First Contact (Star Trek XI Fanfic)
Title: First Contact
Author: therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,900
Description: For once, McCoy is the drunk one.
A/N: Just a little Academy first-time for you! This was one of the very first fics I ever started writing (way back in…September) and it’s been languishing incomplete on my hard drive ever since. I was suddenly inspired to finish it up and post! The fic stands alone, but can also be seen as background to Beyond Measure, specifically to one of the drabbles in Torn that mentions Jim and Bones’ first time.
Well, this was different.
This was Jim Kirk coaxing McCoy out of the bar, holding him tight against his side as they staggered out into the parking lot, grasping him by the chin and slapping him a few times until his eyes regained some focus.
This was Jim seeing McCoy's eyes focus on him, a little too intense, a little too close, before he looked away, and McCoy's head tipped forward and they were stumbling through the parking lot again.
Jim wasn't quite sure what he was pulling Bones away from. He hadn't been talkative at the bar, or hadn't been willing to talk between shots, at least. He'd mumbled something about a girl, but Jim was pretty sure this bender wasn't related to McCoy's mild flirtations. Maybe something medical, something going wrong in the medical center, maybe the doctor had made a mistake. That last thought sent a wave of fear and sadness through him, for McCoy’s sake, and he was surprised at the strength of the reaction.
He hailed a cab and pushed Bones in, shoving him over to make room, and climbed in beside him. Bones slumped toward Jim, who shifted a little, but didn't push him away. He leaned back and took a few deep breaths to clear his head - he’d had a few drinks himself, after all. McCoy was snoring, almost passed out, and the sound of their breathing filled the cab. When they arrived at the dorms, Jim wrestled him out of the cab, managing to keep him awake and on his feet as they entered the lobby and made their way toward McCoy's room on the ground floor.
On the way down the hall, McCoy jerked his head up, fully alert for a moment. He grunted, withdrew his arm from Kirk's shoulders and staggered a few steps down the hall before collapsing against a wall, his eyes squeezed shut once more.
"I don't know what you drank," Kirk muttered, "but it sure did a number on you. Must have forgotten the potential side effects five minutes after you listed them to me for every single alien drink at that goddamned bar."
He grabbed McCoy around the waist, then reached for his hand and pushed his finger up against the key pad. It beeped once in recognition, and the door slid open. They stumbled in, and Kirk dropped his friend onto the neatly made bed.
Jim looked around the room with the intention of getting McCoy a glass of water. That quickly turned into a brief survey of the room, then to yanking open a few drawers, just to see what Bones might be hiding. One drawer held a few hyposprays, and Jim briefly fantasized about sticking McCoy with one just to see how he liked it. He had decided against it and was about to close the drawer when he heard McCoy's voice growl from behind him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"You're drunk, Bones. I was just looking for an antidote so you don't feel like shit in the morning."
"I got your antidote right here," McCoy grumbled, weakly giving him the finger.
"Why so hostile, Bones?" Jim stood in front of him, smirking. "You're not mad that I'm the one dragging you home for once, are you?"
"Dragging you home..." McCoy mumbled, then he grabbed the front of Jim's shirt and yanked him onto the bed.
He was surprisingly forceful for someone who hadn't been able to hold himself upright ten minutes ago, Jim mused. He shifted on the bed and tried to figure out what exactly was going on here. McCoy had a death grip on the front of his shirt and was trying to catch his eyes with that same intense gaze from the parking lot. Jim was bemused until he looked his friend in the face and felt a heat rush through his body. Then, he panicked. He pushed himself roughly off of McCoy's chest with both hands, scrambled off the bed and stood awkardly, looking anywhere but at Bones. Which is why he didn't see McCoy push himself into a standing position and launch himself toward Jim. In retrospect, Jim's reaction was predictable, but that didn't make up for the horror he felt when he pulled his hand back and punched his friend in the jaw.
