Fic: Attrition With a Side of Coffee (Kirk/McCoy) Rated: PG-13
Title: Attrition With a Side of Coffee
Author: wook77
Recipient: honeyycomb
Fandom: ST:XI
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: character death(s)
Wordcount:~4300
Summary: Attrition has many definitions. Jim Kirk has had coffee with each of them.
Scenario/Kinks chosen: honeyycomb had this brilliant requested scenario of unrequited love and I had to go with that one.
A/N: Many thanks to drusillas_rain for being an amazing beta and putting up with my last minute second request. Many thanks to elanorofcastile for her cheerleading and keeping me on track. Finally, many thanks to the mods for being willing to switch things up for me.
There are two cups of coffee on the tray set on the table next to the bed. It's taken weeks to get a nurse who can prepare them right (cream and sugar in one. Cream and bourbon in the other). The cream's always hazelnut. Nothing better, as far as he's concerned.
Jim sleeps through the nurse bringing the coffee in, keeps sleeping until she arrives with his breakfast. She raises the bed, sets the newest tray across his lap and then reaches for the tray with the coffee.
"Leave it," he tells her even though the coffee's gone cold hours ago.
"But, sir," she starts to say but he cuts her off.
"I still run this place. You'll leave what I tell you to leave."
"Yes, sir," she says, heels clicking on the hard floors as she snaps a salute before pivoting on her heel and exiting the room. She's forgotten to record his vitals but he doesn't really care much about that. Nothing all that vital about him, anymore.
"You shouldn't be so hard on her. Coffee's gone cold. Maybe she'd pour us new," Bones says from the chair next to his bed.
"Like you're going to drink it."
"If you hadn't slept, you could have had every opportunity to drink it, you know."
"I still might."
"As your doctor, gotta say you shouldn't."
"I think I'll drink it just because you said not to."
"What are you, five?"
"Yes, Daddy. You going to spank me?" Jim leers at Bones, lips taking a moment to form the expression.
"You wish," Leonard says as he snorts in derision. "Your vitals look good."
"Not a very subtle change of subject."
"Yeah, well, she should've taken the vitals, checked the readings. Pisspoor nurse that doesn't check the readings."
"She makes the coffee right."
"Cause that's what's important." There's another snort but Jim doesn't find it funny.
"It is, Bones. It's always been important."
Attrition: Wearing down of barriers
Let it be known that one James Tiberius Kirk is an idiot who has, quite probably, made a hell of an error. What in all that's holy had he been thinking when he'd pledged to finish the command track in three years instead of four? Command's already stressful in four, already has a schedule crowded with ridiculous demands. Someday, his pride and ego are going to get him in trouble that he isn't going to be able to finesse his way out of.
Thankfully, that day isn't today, not if he can get a couple of cups of coffee into him before his first class. Except that there's only one mug left and someone else is already reaching for it. He could be nice or he could ensure that he doesn't fail the exam that's coming. Decision made, easily, Jim reaches out, snatches it and starts filling it before the outraged "HEY!" escapes the man's lips.
"Gotta be quicker," he says over his shoulder as he walks towards the finishing station.
"Or more of an asshole."
"That, too." Jim finally looks at the man and his charming smile changes to a genuine one. It's the crazy guy from the shuttle, though he's shaved and much less drunk, but no less crazed looking. "We could share."
"You know how many germs there are in the human mouth?" The man (Leopold? Larry? Something old fashioned that starts with an 'L') cocks an eyebrow. When Jim doesn't answer, the man shakes his head and says, "Didn't think so. I'll wait."
"Suit yourself." Jim dumps powdered creamer into his cup, salutes with the mug and saunters to a table. The bit of sparring with Lester (Luigi? Dammit, he's normally good with names) has invigorated him. Jim sets up the table for studying: mug at the tip of his left hand, padd with his textbook right in front of him and padd for note-taking off to the right, stylus in hand.
When he reaches for that first burst of coffee flavored caffeine, his hand only grabs thin air where the mug should've been. "Hey!"
"Get better creamer!" He looks up to see Lancaster salute in an exact copy of his own salute as the smug, coffee thieving bastard crosses the cafeteria and then exits.
"Son of a bitch," he mutters as he stares at the empty spot on the table.
It takes a week before he runs into one Leonard (at least he knew it was some stupid, old fashioned name that belongs on a ninety-year-old man instead of the very hot, very dickish man that stole his coffee) Horatio McCoy. A week of stalking and intel gathering and way too much time spent on a coffee thieving bastard rather than his demanding schedule. During that week, Jim watches and waits and plots. He's got approaches planned for almost every table in the cafeteria.
When he runs into McCoy, the famed Jim Kirk luck holds out and the soon-to-be victim chooses a table with his back to a door. Idiot. Jim creeps through the door, steps up right behind McCoy, casually reaches over his shoulder and swipes the full mug and then saunters off.
Jim's across the room before he hears "Asshole!" behind him. When he turns around, Jim salutes with the mug, takes a sip, and the hazelnut cream bursts over his tongue. It's so much better than the powdered crap that he's been drinking. Man might be a coffee thief but he's got taste. With a smile, Jim salutes once more and then heads to class, the taste of hazelnut following him.
He should've known that McCoy would get revenge. After all, this little war had started with McCoy, but Jim's too busy with mid-terms, thinking in a variety of languages (spoken and programming) so he's not thinking about what'll happen when he journeys to an off-campus coffee shop for a study session. At that moment, the only thing Jim's really thinking about is whether he can get the Deltan sitting across the table. He's not thinking that McCoy's walking up beside the table, reaching down to grab the oversized soup bowl that's masquerading as a coffee mug and then drinking out of it.
