i'm a sunshine machine / star trek xi / kirk/mccoy / r
title: i'm a sunshine machine
fandom: Star Trek XI
pairing: Kirk/McCoy
rating: R
disclaimer: Boldly going where many others have gone before me; I don't own any of this.
summary: In which there is accidental sexswap and then accidental empathy, and Jim just won't let it go.
notes: I don't fucking know. Either way, tears_of_nienna wins the universe for cheerleading me through pretty much the entire thing. ~2450 words.
Leonard's first thought --
Well, okay, not quite his first thought. His first thought is actually who is this beautiful half-naked woman, and why is she lounging in my bed? His second thought through seventh involved noticing and categorizing the scars he could see on her gorgeous skin, his eighth thought was one of recognition, and -- all right, it was his ninth thought. His ninth thought when he walks into his quarters and discovers Jim Kirk, in a woman's body, wearing a bra and panties and lounging in his bed, is I am way too sober for this.
Unfortunately, it somehow bypasses his brain and comes straight out of his mouth. Jim's new female mouth makes a sad little moue, and he says "Oh, honey, but I made myself so pretty for you," except in this woman's voice that's way more sexy than he can deal with now.
"No, seriously," Leonard says, going for the glasses. "I have no idea what you have planned, but if you want me involved I need at least half a bottle of something really fucking strong inside me first."
Jim pulls himself up off the bed in this ridiculous liquid motion and places himself firmly between Leonard and the alcohol, shaking his head. And now he's, what. Smirking? What the hell. "No way in hell. You're fucking me good and hard, Bones, no whiskey dick for you tonight."
Um.
"I'm sorry, I've had a very long day and I think I just became delusional. Repeat that?"
"You heard me," Jim says, and that is definitely a smirk. Oh, Leonard is way too sober for this. "I heard you diagnosing the rest of the crew who got hit with this bullshit earlier today while I was stealing some clothes from Uhura. This is going to wear off by tomorrow night, no way am I letting this gorgeous body go to waste."
"That was really not the message you should have taken away from that," Leonard says, and wonders if he should mention the other problem the rest of the crew had.
Then Jim moves a few steps forward. Leonard moves a few steps back, and decides it's probably in his best interest to keep that information to himself. "Really, Bones?" Jim says. "Because, you know, there's only so much a man can do with his body. There's parts that women have that we just can't ever comprehend, and gosh, I would really like a chance to."
"Go find someone else, then, for Christ's sake. Chekov, I bet Chekov would treat you real well." Leonard keeps moving backward, but Jim just keeps advancing, and pretty soon he's stuck between Jim and a wall, which is a shitty place to be on a good day.
"Oh, please. The kid's sweet, but he wouldn't know what to do with me if I gave him an instruction manual."
That's actually probably true. "Sulu? Scotty? ... Spock?"
"No, no, and remind me to punch you for that later." Jim takes another step forward, pops his eyebrows up once or twice. "Come on, Bones, you can't tell me you haven't already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent ..."
"Whether or not -- wait." Leonard blinks, squints at Jim. "Did you just mangle Andrew Lloyd Webber at me?"
"Yeah, wasn't it sexy?" Jim grins.
It was, but he's ignoring it. Just like he's ignoring the fact that Jim's brand-new breasts are about three inches away from his chest. Mostly. "It was disturbing, you fuckstick, and also, no."
"You'd be the fuckstick in this scenario, actually, unless someone stole your cock and you're just really calm about it," Jim says, back to smirking, and oh good he's going to get away with it. "Also, you're a lying ass, I'm the only one on this ship who gets to change his story that quickly."
Fuck. "Pardon?"
"Is it the tits that are making you stupid, or are you really losing whatever filter you used to have between your brain and your mouth? Because, I mean, these things are pretty awesome." Jim stops looking at Leonard, looks down at his own chest instead. Pokes the side of one of them, apparently simply to watch it jiggle. "Now, I know that if someone were to approach me dressed like this, talking like this, we'd both already be naked, so --"
"That's a shitty argument, even for you, Jim."
"-- I'm just going to have to assume that you have what we in the industry refer to as latent feelings --"
"What industry?"