McCoy's balance had been somewhat precarious to begin with, so the slug sent him reeling back onto the bed. Jim moved forward to make sure he hadn't done any permanent damage, and McCoy took the opportunity to knee him in the stomach.
Jim doubled over, struggling for breath. "God, fucking....ow!" McCoy had a manic glare in his eye as he struggled to sit up. Reaching out for balance, he grabbed a handful of Jim’s hair and yanked. “AHHHHHHHHHGGGG!” Jim gritted his teeth in pain and threw himself full force at Bones, knocking him backwards on the mattress. He leaned over Bones on all fours, and grabbed a handful of his hair. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Seriously!”
Jim felt Bones’ hand curl around the back of his neck and struggled to pull out of his grasp. There was no way anyone this drunk should be this strong, he thought, just before his arms gave way and he tumbled forward.
He barely felt the rough kiss that landed on his cheek. He lay still for a moment, panting softly, wondering if he was imagining things, sure he was imagining things, and then he turned his face slowly toward Bones. This time, he felt the press of a kiss against the corner of his mouth. His heart was pounding and he felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him again. His lips were at Bones’ cheek, and without ever consciously deciding what he was about to do, he planted a soft kiss on the rough stubble there. He could feel his pants getting tighter, and was suddenly aware that he was lying almost entirely on top of Bones, a knee between his legs, and the heat of their bodies suddenly seemed to burn.
Bones had loosened his grip on Jim’s neck and was lightly stroking the back of his head. Jim pushed himself up onto his elbows so he could get a better look at McCoy’s face. Where there had been a manic light and a frightening intensity in his gaze before, there was now a soft pleading, along with something deeper - desire rising to the surface, that Jim knew was reflecting back from his own eyes.
Then their lips were together, rough, chaste kisses, and Jim was moving above Bones, grinding against him. As if he wasn’t overwhelmed enough, Bones pressed up toward him and opened his lips, an invitation that Jim resisted for only a second before he responded, and their tongues reached tentatively for each other. Those first kisses were like nothing Jim had ever experienced, rough and real, and a thrill surged through him as he thought to himself, “This is Bones”. Bones’ tongue tangling with his, Bones’ arms wrapped around his back, Bones’ leg pressing hard against his groin. Oh God, he wished he didn’t have to breathe, but he did, and he broke the kiss, gasping into McCoy’s neck.
Bones slid his hand between their bodies, working at the front of Jim’s pants to free his throbbing cock. Jim had a moment of shock when he realized they were still fully clothed. He was dizzy and damp with sweat and would have sworn that he’d been pressed up against Bones’ bare skin. He tried to remember how they’d gotten here, to this moment, to Bones wrapping a hand around him as Jim ran his tongue along salty skin. “Bones, are you even sober?” he panted, as he pumped into the warm fist encircling his length.
Bones growled his name and stroked him harder. Jim took that as a yes, and moaned through a haze of pleasure as he fumbled with Bones’ fly, eager to touch, to know what Bones felt like in his hand. He got the zipper down, tugged jeans and boxers over the doctor’s lean hips, and then Bones moved his hand away to thrust up, skin meeting skin. Jim’s slick length slid against Bones’ hot, swollen cock, and he whimpered. Desperate for friction, Jim reached down to grip them both, stroking hard, feeling Bones rutting beneath him. He was so close to the edge, clenching his teeth in anticipation, when Bones gave a strangled yell and came, spurting over their stomachs and chests. Jim felt the hot liquid slick on his hand, then he was coming too, a messy, ragged climax that had him collapsing under its weight.
Jim lay half on top of Bones and wondered what they were doing. Were they talking? Not talking? Staying? Leaving? Regretting, celebrating, ignoring? Jim’s attempt at analysis was interrupted by a loud snore. Apparently they were passing out. That was fine by Jim, and he didn’t even bother to move off of Bones before he closed his eyes and faded into a dreamless sleep.
***
“Do you, uh…do you remember what happened last night?” Jim asked, breaking the silence. They’d both been awake for a little while, though neither had moved or spoken, clinging to the safety of feigned unconsciousness.