"Better."
"Huh?" It's a brilliant retort considering that his brain has to switch gears so abruptly. The Deltan laughs at him as he goggles at McCoy drinking his coffee.
"Good to see you can be taught." McCoy salutes with the mug.
"That's my coffee."
"No shit. Appreciate it," McCoy says as he nods to the rest of the group and then walks off.
"Dammit!" Jim curses and hurries after McCoy. "You can't just steal a guy's coffee!"
"But I just did, kid."
"You're a coffee thief."
"You're a mug thief so I figure we're even."
"It was there, fair and square."
"And almost in my hand."
"Yeah, well, a mug in the hand is worth two on the tray."
"And it's a very tasty mug," McCoy says as he sips at the coffee. "You decide to grow up from that powdered crap?"
"You track me here just to steal my coffee?" Jim asks as he takes a step closer, enjoying the way that McCoy's eyes widen.
"Don't flatter yourself. I've got rotations just down the street. Pure luck led me here to this amazing and free coffee." McCoy takes another sip, a small bit of foam resting on his upper lip.
Seducing the coffee from McCoy would be the same as stealing it, Jim decides. Thus, he takes a step closer to McCoy, enjoying the way that he freezes in place as their bodies line up. Jim brushes his fingers over McCoy's upper lip and then licks at the foam. "Had a bit of foam."
"This shit work on other people?" McCoy moves the cup just out of Jim's reach. Dammit.
"Usually."
McCoy laughs, a happy sound that surprises Jim. "You mind stepping out of my way?"
"Nope."
"You going to?"
"Maybe."
"What'll it take?"
"Coffee. Tomorrow morning. 6. Here. You pay."
"All right."
~*~
"It isn't just a cup of coffee," Jim says fiercely. He's braced for an argument, or some sort of sarcastic retort. He's rendered speechless when Bones only looks at him, face sad and mouth agape. Finally, Bones only says, "I know."
Attrition: Wearing down of an enemy due to loss of personnel and/or supplies
They carve out the time to meet for coffee as the Enterprise limps back to Earth. They're both beyond tired, to the point where the caffeine isn't going to make a difference. It's the connection that Jim wants, that feeling of home that he gets when he's sitting across the table from Bones, hazelnut on his tongue and nerves in his gut.
He gets it as their knees press against one another under the small table and their hands brush against one another as they fix their coffee, hands brushing as they reach for the creamer and then the pot of coffee.
"You did really well out there," Bones says, breaking the silence of the room.
"Thanks," Jim says, not used to Bones's praise.
"Any idea when we'll get back to Earth?"
"Few days. 'Fleet is sending out a few ships to tug us there faster." Jim can see the way that Bones wants to say something else from the way that Bones's hands aren't still. Reaching out, Jim covers Bones's hands with his own. There are a thousand and one things that Jim wants to say. Things like I'm all right with the way that you let Spock jettison me off the ship or In the big scheme of things, you tried to protect me from myself. Thanks or even Just touch me. Please.. He doesn't say any of it. He can't. It'd be too much after the day and a bit that they've had.
"Now drink your coffee before I do." It's only when they exchange smiles that Jim realizes his hands are still gripping Bones's hands and cheek. It takes just a moment longer to realize that Bones is leaning his face into Jim's touch, gripping Jim's hand between his own.
Bones's comm goes off just as Jim's does. Jim removes his hands, feels melodramatic for just a moment as he loses touch with Bones while he answers Spock's query. "Captain?"
"Yeah, Spock?" Jim barely hears Bones communicating with Chapel.
"As we have just transferred shifts, I would recommend downtime for yourself."
"Not going to argue with you. I'll be back on the Bridge in six hours."
"I will see you in seven hours, Captain." Spock disconnects while Jim stares at his communicator.
"I've got eight hours of sleep coming. You?" Bones asks.
"Seven."
"Let's go."
They finish the coffee and head out of the mess towards the officer quarters. It's only then that Jim realizes he probably doesn't have a room, and definitely doesn't have a change of clothing since Bones had snuck him onto the ship, leaving his bag behind. "Well, shit."
"What?"
"No where to sleep."
"You can bunk with me," Bones says it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"You sure? I bet there's a room somewhere. Would have to be, right?"
"I'd rather keep you where I can see you. Make sure you get those hours of sleep instead of just faking it."
"I never fake it," Jim says, his normal leer falling far short.
"Just come in." By now, they're at Bones's quarters.
It's quick work to strip down and fall into the tiny bunk that's barely wide enough for one, a tangle of limbs and breath as they maneuver. By the time they settle fully, Jim's got his head pillowed on Bones's shoulder and Bones's hand in his hair. Bones's heartbeat is solid under his cheek, reminding him that they're here and that Earth will be, too.
"I can hear your brain working. Knock it off." Bones's hand drifts from his hair, rubbing along Jim's neck and then spine before drifting back up. It's just what he needs to send him the rest of the way into sleep.
When he wakes up, it takes him a minute to figure out that it's an arm around his waist rather than a restraint and that it's Bones pressed up against his back. It's another minute (not that he'll admit to it), to realize that Bones is hard and lightly frotting against him. It's another minute before Jim realizes that he's pressing back into it. His dick is so painfully hard that his world narrows to the feel of Bones behind him and his own hand in front of him.