"-- so I promise you, right now, after the night's over and you've made me come about a thousand times and you've let me suck you off once or twice and had two or three orgasms yourself we can pretend it never happened."
"Maybe the reason you're suddenly such a terrible friend is the fact that you've suddenly forgotten how numbers work."
"Fuck you, this is what friends do for each other when they're in a tight spot. Or, well, when one friend wants the other friend to be in their tight spot but the second friend refuses because he's an asshole."
"No, Jim, this is what friends don't do," Leonard says, and finally manages to escape, sliding away and making for the door. Screw liquor, he just needs to be somewhere else.
He only makes it two steps or so before Jim spins him around, though, and it looks like he might be frowning. "Fine. We're not friends, then, we've never met. Hey, stranger," he says, voice suddenly pitched low and sultry, "come here often?"
"Damn it, Jim, I'm your doctor, not your fucktoy."
"Ooh," Jim says, practically purring, and closes the distance between their bodies, putting his hands around Leonard's neck. "Sexy stranger is a doctor and psychic. You've got me sold, Doc."
And then Jim's eyes drop shut, and if Leonard hadn't automatically put his hands on Jim's hips he'd be on the ground. "Finally," he mutters to himself, and starts carrying Jim off to sickbay.
"Nurse Chapel to Dr. McCoy, are you there? The captain just woke up and told me I need to just eat a fucking sandwich already; I think you should probably get down here."
"Christ, Jim," Leonard says when he figures out what's gone wrong. "I don't know how you managed to make it through puberty, you're allergic to everything under every sun in the entire universe."
"What, seriously? This is an allergy?" Jim squints at him, hands rubbing the back of his neck in what's probably an unconscious movement. "I'm getting waves of what-the-fuck-ever from every person in a ten-foot radius of me because I'm allergic to something?"
"Yeah, pretty much." Leonard shrugs, thanks whatever might or might not be watching over him that he's so used to keeping calm when he's in doctor-mode. "It'll wear off in less than a day, since you're not being exposed to the allergen anymore. You're already getting a headache, so just go sit in your quarters or something and stay away from people."
Jim makes a face, says "I am not" before thinking for a second and sighing. "Okay, maybe I am. You're probably right, Bones." And he gets up and leaves.
Which is somewhat surprising, truth be told.
"You know, this is the second time in two days I've walked into my quarters and found you relaxing in my bed." Leonard very carefully goes back into doctor-mode as he advances into the room, raising an eyebrow when Jim stays put. "Is there something wrong with yours?"
"No." Jim shrugs. "You were really calm in sick bay, I thought it might help."
"... is it?"
"Eh." He shrugs again, rolls over so he's facing Leonard. "I felt better about an hour ago. I just like your bed."
Leonard rolls his eyes as he settles into a chair. There's no real reason he should be staying away from the bed, he knows, it's not like the distance really matters at this point, but the placebo effect is a time-honored medical institution, so his higher brain functions can fuck the hell off. "My bed is exactly the same as yours, Jim, I just wash the sheets more than once a month."
"How do you know that's not what I meant?" Jim grins, sitting all the way up. "Also, what the hell, I was expecting Bones, not Dr. McCoy."
Yeah, that makes sense. "What?"
"I'm getting lots of concerned whatevers from you, like I'm a patient or something."
"You still are, Jim."
Now it's his turn to roll his eyes, apparently. "Not in here I'm not, Bones. Besides, I could feel something else for a second before you went worried on me, like you remembered I can pick up waves all of a sudden. What was that?"
"Nothing you need to worry about." Time to change the subject. "Since when do you listen to show tunes from the twentieth century, by the way? I didn't even know you knew who Webber was."
"Holy shit, it's like you're twelve or something. One of the girls at the Academy liked him, for the record, and you didn't answer my question." Jim swings his legs around, stands. "Yeah, yeah, you said words, but that was the shittiest answer possible. But you know what, I think I already know."
Leonard scoffs. "Oh, please. Enlighten me."
"Well." Now Jim's walking over to where Leonard's sitting, but slowly, like he's proud of himself or something ridiculous like that. "I'm pretty sure it has to do with the fact that you all but told me you'd thought about us fucking before."
"So your allergy-ridden mind has also conjured up false memories. That's a bad sign, Jim, you shouldn't look nearly as happy as you do, given that you're obviously going crazy."