Bones glanced down the length of the bed, where Jim was still pressed against him, wearing only his boxers. He felt a telltale stickiness on his stomach and a pounding in his head. He looked at Jim again, at his earnest blue eyes and his tousled hair and his swollen lips and really, really wished he could remember. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and when he opened them Jim was looking at him, his expression wary. Bones lifted a hand to Jim’s cheek, ran his thumb over smooth skin. Yeah, that felt right.
“Did you take advantage of me?” His voice was raw, but his tone was tender.
Jim frowned. “I did ask if you were sober. You were very convincing.”
“What did I say?”
“If I recall correctly, you said…uh… ‘Jim’.”
Bones chuckled. “Oh yeah. Very convincing.”
“You have no idea. Your voice is pure sex, you know that? And anyway, you started the, uh…the taking advantage.”
“I started it?! I’ll be damned.” Bones ran a hand over his face and grimaced as he touched his tender jaw.
“Also, I may have punched you.”
“You PUNCHED me?!” Bones lifted his head up, managing to keep a questioning eyebrow raised despite the throbbing pain in his head.
“It was self-defense!”
“Oh yeah, self-defense, what were you afraid I was going to do, kiss you to death?”
“The punch came before the kiss.”
“Really? Wait. You punched me, and then I kissed you?”
“Basically, yeah.”
“Doesn’t quite seem fair.”
“Well, you did knee me in the stomach.”
“Ah.”
“And pulled my hair.”
Bones winced. “Sorry.”
“S’okay. You really don’t remember last night?”
Bones shook his head. “How was it?”
“Kind of awesome, actually.”
“Damn.”
“So, uh…wanna go drinking tonight?” Jim asked with a small smile.
“You don’t need to get me drunk, Jim. I’d been meaning to do that for a while.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
“Too bad you’ll never remember it then,” Jim said with a shrug.
Bones slid his hand to the back of Jim’s head, pulled him down for a soft kiss, and whispered in his ear.
“Remind me.”
Author: therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,900
Description: For once, McCoy is the drunk one.
A/N: Just a little Academy first-time for you! This was one of the very first fics I ever started writing (way back in…September) and it’s been languishing incomplete on my hard drive ever since. I was suddenly inspired to finish it up and post! The fic stands alone, but can also be seen as background to Beyond Measure, specifically to one of the drabbles in Torn that mentions Jim and Bones’ first time.
Well, this was different.
This was Jim Kirk coaxing McCoy out of the bar, holding him tight against his side as they staggered out into the parking lot, grasping him by the chin and slapping him a few times until his eyes regained some focus.
This was Jim seeing McCoy's eyes focus on him, a little too intense, a little too close, before he looked away, and McCoy's head tipped forward and they were stumbling through the parking lot again.
Jim wasn't quite sure what he was pulling Bones away from. He hadn't been talkative at the bar, or hadn't been willing to talk between shots, at least. He'd mumbled something about a girl, but Jim was pretty sure this bender wasn't related to McCoy's mild flirtations. Maybe something medical, something going wrong in the medical center, maybe the doctor had made a mistake. That last thought sent a wave of fear and sadness through him, for McCoy’s sake, and he was surprised at the strength of the reaction.
He hailed a cab and pushed Bones in, shoving him over to make room, and climbed in beside him. Bones slumped toward Jim, who shifted a little, but didn't push him away. He leaned back and took a few deep breaths to clear his head - he’d had a few drinks himself, after all. McCoy was snoring, almost passed out, and the sound of their breathing filled the cab. When they arrived at the dorms, Jim wrestled him out of the cab, managing to keep him awake and on his feet as they entered the lobby and made their way toward McCoy's room on the ground floor.
On the way down the hall, McCoy jerked his head up, fully alert for a moment. He grunted, withdrew his arm from Kirk's shoulders and staggered a few steps down the hall before collapsing against a wall, his eyes squeezed shut once more.