He can tell the exact moment that Bones figures out just what they're doing as he freezes. Jim keeps his breath deep and easy. Bones mutters behind him before his hand drifts up Jim's chest and then back down again. It's hard to resist arching into the touch but he does resist and thanks every creator he's ever heard of as Bones's hand drifts to the waistband of his underwear.
"What the hell am I doing?" Bones mutters, louder this time, and then all of Bones's warmth disappears. By the time Jim's alarm goes off a few minutes later, Jim still hasn't figured out what happened and why.
~*~
"What do you mean, 'I know'?" Jim keeps his voice calm, tries to keep his heart from racing. He doesn't want to summon the nurse back in. He breathes in the scent of coffee that still lingers in the air, telling him that the coffee is right next to the bed, just where he's demanded that it be every time she's come in.
"I know, Jim. I've always known that it's more than coffee. It's all about us." Bones reaches out and then stops, hand falling to his lap. "It's about the way that you love me and I love you."
Attrition: Loss of original language due to combination of second language combining in usage and syntax with the original language.
The first time Jim meets Carol, he thinks that she seems awfully familiar. He's drawn to her, the way that she glares at him and then shakes her head before grinning, lightning quick. She teases him and acts far too serious for her own good. Even her hair is too serious, cut short and severe, almost boyish. He can't help but try to drag more and more smiles out of her, watch the way that her brown eyes light up even as her face wears a snarl and her lips curse at him.
It's only when they're fucking for the first time that Jim realizes just what it is that seems so familiar. If Bones were female… well, if Bones were female, then this still wouldn't be happening because Bones hasn't done a damned thing since Vulcan's destruction three years ago.
The relationship is good while it lasts. Enterprise is only at the station for a short period of time, ferrying supplies and personnel to Carol's project. Besides, Carol and he are far too married to their careers to do anything but break apart when it's time to ship out to the next exploratory mission.
Trust Bones to ask about it, though. At least he waits until they're sitting down with coffee. "Guess I know where you're spending your next leave at."
"Yeah, you and me, we're going to Earth, remember? Got a date with your daughter and a camping trip."
"Thought maybe you'd want to go back to Carol." Bones fiddles with the coffee mug, making Jim wonder just what's bothering Bones.
"Why would I want to do that?"
"You guys seemed pretty fond of one another."
"Well, yeah. She's a nice lady and one helluva lay."
"That all she is to you?"
"Well, not exactly." Jim's prevaricating but he knows how Bones loves Joanna, knows what it does to him not to get to see her all the time.
"What else is she to you if not …"
"She wanted a baby and I thought, 'why not' and, so, she's going to - "
"Jesus, Jim! And you're not planning on visiting her at least? What sort of - "
"Bones! Calm down. We talked about it. She wants to have a baby and stay at the station. I want to stay on the Enterprise. It works for us."
"Thought you loved her."
"I loved the idea of her."
"What's that mean?"
"It…" Jim's voice trails off as he stumbles over what to say. They've never been good at emotions or, even worse, talking about emotions. They don't do this so Jim has no idea how to even start. "She reminded me of someone else. Took me awhile to figure it out but once I did, I realized it wasn't fair."
"But it's fair to leave your kid?"
"No but it works for us." Jim wants to say that he's not like Leonard, that he's not good at the whole parenting thing, that he's not just abandoning his kid and that Bones never did abandon his kid. He wants to tell Bones that Joanna was stolen from him rather than abandoned by him.
He doesn't get a chance as Bones walks away from him. It's weeks before they meet for coffee again.
~*~
"Even one word from you and I would've…" Jim's voice trails off. It's too late now. His time's numbered in days if not hours. Besides, Bones… well, Bones is beside the point.
"You would've what? Stopped fucking around with everything that walked past? Actually took some sort of responsibility for what you left behind?" Bones stares at him and Jim feels like there's supposed to be some sort of message in that look, that look that would say something important if Jim only knew what language it's in.
"What?"
"Dammit, Jim. You couldn't commit to anyone then. I - "
"One word from you and I would've committed to you. I would've given up everything for you." Jim's angry, so angry that his breath catches and he has a coughing fit. Bones stands up and wipes at Jim's chin, not remarking on the blood that Jim's coughed up.
Attrition: Loss of employees and/or personnel due to various reasons.
Jim can count, on one hand, just how many times Winona had attempted anything maternal. One of those times was shortly after Jim had fallen off the antique grain silo he'd attempted to climb. He'd lucked out with minor cuts and bruises but Winona had still scooped him up, hopped onto the glide and hurried him into the bathroom to tend to his bumps. It had been weird that she hadn't used the regenerator that sat in the medicine cabinet. Instead, she'd cleaned out the cuts by hand and then put plasters on them. After that, she'd tucked him into bed then delivered an ice cream and actually read to him until he fell asleep. Normally, she would've set the recorder to read to him but, this time, he'd felt his mother's warmth the entire night.
In the morning, she'd sat him down on the closed toilet seat and prepared him to have the plaster removed. "You want it off quick or slow?"
"Fast. It hurts less."
"Slow hurts less."
"Nuh-uh. Fast has a bigger hurt but then it's over. Slow is lots of little hurts and it takes forever. Slow hurts more."
"Fast it is, little man."
It's no wonder that Jim's thinking about fast versus slow and one big hurt versus lots of little ones, As he sits next to Bones's biobed with the sensors randomly beeping out their bad news BonesisdyingBonesisdyingBonesisdying. His opinion on how he wants these sorts of things to go hasn't changed since he was four. He's just gotten better at climbing grain silos.