"Yeah, right." Jim's getting closer right now, and Leonard finally recognizes the expression on his face: it's the look he's seen in countless bars, sitting on a stool and watching Jim corner some pretty young thing he knows is a sure bet. "You know, I'm actually surprised it took me so long to notice. It's really fucking obvious," he says, and for a second Leonard is honestly worried Jim's going to sit in his lap. "You want me."
He laughs, although he thinks it might have been a second too late. "I'm a doctor, not some hormone-driven teenager. Those days are long behind me, Jim. All I want now is a drink and some sleep."
"And I know I was sexy when I was a woman," Jim goes on, ignoring him completely. "And I'm damn sure I'm sexy as a man. So the problem, really, is that you never got to finish that whether or not sentence before your train of thought derailed. I really think you should, though. Right now."
Leonard leans back in his chair a little farther so he can look Jim in the eye. "Seriously?"
He's guessing Jim's going to refuse to talk until he spills. What the fuck. "Whether or not I have thought about it, there are about a quadrillion things wrong with a captain and his chief medical officer getting physically involved. Not least of which is that, at the inevitable end, it would mean that the leftover bad feeling would make real cooperation basically impossible."
"Well," Jim says, moving his head around like he thinks he's conceding a point, "that does make sense. I will grant you that. But tell me this, Bones: if the relationship were purely physical, why would there be any bad feeling?"
Now that he's stopped moving, the look is back, and Leonard honestly doesn't know how much more of it he can take. "Damn it, Jim. Why are you pushing this?"
He smirks. "Why should I deny anyone the amazing experience that is Jim Kirk? I mean, really," he says, putting his hands on the arms of the chair so he can lean down, "you'd have the time of your life. Admit it, Bones. You want me."
Smug son of a bitch. Leonard scowls. "Yeah, because you weren't practically begging me to let you blow me. Sure."
Something flickers in Jim's eyes, for the briefest of seconds, and he'd only meant it as a joke, but suddenly it feels like Leonard's had an epiphany.
"Wait, is that what this is all about?" He straightens up a little, so he's not hunched down anymore. "Really?"
Jim draws back a little, smug expression dimming a little, and it looks like he's about to say something before thinking better of it. Then: "Whatever conclusion you've suddenly come to, I can pretty much guarantee it's the wrong one, so don't even try."
"I think you're wrong, Jim." Leonard straightens up in the chair, lessening the gap between their faces. "You really could have had anyone on this ship. You could have even had something made out of plastic and forgone the whole thing entirely. And yet, here you were, laying in my bed in a bra and panties, trying to seduce me like you had something to prove." He leans up a little more, and now there's no more than an inch or two between them. "Explain that to me, Jim. I'd love to hear it."
Silence. Jim's staring back at him, and he can feel Jim's breath on his lips.
Before he realizes it, he's reaching up to put a hand on Jim's neck, thumb on the pulse.
A second later, Jim surges forward, and yeah, kissing Jim Kirk really is all it's cracked up to be.
Later, as they're lying in the dark and trying to avoid the wet spot, a niggling thought manages its way to the forefront of Leonard's mind. "How's your waves, or whatever you've decided to call them, by the way?"
"Oh, yeah, about that." He can practically hear Jim grinning. "That went away an hour or two before you showed up."
"... what?"
"Yeah, I could feel my headache starting to go away, and then a little while later I realized I felt normal again. So I went out into the corridor, and after three people passed by and I had no idea what was going on in their heads I figured I was fixed."
Jesus. "So that -- that entire thing was a bluff?"
Now he's actually laughing, the bastard. "Yeah, pretty much. It worked though, didn't it?"
Leonard rolls his eyes, more for his own benefit than anything else, and sighs. "Why do I put up with you?"
"No idea." He hears rustling, the bed jostles a little, and suddenly Jim's pressed along his side, arm thrown over his stomach. It's nice, he certainly won't deny that -- more than nice, if he's being completely honest -- but it probably says something that that's the strangest part of his evening so far.
"Never would have figured Jim Kirk for a snuggler," he says, wrapping his arms around Jim anyway.
"Shut up, Bones," Jim says, mumbling into his chest. "Go to sleep."