"I don't know what you drank," Kirk muttered, "but it sure did a number on you. Must have forgotten the potential side effects five minutes after you listed them to me for every single alien drink at that goddamned bar."
He grabbed McCoy around the waist, then reached for his hand and pushed his finger up against the key pad. It beeped once in recognition, and the door slid open. They stumbled in, and Kirk dropped his friend onto the neatly made bed.
Jim looked around the room with the intention of getting McCoy a glass of water. That quickly turned into a brief survey of the room, then to yanking open a few drawers, just to see what Bones might be hiding. One drawer held a few hyposprays, and Jim briefly fantasized about sticking McCoy with one just to see how he liked it. He had decided against it and was about to close the drawer when he heard McCoy's voice growl from behind him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"You're drunk, Bones. I was just looking for an antidote so you don't feel like shit in the morning."
"I got your antidote right here," McCoy grumbled, weakly giving him the finger.
"Why so hostile, Bones?" Jim stood in front of him, smirking. "You're not mad that I'm the one dragging you home for once, are you?"
"Dragging you home..." McCoy mumbled, then he grabbed the front of Jim's shirt and yanked him onto the bed.
He was surprisingly forceful for someone who hadn't been able to hold himself upright ten minutes ago, Jim mused. He shifted on the bed and tried to figure out what exactly was going on here. McCoy had a death grip on the front of his shirt and was trying to catch his eyes with that same intense gaze from the parking lot. Jim was bemused until he looked his friend in the face and felt a heat rush through his body. Then, he panicked. He pushed himself roughly off of McCoy's chest with both hands, scrambled off the bed and stood awkardly, looking anywhere but at Bones. Which is why he didn't see McCoy push himself into a standing position and launch himself toward Jim. In retrospect, Jim's reaction was predictable, but that didn't make up for the horror he felt when he pulled his hand back and punched his friend in the jaw.
McCoy's balance had been somewhat precarious to begin with, so the slug sent him reeling back onto the bed. Jim moved forward to make sure he hadn't done any permanent damage, and McCoy took the opportunity to knee him in the stomach.
Jim doubled over, struggling for breath. "God, fucking....ow!" McCoy had a manic glare in his eye as he struggled to sit up. Reaching out for balance, he grabbed a handful of Jim’s hair and yanked. “AHHHHHHHHHGGGG!” Jim gritted his teeth in pain and threw himself full force at Bones, knocking him backwards on the mattress. He leaned over Bones on all fours, and grabbed a handful of his hair. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Seriously!”
Jim felt Bones’ hand curl around the back of his neck and struggled to pull out of his grasp. There was no way anyone this drunk should be this strong, he thought, just before his arms gave way and he tumbled forward.
He barely felt the rough kiss that landed on his cheek. He lay still for a moment, panting softly, wondering if he was imagining things, sure he was imagining things, and then he turned his face slowly toward Bones. This time, he felt the press of a kiss against the corner of his mouth. His heart was pounding and he felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him again. His lips were at Bones’ cheek, and without ever consciously deciding what he was about to do, he planted a soft kiss on the rough stubble there. He could feel his pants getting tighter, and was suddenly aware that he was lying almost entirely on top of Bones, a knee between his legs, and the heat of their bodies suddenly seemed to burn.
Bones had loosened his grip on Jim’s neck and was lightly stroking the back of his head. Jim pushed himself up onto his elbows so he could get a better look at McCoy’s face. Where there had been a manic light and a frightening intensity in his gaze before, there was now a soft pleading, along with something deeper - desire rising to the surface, that Jim knew was reflecting back from his own eyes.
Then their lips were together, rough, chaste kisses, and Jim was moving above Bones, grinding against him. As if he wasn’t overwhelmed enough, Bones pressed up toward him and opened his lips, an invitation that Jim resisted for only a second before he responded, and their tongues reached tentatively for each other. Those first kisses were like nothing Jim had ever experienced, rough and real, and a thrill surged through him as he thought to himself, “This is Bones”. Bones’ tongue tangling with his, Bones’ arms wrapped around his back, Bones’ leg pressing hard against his groin. Oh God, he wished he didn’t have to breathe, but he did, and he broke the kiss, gasping into McCoy’s neck.