On the rare occasions that he's contemplated their separation, it had always been fast. And it had always been him that dies. It had always been Bones left behind. He's selfish enough to admit that he'd never even thought of being the one left behind.
Instead, he's left with lots of little pains. The first had been the diagnosis. The second had been the deterioration over months and months. But the worst one had been the constant ups and downs of hope.
Now he understands what his mother had been through with his father's heroic sacrifice. To a point. After all, at least she'd known what his father's lips felt like against hers. She'd known what it felt like to hear 'I love you' fall from the lips and know it's meant. She'd had it and Jim's never had it. Never will have it.
"Shim," Bones whispers. His hand twitches and Jim leaps at the opportunity, entwining their fingers and squeezing lightly.
"Yeah, Bones?"
"No' lon' now." Bones's head flops to the side to face Jim even though the disease stole Bones's sight weeks ago.
"We still have time. I don't believe in no win scenarios, remember? Besides, Spock's on it. If anyone can figure it out, he can."
"Can't win thissun."
"You want your coffee?" It's an unsubtle change of subject but Jim doesn't care for the subtleties any longer. He just wants Bones hale and healthy again.
"Jus'… jus' hol'o't'me - " Bones coughs, blood coloring his spittle.
"I'll hold on but you, too. Please, Bones, you too." It's as close as he's ever gotten to telling Bones how he feels. He's not ashamed of the tears choking him and making his voice shaky. Besides, his voice can match his hands as his empty one grabs a cloth and wipes Bones's mouth. "Don't leave me," he whispers as he's bent over Bones.
"I don't wanna but I gotta. Sorry, Jim."
The sensors go off suddenly and Bones's room is filled with medical personnel. They push Jim further and further away from Bones but he keeps their hands entwined. He won't let go because he'd promised, dammit, and there's no way that he's leaving Bones alone in the dark.
Bones's body wrenches up from the bed, tugging Jim through the sea of bodies and then it collapses. The sensors cease their noise and the medical staff's motions are no longer frantic. Instead, they're resigned, quiet and professional as one closes Bones's eyelids over his cloudy eyes.
Jim wants to demand that they bring Bones back, do what he would've done for any of them. Except the plaster's finally come off Bones's suffering, his little pains over the past six months ending with the final tear.
Turns out the end result is the same.
He's still holding on to Bones's hand, clasping it ferociously even when the medical personnel look at him askance. It's only when Spock comes in, places his hand over Jim's and then slowly pulls his fingers back that Jim realizes that anyone has entered medbay. Jim can't stand to see if Spock is looking at him with pity. Instead, he acknowledges that he's emotionally compromised and turns over command to Spock.
Two weeks later (two weeks, four days, seventeen hours, twenty-three minutes and fifteensixteenseventeen seconds) that the Enterprise encounters an odd asteroid and the cure that would've saved Bones.
Attrition: Imperfect Contrition in Catholicism. The act of confessing sins not due to love of God but due to fear of sin and punishment.
" You couldn't see that I loved you?" Jim's anger sweeps over him, causing his heart rate to spike.
"Calm down or the nurse'll be in here."
"Fuck the nurse and fuck you, too. Can't believe you couldn't even give me that. You're a selfish bastard, Leonard McCoy."
"Sorry for not wanting to be another in a string of conquests. You would've walked away eventually and I would've lost you."
"You wouldn't have lost me."
"How was I to know that? Hell, wouldn't have said it now if you weren't…"
"Weren't what? An old man?"
"Dying. If you weren't dying. Only reason I'm telling you now is because you're dying with regrets and I can't let you do that like I did."
The nurse enters and tries to take the tray one more time. Jim lets her do it though he requests, "Will you make fresh cups for Bones and I, please?"
"Bones, sir?" The nurse looks about the room and then looks back at Jim. The silence stretches uncomfortably.
"My friend."
"I wasn't aware that you were expecting a visitor, sir. I'll log the change of your schedule."
"He's already here." Jim rolls his eyes at the nurse and thinks about having to request another nurse, one that can clearly see Bones sitting in the chair next to his bed.
"Sir?"
"Just make two fresh cups of coffee," he snarls at her as he resists saying anything harsher to her.
"Yes, sir." The nurse leaves after shooting one more glance about the room.
"You wouldn't have tolerated such idiocy," he says to Bones.
"Hard to see the dead, Jim."
Oh. He'd forgotten. But. But. "I can see you."
"You're blind, Jim."
"Doesn't mean anything."
"And you're dying."
"So?"
"So, you kept your promise and I'm keeping the one I wouldn't make you. I'm not leaving you in the dark just like you wouldn't leave me."
"But you did leave me," he whispers it, the pain coming back as the memory sweeps through.
"Not completely. I've always been here," Bones says before pausing to touch Jim's head. "And here." Bones lays his palm on Jim's chest, the warmth seeping into his frail body. "And you've been here." Bones puts Jim's palm over Bones's heart. "Always."
"Bones."
"Not long now, Jim."
"What's it like?" Jim reaches out and, this time, finally, he feels Bones entwine their fingers together, giving his hand a quick squeeze. He's not afraid of what's to come but he wants to know what to expect, just in case it doesn't turn out the way that he's expecting. Bones stands up and then sits down on the bed, mattress dipping under his weight and making Jim roll towards him slightly. Bones's kiss across his forehead feels like a sigh of air, a breath of promise of great things to come.