So he does.
fandom: Star Trek XI
pairing: Kirk/McCoy
rating: R
disclaimer: Boldly going where many others have gone before me; I don't own any of this.
summary: In which there is accidental sexswap and then accidental empathy, and Jim just won't let it go.
notes: I don't fucking know. Either way, tears_of_nienna wins the universe for cheerleading me through pretty much the entire thing. ~2450 words.
Leonard's first thought --
Well, okay, not quite his first thought. His first thought is actually who is this beautiful half-naked woman, and why is she lounging in my bed? His second thought through seventh involved noticing and categorizing the scars he could see on her gorgeous skin, his eighth thought was one of recognition, and -- all right, it was his ninth thought. His ninth thought when he walks into his quarters and discovers Jim Kirk, in a woman's body, wearing a bra and panties and lounging in his bed, is I am way too sober for this.
Unfortunately, it somehow bypasses his brain and comes straight out of his mouth. Jim's new female mouth makes a sad little moue, and he says "Oh, honey, but I made myself so pretty for you," except in this woman's voice that's way more sexy than he can deal with now.
"No, seriously," Leonard says, going for the glasses. "I have no idea what you have planned, but if you want me involved I need at least half a bottle of something really fucking strong inside me first."
Jim pulls himself up off the bed in this ridiculous liquid motion and places himself firmly between Leonard and the alcohol, shaking his head. And now he's, what. Smirking? What the hell. "No way in hell. You're fucking me good and hard, Bones, no whiskey dick for you tonight."
Um.
"I'm sorry, I've had a very long day and I think I just became delusional. Repeat that?"
"You heard me," Jim says, and that is definitely a smirk. Oh, Leonard is way too sober for this. "I heard you diagnosing the rest of the crew who got hit with this bullshit earlier today while I was stealing some clothes from Uhura. This is going to wear off by tomorrow night, no way am I letting this gorgeous body go to waste."
"That was really not the message you should have taken away from that," Leonard says, and wonders if he should mention the other problem the rest of the crew had.
Then Jim moves a few steps forward. Leonard moves a few steps back, and decides it's probably in his best interest to keep that information to himself. "Really, Bones?" Jim says. "Because, you know, there's only so much a man can do with his body. There's parts that women have that we just can't ever comprehend, and gosh, I would really like a chance to."
"Go find someone else, then, for Christ's sake. Chekov, I bet Chekov would treat you real well." Leonard keeps moving backward, but Jim just keeps advancing, and pretty soon he's stuck between Jim and a wall, which is a shitty place to be on a good day.
"Oh, please. The kid's sweet, but he wouldn't know what to do with me if I gave him an instruction manual."
That's actually probably true. "Sulu? Scotty? ... Spock?"
"No, no, and remind me to punch you for that later." Jim takes another step forward, pops his eyebrows up once or twice. "Come on, Bones, you can't tell me you haven't already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent ..."
"Whether or not -- wait." Leonard blinks, squints at Jim. "Did you just mangle Andrew Lloyd Webber at me?"
"Yeah, wasn't it sexy?" Jim grins.
It was, but he's ignoring it. Just like he's ignoring the fact that Jim's brand-new breasts are about three inches away from his chest. Mostly. "It was disturbing, you fuckstick, and also, no."
"You'd be the fuckstick in this scenario, actually, unless someone stole your cock and you're just really calm about it," Jim says, back to smirking, and oh good he's going to get away with it. "Also, you're a lying ass, I'm the only one on this ship who gets to change his story that quickly."
Fuck. "Pardon?"
"Is it the tits that are making you stupid, or are you really losing whatever filter you used to have between your brain and your mouth? Because, I mean, these things are pretty awesome." Jim stops looking at Leonard, looks down at his own chest instead. Pokes the side of one of them, apparently simply to watch it jiggle. "Now, I know that if someone were to approach me dressed like this, talking like this, we'd both already be naked, so --"
"That's a shitty argument, even for you, Jim."
"-- I'm just going to have to assume that you have what we in the industry refer to as latent feelings --"
"What industry?"
"-- so I promise you, right now, after the night's over and you've made me come about a thousand times and you've let me suck you off once or twice and had two or three orgasms yourself we can pretend it never happened."