Bones slid his hand between their bodies, working at the front of Jim’s pants to free his throbbing cock. Jim had a moment of shock when he realized they were still fully clothed. He was dizzy and damp with sweat and would have sworn that he’d been pressed up against Bones’ bare skin. He tried to remember how they’d gotten here, to this moment, to Bones wrapping a hand around him as Jim ran his tongue along salty skin. “Bones, are you even sober?” he panted, as he pumped into the warm fist encircling his length.
Bones growled his name and stroked him harder. Jim took that as a yes, and moaned through a haze of pleasure as he fumbled with Bones’ fly, eager to touch, to know what Bones felt like in his hand. He got the zipper down, tugged jeans and boxers over the doctor’s lean hips, and then Bones moved his hand away to thrust up, skin meeting skin. Jim’s slick length slid against Bones’ hot, swollen cock, and he whimpered. Desperate for friction, Jim reached down to grip them both, stroking hard, feeling Bones rutting beneath him. He was so close to the edge, clenching his teeth in anticipation, when Bones gave a strangled yell and came, spurting over their stomachs and chests. Jim felt the hot liquid slick on his hand, then he was coming too, a messy, ragged climax that had him collapsing under its weight.
Jim lay half on top of Bones and wondered what they were doing. Were they talking? Not talking? Staying? Leaving? Regretting, celebrating, ignoring? Jim’s attempt at analysis was interrupted by a loud snore. Apparently they were passing out. That was fine by Jim, and he didn’t even bother to move off of Bones before he closed his eyes and faded into a dreamless sleep.
***
“Do you, uh…do you remember what happened last night?” Jim asked, breaking the silence. They’d both been awake for a little while, though neither had moved or spoken, clinging to the safety of feigned unconsciousness.
Bones glanced down the length of the bed, where Jim was still pressed against him, wearing only his boxers. He felt a telltale stickiness on his stomach and a pounding in his head. He looked at Jim again, at his earnest blue eyes and his tousled hair and his swollen lips and really, really wished he could remember. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and when he opened them Jim was looking at him, his expression wary. Bones lifted a hand to Jim’s cheek, ran his thumb over smooth skin. Yeah, that felt right.
“Did you take advantage of me?” His voice was raw, but his tone was tender.
Jim frowned. “I did ask if you were sober. You were very convincing.”
“What did I say?”
“If I recall correctly, you said…uh… ‘Jim’.”
Bones chuckled. “Oh yeah. Very convincing.”
“You have no idea. Your voice is pure sex, you know that? And anyway, you started the, uh…the taking advantage.”
“I started it?! I’ll be damned.” Bones ran a hand over his face and grimaced as he touched his tender jaw.
“Also, I may have punched you.”
“You PUNCHED me?!” Bones lifted his head up, managing to keep a questioning eyebrow raised despite the throbbing pain in his head.
“It was self-defense!”
“Oh yeah, self-defense, what were you afraid I was going to do, kiss you to death?”
“The punch came before the kiss.”
“Really? Wait. You punched me, and then I kissed you?”
“Basically, yeah.”
“Doesn’t quite seem fair.”
“Well, you did knee me in the stomach.”
“Ah.”
“And pulled my hair.”
Bones winced. “Sorry.”
“S’okay. You really don’t remember last night?”
Bones shook his head. “How was it?”
“Kind of awesome, actually.”
“Damn.”
“So, uh…wanna go drinking tonight?” Jim asked with a small smile.
“You don’t need to get me drunk, Jim. I’d been meaning to do that for a while.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
“Too bad you’ll never remember it then,” Jim said with a shrug.
Bones slid his hand to the back of Jim’s head, pulled him down for a soft kiss, and whispered in his ear.
“Remind me.”