"Buckle up, Jim," Bones says with a grin.
As always, I'd love to hear what you thought.
Author: wook77
Recipient: honeyycomb
Fandom: ST:XI
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: character death(s)
Wordcount:~4300
Summary: Attrition has many definitions. Jim Kirk has had coffee with each of them.
Scenario/Kinks chosen: honeyycomb had this brilliant requested scenario of unrequited love and I had to go with that one.
A/N: Many thanks to drusillas_rain for being an amazing beta and putting up with my last minute second request. Many thanks to elanorofcastile for her cheerleading and keeping me on track. Finally, many thanks to the mods for being willing to switch things up for me.
There are two cups of coffee on the tray set on the table next to the bed. It's taken weeks to get a nurse who can prepare them right (cream and sugar in one. Cream and bourbon in the other). The cream's always hazelnut. Nothing better, as far as he's concerned.
Jim sleeps through the nurse bringing the coffee in, keeps sleeping until she arrives with his breakfast. She raises the bed, sets the newest tray across his lap and then reaches for the tray with the coffee.
"Leave it," he tells her even though the coffee's gone cold hours ago.
"But, sir," she starts to say but he cuts her off.
"I still run this place. You'll leave what I tell you to leave."
"Yes, sir," she says, heels clicking on the hard floors as she snaps a salute before pivoting on her heel and exiting the room. She's forgotten to record his vitals but he doesn't really care much about that. Nothing all that vital about him, anymore.
"You shouldn't be so hard on her. Coffee's gone cold. Maybe she'd pour us new," Bones says from the chair next to his bed.
"Like you're going to drink it."
"If you hadn't slept, you could have had every opportunity to drink it, you know."
"I still might."
"As your doctor, gotta say you shouldn't."
"I think I'll drink it just because you said not to."
"What are you, five?"
"Yes, Daddy. You going to spank me?" Jim leers at Bones, lips taking a moment to form the expression.
"You wish," Leonard says as he snorts in derision. "Your vitals look good."
"Not a very subtle change of subject."
"Yeah, well, she should've taken the vitals, checked the readings. Pisspoor nurse that doesn't check the readings."
"She makes the coffee right."
"Cause that's what's important." There's another snort but Jim doesn't find it funny.
"It is, Bones. It's always been important."
Attrition: Wearing down of barriers
Let it be known that one James Tiberius Kirk is an idiot who has, quite probably, made a hell of an error. What in all that's holy had he been thinking when he'd pledged to finish the command track in three years instead of four? Command's already stressful in four, already has a schedule crowded with ridiculous demands. Someday, his pride and ego are going to get him in trouble that he isn't going to be able to finesse his way out of.
Thankfully, that day isn't today, not if he can get a couple of cups of coffee into him before his first class. Except that there's only one mug left and someone else is already reaching for it. He could be nice or he could ensure that he doesn't fail the exam that's coming. Decision made, easily, Jim reaches out, snatches it and starts filling it before the outraged "HEY!" escapes the man's lips.
"Gotta be quicker," he says over his shoulder as he walks towards the finishing station.
"Or more of an asshole."
"That, too." Jim finally looks at the man and his charming smile changes to a genuine one. It's the crazy guy from the shuttle, though he's shaved and much less drunk, but no less crazed looking. "We could share."
"You know how many germs there are in the human mouth?" The man (Leopold? Larry? Something old fashioned that starts with an 'L') cocks an eyebrow. When Jim doesn't answer, the man shakes his head and says, "Didn't think so. I'll wait."
"Suit yourself." Jim dumps powdered creamer into his cup, salutes with the mug and saunters to a table. The bit of sparring with Lester (Luigi? Dammit, he's normally good with names) has invigorated him. Jim sets up the table for studying: mug at the tip of his left hand, padd with his textbook right in front of him and padd for note-taking off to the right, stylus in hand.
When he reaches for that first burst of coffee flavored caffeine, his hand only grabs thin air where the mug should've been. "Hey!"
"Get better creamer!" He looks up to see Lancaster salute in an exact copy of his own salute as the smug, coffee thieving bastard crosses the cafeteria and then exits.
"Son of a bitch," he mutters as he stares at the empty spot on the table.
It takes a week before he runs into one Leonard (at least he knew it was some stupid, old fashioned name that belongs on a ninety-year-old man instead of the very hot, very dickish man that stole his coffee) Horatio McCoy. A week of stalking and intel gathering and way too much time spent on a coffee thieving bastard rather than his demanding schedule. During that week, Jim watches and waits and plots. He's got approaches planned for almost every table in the cafeteria.
When he runs into McCoy, the famed Jim Kirk luck holds out and the soon-to-be victim chooses a table with his back to a door. Idiot. Jim creeps through the door, steps up right behind McCoy, casually reaches over his shoulder and swipes the full mug and then saunters off.
Jim's across the room before he hears "Asshole!" behind him. When he turns around, Jim salutes with the mug, takes a sip, and the hazelnut cream bursts over his tongue. It's so much better than the powdered crap that he's been drinking. Man might be a coffee thief but he's got taste. With a smile, Jim salutes once more and then heads to class, the taste of hazelnut following him.
He should've known that McCoy would get revenge. After all, this little war had started with McCoy, but Jim's too busy with mid-terms, thinking in a variety of languages (spoken and programming) so he's not thinking about what'll happen when he journeys to an off-campus coffee shop for a study session. At that moment, the only thing Jim's really thinking about is whether he can get the Deltan sitting across the table. He's not thinking that McCoy's walking up beside the table, reaching down to grab the oversized soup bowl that's masquerading as a coffee mug and then drinking out of it.