"Maybe the reason you're suddenly such a terrible friend is the fact that you've suddenly forgotten how numbers work."
"Fuck you, this is what friends do for each other when they're in a tight spot. Or, well, when one friend wants the other friend to be in their tight spot but the second friend refuses because he's an asshole."
"No, Jim, this is what friends don't do," Leonard says, and finally manages to escape, sliding away and making for the door. Screw liquor, he just needs to be somewhere else.
He only makes it two steps or so before Jim spins him around, though, and it looks like he might be frowning. "Fine. We're not friends, then, we've never met. Hey, stranger," he says, voice suddenly pitched low and sultry, "come here often?"
"Damn it, Jim, I'm your doctor, not your fucktoy."
"Ooh," Jim says, practically purring, and closes the distance between their bodies, putting his hands around Leonard's neck. "Sexy stranger is a doctor and psychic. You've got me sold, Doc."
And then Jim's eyes drop shut, and if Leonard hadn't automatically put his hands on Jim's hips he'd be on the ground. "Finally," he mutters to himself, and starts carrying Jim off to sickbay.
"Nurse Chapel to Dr. McCoy, are you there? The captain just woke up and told me I need to just eat a fucking sandwich already; I think you should probably get down here."
"Christ, Jim," Leonard says when he figures out what's gone wrong. "I don't know how you managed to make it through puberty, you're allergic to everything under every sun in the entire universe."
"What, seriously? This is an allergy?" Jim squints at him, hands rubbing the back of his neck in what's probably an unconscious movement. "I'm getting waves of what-the-fuck-ever from every person in a ten-foot radius of me because I'm allergic to something?"
"Yeah, pretty much." Leonard shrugs, thanks whatever might or might not be watching over him that he's so used to keeping calm when he's in doctor-mode. "It'll wear off in less than a day, since you're not being exposed to the allergen anymore. You're already getting a headache, so just go sit in your quarters or something and stay away from people."
Jim makes a face, says "I am not" before thinking for a second and sighing. "Okay, maybe I am. You're probably right, Bones." And he gets up and leaves.
Which is somewhat surprising, truth be told.
"You know, this is the second time in two days I've walked into my quarters and found you relaxing in my bed." Leonard very carefully goes back into doctor-mode as he advances into the room, raising an eyebrow when Jim stays put. "Is there something wrong with yours?"
"No." Jim shrugs. "You were really calm in sick bay, I thought it might help."
"... is it?"
"Eh." He shrugs again, rolls over so he's facing Leonard. "I felt better about an hour ago. I just like your bed."
Leonard rolls his eyes as he settles into a chair. There's no real reason he should be staying away from the bed, he knows, it's not like the distance really matters at this point, but the placebo effect is a time-honored medical institution, so his higher brain functions can fuck the hell off. "My bed is exactly the same as yours, Jim, I just wash the sheets more than once a month."
"How do you know that's not what I meant?" Jim grins, sitting all the way up. "Also, what the hell, I was expecting Bones, not Dr. McCoy."
Yeah, that makes sense. "What?"
"I'm getting lots of concerned whatevers from you, like I'm a patient or something."
"You still are, Jim."
Now it's his turn to roll his eyes, apparently. "Not in here I'm not, Bones. Besides, I could feel something else for a second before you went worried on me, like you remembered I can pick up waves all of a sudden. What was that?"
"Nothing you need to worry about." Time to change the subject. "Since when do you listen to show tunes from the twentieth century, by the way? I didn't even know you knew who Webber was."
"Holy shit, it's like you're twelve or something. One of the girls at the Academy liked him, for the record, and you didn't answer my question." Jim swings his legs around, stands. "Yeah, yeah, you said words, but that was the shittiest answer possible. But you know what, I think I already know."
Leonard scoffs. "Oh, please. Enlighten me."
"Well." Now Jim's walking over to where Leonard's sitting, but slowly, like he's proud of himself or something ridiculous like that. "I'm pretty sure it has to do with the fact that you all but told me you'd thought about us fucking before."
"So your allergy-ridden mind has also conjured up false memories. That's a bad sign, Jim, you shouldn't look nearly as happy as you do, given that you're obviously going crazy."
