrayed him, flooding over logic like bile rising in his throat. Like now, as Jim told him over the comm that he would be late, he had something to take care of, and Spock knew something had happened in sickbay, knew this was inevitable, but still, his heart flashed bitter jealousy, asked why and what if. But then Jim was asking him to come to sickbay and Spock was there, his hand on Bones’ shoulder, and he could feel the doctor’s pain slipping away under Jim’s words, and his heart forgot its questions, and so did he.
8.
Jim had never wanted to be alone, so he’d mostly spent his alone time throwing cars off cliffs or drinking enough to make the next fight interesting. Now, he never had to be alone, and sometimes it was just too much, the responsibility of being everything to two people at once. Because when you’re everyone to someone, they don’t want to lose you and they don’t want to do anything that might make you leave and they spend their time trying to figure out what you want, trying to make you happy. But sometimes it just makes you feel alone.
9.
Which is why Jim frowned at the sight of Bones and Spock lounging in their quarters, acting desperately casual, like they weren’t waiting for him.
“What’s wrong, Jim?”
“That. That’s what’s wrong. Always asking if I’m okay, like I’m some fragile thing you have to handle with care. Like I’m on a fucking pedestal.”
Spock looked at Bones. “He certainly has a high opinion of himself,” Spock said drily.
Bones raised an eyebrow. “It’s as if he thinks we care about his feelings or something.”
They looked at Jim. He took a deep breath and half-smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s better.”
10.
Jim lounged in his seat in the mess, trying desperately to act like he wasn’t waiting for them. Bones got there first, sliding in across from him, asking where he’d been all day. Jim answered as Spock sat down, giving Jim’s shoulder a squeeze that said the last six hours on the Bridge had been hell without him.
When you’re everyone to someone, they miss you when you’re not there and they don’t want you to be alone. And sometimes it seemed like it could be too much, being everything to two people at once. But sometimes, it was perfect.
Continue to Part 9, Warmth