"Better."
"Huh?" It's a brilliant retort considering that his brain has to switch gears so abruptly. The Deltan laughs at him as he goggles at McCoy drinking his coffee.
"Good to see you can be taught." McCoy salutes with the mug.
"That's my coffee."
"No shit. Appreciate it," McCoy says as he nods to the rest of the group and then walks off.
"Dammit!" Jim curses and hurries after McCoy. "You can't just steal a guy's coffee!"
"But I just did, kid."
"You're a coffee thief."
"You're a mug thief so I figure we're even."
"It was there, fair and square."
"And almost in my hand."
"Yeah, well, a mug in the hand is worth two on the tray."
"And it's a very tasty mug," McCoy says as he sips at the coffee. "You decide to grow up from that powdered crap?"
"You track me here just to steal my coffee?" Jim asks as he takes a step closer, enjoying the way that McCoy's eyes widen.
"Don't flatter yourself. I've got rotations just down the street. Pure luck led me here to this amazing and free coffee." McCoy takes another sip, a small bit of foam resting on his upper lip.
Seducing the coffee from McCoy would be the same as stealing it, Jim decides. Thus, he takes a step closer to McCoy, enjoying the way that he freezes in place as their bodies line up. Jim brushes his fingers over McCoy's upper lip and then licks at the foam. "Had a bit of foam."
"This shit work on other people?" McCoy moves the cup just out of Jim's reach. Dammit.
"Usually."
McCoy laughs, a happy sound that surprises Jim. "You mind stepping out of my way?"
"Nope."
"You going to?"
"Maybe."
"What'll it take?"
"Coffee. Tomorrow morning. 6. Here. You pay."
"All right."
~*~
"It isn't just a cup of coffee," Jim says fiercely. He's braced for an argument, or some sort of sarcastic retort. He's rendered speechless when Bones only looks at him, face sad and mouth agape. Finally, Bones only says, "I know."
Attrition: Wearing down of an enemy due to loss of personnel and/or supplies
They carve out the time to meet for coffee as the Enterprise limps back to Earth. They're both beyond tired, to the point where the caffeine isn't going to make a difference. It's the connection that Jim wants, that feeling of home that he gets when he's sitting across the table from Bones, hazelnut on his tongue and nerves in his gut.
He gets it as their knees press against one another under the small table and their hands brush against one another as they fix their coffee, hands brushing as they reach for the creamer and then the pot of coffee.
"You did really well out there," Bones says, breaking the silence of the room.
"Thanks," Jim says, not used to Bones's praise.
"Any idea when we'll get back to Earth?"
"Few days. 'Fleet is sending out a few ships to tug us there faster." Jim can see the way that Bones wants to say something else from the way that Bones's hands aren't still. Reaching out, Jim covers Bones's hands with his own. There are a thousand and one things that Jim wants to say. Things like I'm all right with the way that you let Spock jettison me off the ship or In the big scheme of things, you tried to protect me from myself. Thanks or even Just touch me. Please.. He doesn't say any of it. He can't. It'd be too much after the day and a bit that they've had.
"Now drink your coffee before I do." It's only when they exchange smiles that Jim realizes his hands are still gripping Bones's hands and cheek. It takes just a moment longer to realize that Bones is leaning his face into Jim's touch, gripping Jim's hand between his own.
Bones's comm goes off just as Jim's does. Jim removes his hands, feels melodramatic for just a moment as he loses touch with Bones while he answers Spock's query. "Captain?"
"Yeah, Spock?" Jim barely hears Bones communicating with Chapel.
"As we have just transferred shifts, I would recommend downtime for yourself."
"Not going to argue with you. I'll be back on the Bridge in six hours."
"I will see you in seven hours, Captain." Spock disconnects while Jim stares at his communicator.
"I've got eight hours of sleep coming. You?" Bones asks.
"Seven."
"Let's go."
They finish the coffee and head out of the mess towards the officer quarters. It's only then that Jim realizes he probably doesn't have a room, and definitely doesn't have a change of clothing since Bones had snuck him onto the ship, leaving his bag behind. "Well, shit."
"What?"
"No where to sleep."
"You can bunk with me," Bones says it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"You sure? I bet there's a room somewhere. Would have to be, right?"
"I'd rather keep you where I can see you. Make sure you get those hours of sleep instead of just faking it."
"I never fake it," Jim says, his normal leer falling far short.
"Just come in." By now, they're at Bones's quarters.
It's quick work to strip down and fall into the tiny bunk that's barely wide enough for one, a tangle of limbs and breath as they maneuver. By the time they settle fully, Jim's got his head pillowed on Bones's shoulder and Bones's hand in his hair. Bones's heartbeat is solid under his cheek, reminding him that they're here and that Earth will be, too.
"I can hear your brain working. Knock it off." Bones's hand drifts from his hair, rubbing along Jim's neck and then spine before drifting back up. It's just what he needs to send him the rest of the way into sleep.
When he wakes up, it takes him a minute to figure out that it's an arm around his waist rather than a restraint and that it's Bones pressed up against his back. It's another minute (not that he'll admit to it), to realize that Bones is hard and lightly frotting against him. It's another minute before Jim realizes that he's pressing back into it. His dick is so painfully hard that his world narrows to the feel of Bones behind him and his own hand in front of him.
