[fic] drabbles (ST Reboot)
These are just a couple of drabbles I wrote for 1297's latest drabble fest. I may do more if I get Yuletide finished today, but for now...
Breakfast in Bed
Ship: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: teen-ish
Summary: In which an apple is consumed. Prompt was "an apple a day." This was going to be dirtier, but I was at work and my conscience smote me.
"You're doin' it wrong."
"Excuse me," said Jim, with the air of a virtuoso who's just been told he hit a sour note, "but I think I know how to eat an apple."
"Not what I meant," McCoy began. "The saying is..." But he decided to leave it there and just lie back and enjoy the show because yeah, Jim knew how to eat an apple. Knew what to do with an apple, in any case.
Jim scraped his front teeth delicately over the apple's shiny red-and-green skin. The sight of him - soft lips pulled back, dark gold lashes fanning his slightly flushed cheeks - caused something to tighten in McCoy's stomach because oh, he had seen that look before, that smug/hungry/let me show you what I can do look. It almost invariably led to orgasms.
Once he reached the bottom of the apple, Jim paused for a moment, as if in contemplation. McCoy licked his lips. Then, his eyes still closed, Jim flicked his tongue against the apple and began to lick his way back up to the stem. When he reached the top again, he bit down with a loud crunch. Juice dribbled down the apple, down Jim's chin, and onto McCoy's bare chest.
"Slob," McCoy choked out.
Jim swallowed the chunk of apple he'd bitten off. Then, smirking, he lowered his lips to McCoy's chest and began to lap up the juice he'd spilled.
_____
No Need for Words
Ship: Sulu/Kirk
Rating: teen (barely)
Summary: Sometimes a simple thank you is not just inadequate, it's unnecessary.
A/N: YES, I broke from my OTP, albeit briefly. And yes, I resolve to write more about Sulu in the future because he's awesome and I'm starting to have ideas about him.
There's no need for words. Really, there are no words. You can't just say "thank you" to the guy who didn't even hesitate before diving headlong after you, from a platform hundreds of feet above a planet's surface. And, apparently, he can't just say "thank you" after you've come streaking across the galaxy, guns blazing, to save him from being sucked into a black hole.
They don't make greeting cards for shit like that either, so what the hell do you do?
If you're Hikaru Sulu and Jim Kirk, you silently clink beer bottles, and drink long and deep. Of the beer, which is warm and burns your nostrils and the back of your throat. Of each other. He's got bruises everywhere you look, and flecks of dried blood on his cheek, on the long fingers curled around the beer bottle's slender neck. They're kind of beautiful in their way, and you want to touch them, lick them. You wonder if he'd let you. He might. He just might.
If not this time, anyway, then the next time.
Yeah, there'll be a next time.
An understanding passes between between you. All of this? You'll do it again. And again and again. You'll follow him to the ends of the universe and he'll catch you each time you fall.
And it'll be awesome.
There's this silent promise in the blue eyes, this thirst that you recognize right away because it's an echo of what's in your own soul.
Breakfast in Bed
Ship: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: teen-ish
Summary: In which an apple is consumed. Prompt was "an apple a day." This was going to be dirtier, but I was at work and my conscience smote me.
"You're doin' it wrong."
"Excuse me," said Jim, with the air of a virtuoso who's just been told he hit a sour note, "but I think I know how to eat an apple."
"Not what I meant," McCoy began. "The saying is..." But he decided to leave it there and just lie back and enjoy the show because yeah, Jim knew how to eat an apple. Knew what to do with an apple, in any case.
Jim scraped his front teeth delicately over the apple's shiny red-and-green skin. The sight of him - soft lips pulled back, dark gold lashes fanning his slightly flushed cheeks - caused something to tighten in McCoy's stomach because oh, he had seen that look before, that smug/hungry/let me show you what I can do look. It almost invariably led to orgasms.
Once he reached the bottom of the apple, Jim paused for a moment, as if in contemplation. McCoy licked his lips. Then, his eyes still closed, Jim flicked his tongue against the apple and began to lick his way back up to the stem. When he reached the top again, he bit down with a loud crunch. Juice dribbled down the apple, down Jim's chin, and onto McCoy's bare chest.
"Slob," McCoy choked out.
Jim swallowed the chunk of apple he'd bitten off. Then, smirking, he lowered his lips to McCoy's chest and began to lap up the juice he'd spilled.
_____
No Need for Words
Ship: Sulu/Kirk
Rating: teen (barely)
Summary: Sometimes a simple thank you is not just inadequate, it's unnecessary.
A/N: YES, I broke from my OTP, albeit briefly. And yes, I resolve to write more about Sulu in the future because he's awesome and I'm starting to have ideas about him.
There's no need for words. Really, there are no words. You can't just say "thank you" to the guy who didn't even hesitate before diving headlong after you, from a platform hundreds of feet above a planet's surface. And, apparently, he can't just say "thank you" after you've come streaking across the galaxy, guns blazing, to save him from being sucked into a black hole.
They don't make greeting cards for shit like that either, so what the hell do you do?
If you're Hikaru Sulu and Jim Kirk, you silently clink beer bottles, and drink long and deep. Of the beer, which is warm and burns your nostrils and the back of your throat. Of each other. He's got bruises everywhere you look, and flecks of dried blood on his cheek, on the long fingers curled around the beer bottle's slender neck. They're kind of beautiful in their way, and you want to touch them, lick them. You wonder if he'd let you. He might. He just might.
If not this time, anyway, then the next time.
Yeah, there'll be a next time.
An understanding passes between between you. All of this? You'll do it again. And again and again. You'll follow him to the ends of the universe and he'll catch you each time you fall.
And it'll be awesome.
There's this silent promise in the blue eyes, this thirst that you recognize right away because it's an echo of what's in your own soul.