"Yeah, right." Jim's getting closer right now, and Leonard finally recognizes the expression on his face: it's the look he's seen in countless bars, sitting on a stool and watching Jim corner some pretty young thing he knows is a sure bet. "You know, I'm actually surprised it took me so long to notice. It's really fucking obvious," he says, and for a second Leonard is honestly worried Jim's going to sit in his lap. "You want me."
He laughs, although he thinks it might have been a second too late. "I'm a doctor, not some hormone-driven teenager. Those days are long behind me, Jim. All I want now is a drink and some sleep."
"And I know I was sexy when I was a woman," Jim goes on, ignoring him completely. "And I'm damn sure I'm sexy as a man. So the problem, really, is that you never got to finish that whether or not sentence before your train of thought derailed. I really think you should, though. Right now."
Leonard leans back in his chair a little farther so he can look Jim in the eye. "Seriously?"
He's guessing Jim's going to refuse to talk until he spills. What the fuck. "Whether or not I have thought about it, there are about a quadrillion things wrong with a captain and his chief medical officer getting physically involved. Not least of which is that, at the inevitable end, it would mean that the leftover bad feeling would make real cooperation basically impossible."
"Well," Jim says, moving his head around like he thinks he's conceding a point, "that does make sense. I will grant you that. But tell me this, Bones: if the relationship were purely physical, why would there be any bad feeling?"
Now that he's stopped moving, the look is back, and Leonard honestly doesn't know how much more of it he can take. "Damn it, Jim. Why are you pushing this?"
He smirks. "Why should I deny anyone the amazing experience that is Jim Kirk? I mean, really," he says, putting his hands on the arms of the chair so he can lean down, "you'd have the time of your life. Admit it, Bones. You want me."
Smug son of a bitch. Leonard scowls. "Yeah, because you weren't practically begging me to let you blow me. Sure."
Something flickers in Jim's eyes, for the briefest of seconds, and he'd only meant it as a joke, but suddenly it feels like Leonard's had an epiphany.
"Wait, is that what this is all about?" He straightens up a little, so he's not hunched down anymore. "Really?"
Jim draws back a little, smug expression dimming a little, and it looks like he's about to say something before thinking better of it. Then: "Whatever conclusion you've suddenly come to, I can pretty much guarantee it's the wrong one, so don't even try."
"I think you're wrong, Jim." Leonard straightens up in the chair, lessening the gap between their faces. "You really could have had anyone on this ship. You could have even had something made out of plastic and forgone the whole thing entirely. And yet, here you were, laying in my bed in a bra and panties, trying to seduce me like you had something to prove." He leans up a little more, and now there's no more than an inch or two between them. "Explain that to me, Jim. I'd love to hear it."
Silence. Jim's staring back at him, and he can feel Jim's breath on his lips.
Before he realizes it, he's reaching up to put a hand on Jim's neck, thumb on the pulse.
A second later, Jim surges forward, and yeah, kissing Jim Kirk really is all it's cracked up to be.
Later, as they're lying in the dark and trying to avoid the wet spot, a niggling thought manages its way to the forefront of Leonard's mind. "How's your waves, or whatever you've decided to call them, by the way?"
"Oh, yeah, about that." He can practically hear Jim grinning. "That went away an hour or two before you showed up."
"... what?"
"Yeah, I could feel my headache starting to go away, and then a little while later I realized I felt normal again. So I went out into the corridor, and after three people passed by and I had no idea what was going on in their heads I figured I was fixed."
Jesus. "So that -- that entire thing was a bluff?"
Now he's actually laughing, the bastard. "Yeah, pretty much. It worked though, didn't it?"
Leonard rolls his eyes, more for his own benefit than anything else, and sighs. "Why do I put up with you?"
"No idea." He hears rustling, the bed jostles a little, and suddenly Jim's pressed along his side, arm thrown over his stomach. It's nice, he certainly won't deny that -- more than nice, if he's being completely honest -- but it probably says something that that's the strangest part of his evening so far.
"Never would have figured Jim Kirk for a snuggler," he says, wrapping his arms around Jim anyway.
"Shut up, Bones," Jim says, mumbling into his chest. "Go to sleep."
So he does.