He can tell the exact moment that Bones figures out just what they're doing as he freezes. Jim keeps his breath deep and easy. Bones mutters behind him before his hand drifts up Jim's chest and then back down again. It's hard to resist arching into the touch but he does resist and thanks every creator he's ever heard of as Bones's hand drifts to the waistband of his underwear.
"What the hell am I doing?" Bones mutters, louder this time, and then all of Bones's warmth disappears. By the time Jim's alarm goes off a few minutes later, Jim still hasn't figured out what happened and why.
~*~
"What do you mean, 'I know'?" Jim keeps his voice calm, tries to keep his heart from racing. He doesn't want to summon the nurse back in. He breathes in the scent of coffee that still lingers in the air, telling him that the coffee is right next to the bed, just where he's demanded that it be every time she's come in.
"I know, Jim. I've always known that it's more than coffee. It's all about us." Bones reaches out and then stops, hand falling to his lap. "It's about the way that you love me and I love you."
Attrition: Loss of original language due to combination of second language combining in usage and syntax with the original language.
The first time Jim meets Carol, he thinks that she seems awfully familiar. He's drawn to her, the way that she glares at him and then shakes her head before grinning, lightning quick. She teases him and acts far too serious for her own good. Even her hair is too serious, cut short and severe, almost boyish. He can't help but try to drag more and more smiles out of her, watch the way that her brown eyes light up even as her face wears a snarl and her lips curse at him.
It's only when they're fucking for the first time that Jim realizes just what it is that seems so familiar. If Bones were female… well, if Bones were female, then this still wouldn't be happening because Bones hasn't done a damned thing since Vulcan's destruction three years ago.
The relationship is good while it lasts. Enterprise is only at the station for a short period of time, ferrying supplies and personnel to Carol's project. Besides, Carol and he are far too married to their careers to do anything but break apart when it's time to ship out to the next exploratory mission.
Trust Bones to ask about it, though. At least he waits until they're sitting down with coffee. "Guess I know where you're spending your next leave at."
"Yeah, you and me, we're going to Earth, remember? Got a date with your daughter and a camping trip."
"Thought maybe you'd want to go back to Carol." Bones fiddles with the coffee mug, making Jim wonder just what's bothering Bones.
"Why would I want to do that?"
"You guys seemed pretty fond of one another."
"Well, yeah. She's a nice lady and one helluva lay."
"That all she is to you?"
"Well, not exactly." Jim's prevaricating but he knows how Bones loves Joanna, knows what it does to him not to get to see her all the time.
"What else is she to you if not …"
"She wanted a baby and I thought, 'why not' and, so, she's going to - "
"Jesus, Jim! And you're not planning on visiting her at least? What sort of - "
"Bones! Calm down. We talked about it. She wants to have a baby and stay at the station. I want to stay on the Enterprise. It works for us."
"Thought you loved her."
"I loved the idea of her."
"What's that mean?"
"It…" Jim's voice trails off as he stumbles over what to say. They've never been good at emotions or, even worse, talking about emotions. They don't do this so Jim has no idea how to even start. "She reminded me of someone else. Took me awhile to figure it out but once I did, I realized it wasn't fair."
"But it's fair to leave your kid?"
"No but it works for us." Jim wants to say that he's not like Leonard, that he's not good at the whole parenting thing, that he's not just abandoning his kid and that Bones never did abandon his kid. He wants to tell Bones that Joanna was stolen from him rather than abandoned by him.
He doesn't get a chance as Bones walks away from him. It's weeks before they meet for coffee again.
~*~
"Even one word from you and I would've…" Jim's voice trails off. It's too late now. His time's numbered in days if not hours. Besides, Bones… well, Bones is beside the point.
"You would've what? Stopped fucking around with everything that walked past? Actually took some sort of responsibility for what you left behind?" Bones stares at him and Jim feels like there's supposed to be some sort of message in that look, that look that would say something important if Jim only knew what language it's in.
"What?"
"Dammit, Jim. You couldn't commit to anyone then. I - "
"One word from you and I would've committed to you. I would've given up everything for you." Jim's angry, so angry that his breath catches and he has a coughing fit. Bones stands up and wipes at Jim's chin, not remarking on the blood that Jim's coughed up.
Attrition: Loss of employees and/or personnel due to various reasons.
Jim can count, on one hand, just how many times Winona had attempted anything maternal. One of those times was shortly after Jim had fallen off the antique grain silo he'd attempted to climb. He'd lucked out with minor cuts and bruises but Winona had still scooped him up, hopped onto the glide and hurried him into the bathroom to tend to his bumps. It had been weird that she hadn't used the regenerator that sat in the medicine cabinet. Instead, she'd cleaned out the cuts by hand and then put plasters on them. After that, she'd tucked him into bed then delivered an ice cream and actually read to him until he fell asleep. Normally, she would've set the recorder to read to him but, this time, he'd felt his mother's warmth the entire night.
In the morning, she'd sat him down on the closed toilet seat and prepared him to have the plaster removed. "You want it off quick or slow?"
"Fast. It hurts less."
"Slow hurts less."
"Nuh-uh. Fast has a bigger hurt but then it's over. Slow is lots of little hurts and it takes forever. Slow hurts more."
"Fast it is, little man."
It's no wonder that Jim's thinking about fast versus slow and one big hurt versus lots of little ones, As he sits next to Bones's biobed with the sensors randomly beeping out their bad news BonesisdyingBonesisdyingBonesisdying. His opinion on how he wants these sorts of things to go hasn't changed since he was four. He's just gotten better at climbing grain silos.
On the rare occasions that he's contemplated their separation, it had always been fast. And it had always been him that dies. It had always been Bones left behind. He's selfish enough to admit that he'd never even thought of being the one left behind.
Instead, he's left with lots of little pains. The first had been the diagnosis. The second had been the deterioration over months and months. But the worst one had been the constant ups and downs of hope.
Now he understands what his mother had been through with his father's heroic sacrifice. To a point. After all, at least she'd known what his father's lips felt like against hers. She'd known what it felt like to hear 'I love you' fall from the lips and know it's meant. She'd had it and Jim's never had it. Never will have it.
"Shim," Bones whispers. His hand twitches and Jim leaps at the opportunity, entwining their fingers and squeezing lightly.
"Yeah, Bones?"
"No' lon' now." Bones's head flops to the side to face Jim even though the disease stole Bones's sight weeks ago.
"We still have time. I don't believe in no win scenarios, remember? Besides, Spock's on it. If anyone can figure it out, he can."
"Can't win thissun."
"You want your coffee?" It's an unsubtle change of subject but Jim doesn't care for the subtleties any longer. He just wants Bones hale and healthy again.
"Jus'… jus' hol'o't'me - " Bones coughs, blood coloring his spittle.
"I'll hold on but you, too. Please, Bones, you too." It's as close as he's ever gotten to telling Bones how he feels. He's not ashamed of the tears choking him and making his voice shaky. Besides, his voice can match his hands as his empty one grabs a cloth and wipes Bones's mouth. "Don't leave me," he whispers as he's bent over Bones.
"I don't wanna but I gotta. Sorry, Jim."
The sensors go off suddenly and Bones's room is filled with medical personnel. They push Jim further and further away from Bones but he keeps their hands entwined. He won't let go because he'd promised, dammit, and there's no way that he's leaving Bones alone in the dark.
Bones's body wrenches up from the bed, tugging Jim through the sea of bodies and then it collapses. The sensors cease their noise and the medical staff's motions are no longer frantic. Instead, they're resigned, quiet and professional as one closes Bones's eyelids over his cloudy eyes.
Jim wants to demand that they bring Bones back, do what he would've done for any of them. Except the plaster's finally come off Bones's suffering, his little pains over the past six months ending with the final tear.
Turns out the end result is the same.
He's still holding on to Bones's hand, clasping it ferociously even when the medical personnel look at him askance. It's only when Spock comes in, places his hand over Jim's and then slowly pulls his fingers back that Jim realizes that anyone has entered medbay. Jim can't stand to see if Spock is looking at him with pity. Instead, he acknowledges that he's emotionally compromised and turns over command to Spock.
Two weeks later (two weeks, four days, seventeen hours, twenty-three minutes and fifteensixteenseventeen seconds) that the Enterprise encounters an odd asteroid and the cure that would've saved Bones.
Attrition: Imperfect Contrition in Catholicism. The act of confessing sins not due to love of God but due to fear of sin and punishment.
" You couldn't see that I loved you?" Jim's anger sweeps over him, causing his heart rate to spike.
"Calm down or the nurse'll be in here."
"Fuck the nurse and fuck you, too. Can't believe you couldn't even give me that. You're a selfish bastard, Leonard McCoy."
"Sorry for not wanting to be another in a string of conquests. You would've walked away eventually and I would've lost you."
"You wouldn't have lost me."
"How was I to know that? Hell, wouldn't have said it now if you weren't…"
"Weren't what? An old man?"
"Dying. If you weren't dying. Only reason I'm telling you now is because you're dying with regrets and I can't let you do that like I did."
The nurse enters and tries to take the tray one more time. Jim lets her do it though he requests, "Will you make fresh cups for Bones and I, please?"
"Bones, sir?" The nurse looks about the room and then looks back at Jim. The silence stretches uncomfortably.
"My friend."
"I wasn't aware that you were expecting a visitor, sir. I'll log the change of your schedule."
"He's already here." Jim rolls his eyes at the nurse and thinks about having to request another nurse, one that can clearly see Bones sitting in the chair next to his bed.
"Sir?"
"Just make two fresh cups of coffee," he snarls at her as he resists saying anything harsher to her.
"Yes, sir." The nurse leaves after shooting one more glance about the room.
"You wouldn't have tolerated such idiocy," he says to Bones.
"Hard to see the dead, Jim."
Oh. He'd forgotten. But. But. "I can see you."
"You're blind, Jim."
"Doesn't mean anything."
"And you're dying."
"So?"
"So, you kept your promise and I'm keeping the one I wouldn't make you. I'm not leaving you in the dark just like you wouldn't leave me."
"But you did leave me," he whispers it, the pain coming back as the memory sweeps through.
"Not completely. I've always been here," Bones says before pausing to touch Jim's head. "And here." Bones lays his palm on Jim's chest, the warmth seeping into his frail body. "And you've been here." Bones puts Jim's palm over Bones's heart. "Always."
"Bones."
"Not long now, Jim."
"What's it like?" Jim reaches out and, this time, finally, he feels Bones entwine their fingers together, giving his hand a quick squeeze. He's not afraid of what's to come but he wants to know what to expect, just in case it doesn't turn out the way that he's expecting. Bones stands up and then sits down on the bed, mattress dipping under his weight and making Jim roll towards him slightly. Bones's kiss across his forehead feels like a sigh of air, a breath of promise of great things to come.
"Buckle up, Jim," Bones says with a grin.
As always, I'd love to hear what you thought.