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sharpestscalpelIt had chaffed at first. Jocelyn had left him to rot, pissed as hell about the kid. He’d mulled over vivid revenge fantasies until, the first time he saw her afterwards, he’d had to clench his fists in his pockets so they wouldn’t reach out of their own accord and settle over her fine collarbones and reel her in for a taste old-fashioned McCoy justice like spit in her eye.
But in the end, he hadn’t blamed her. She was a conniver and he hadn’t ever been as willing a participant in her scheme as she’d have liked. Jocelyn had deserved a shot a making it on her own terms. She’d taken that chance.
She hadn’t done half-bad for herself, McCoy had to admit. But then, neither had he. Especially considering where Pike had found him. Every day spent in solitary – it had worn on him, made him tired and angry and hungry for hurting things in ways he’d never been on the outside.
Pike had come, waving a shiny new medical license and a Fleet uniform, an offer too good to pass up. CMO of the Fleet’s fancy new darling of a flagship or shitting his bed out of boredom inside four walls with no windows? At least in space he’d see the stars.
The stars and pretty little officers all dressed up like they were real shitting captains. Uhura strode over to his table, tiny body full of energy and violence in a way that made her extra appealing to look at, and took the other seat without asking.
“McCoy, what the hell?” Uhura hadn’t really counted on Kirk coming back. She surveyed the emaciated man – she’d teased him about his slim hips but this was ridiculous – sitting slightly behind the doctor, watching everything from those haunted blue eyes.
Uhura was the one chaffing now, all the power she’d thought she had coming with a ride-along, circumscribed from being absolute. She had the ship. But McCoy had his sickbay. And she’d eventually need it, need him. Pike had given McCoy more than he’d expected – but he’d still fucked them both because they were stuck with each other.
“You want to make this an official conversation, we can take it back to your office… Captain.” The pause was significant, not quite insulting but certainly not currying favor.
Her headshake was minimal but definite. Their dependence on one another wasn’t known – and she’d prefer to keep it that way. McCoy had never made a play for power that Uhura knew of but he’d have all of her enemies rallying behind him if the stalemate became common knowledge.
“Kirk.” Uhura acknowledged him at least. He had his rank, she’d checked the computer records. He’d need McCoy to clear him for duty before he could set foot on the bridge and even then Uhura wasn’t about to trust the blond man. But it wasn’t entirely unpleasant to see him alive, especially if being in the good doctor’s care mean McCoy had something invested in him. There was some sort of opportunity here, she just had to sniff it out.
But in the end, he hadn’t blamed her. She was a conniver and he hadn’t ever been as willing a participant in her scheme as she’d have liked. Jocelyn had deserved a shot a making it on her own terms. She’d taken that chance.
She hadn’t done half-bad for herself, McCoy had to admit. But then, neither had he. Especially considering where Pike had found him. Every day spent in solitary – it had worn on him, made him tired and angry and hungry for hurting things in ways he’d never been on the outside.
Pike had come, waving a shiny new medical license and a Fleet uniform, an offer too good to pass up. CMO of the Fleet’s fancy new darling of a flagship or shitting his bed out of boredom inside four walls with no windows? At least in space he’d see the stars.
The stars and pretty little officers all dressed up like they were real shitting captains. Uhura strode over to his table, tiny body full of energy and violence in a way that made her extra appealing to look at, and took the other seat without asking.
“McCoy, what the hell?” Uhura hadn’t really counted on Kirk coming back. She surveyed the emaciated man – she’d teased him about his slim hips but this was ridiculous – sitting slightly behind the doctor, watching everything from those haunted blue eyes.
Uhura was the one chaffing now, all the power she’d thought she had coming with a ride-along, circumscribed from being absolute. She had the ship. But McCoy had his sickbay. And she’d eventually need it, need him. Pike had given McCoy more than he’d expected – but he’d still fucked them both because they were stuck with each other.
“You want to make this an official conversation, we can take it back to your office… Captain.” The pause was significant, not quite insulting but certainly not currying favor.
Her headshake was minimal but definite. Their dependence on one another wasn’t known – and she’d prefer to keep it that way. McCoy had never made a play for power that Uhura knew of but he’d have all of her enemies rallying behind him if the stalemate became common knowledge.
“Kirk.” Uhura acknowledged him at least. He had his rank, she’d checked the computer records. He’d need McCoy to clear him for duty before he could set foot on the bridge and even then Uhura wasn’t about to trust the blond man. But it wasn’t entirely unpleasant to see him alive, especially if being in the good doctor’s care mean McCoy had something invested in him. There was some sort of opportunity here, she just had to sniff it out.
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Date: 2010-03-18 06:38 pm (UTC)He leaned back from her ear, his head coming to rest on the pillow on the other side of her, and looked at the ceiling for a moment.
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Date: 2010-03-18 06:49 pm (UTC)For his part, McCoy was comfortable - he didn't move, just watched as she got herself put back together, sans the underpants that were crumpled on the floor on his side of the bed. She didn't need those - even though the walk back to her quarters would be drafty.
"You go get some sleep, Chapel." She nodded at his words and, still running her hands over the back of her skirt to make sure nothing was showing, she backed out of the room without another word, with only another nod to the man she called Bones.
Once the door had closed behind her, McCoy shook his head. Then he raised his hips so he could shuck his own pants without getting up. He was half-hard from eating her out, from Kirk's words, from the whole fucking situation but he didn't touch himself or make a move toward Kirk. McCoy settled back and pulled the blanket up over him and yawned.
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Date: 2010-03-18 07:00 pm (UTC)Was McCoy waiting for him? Was Kirk supposed to make the first move, to keep McCoy from having to? He knew he could not simply lie here, awkwardly, in bed and uncertain. For one, it was far too intimate, more so even than anything that had gone on that day. Which suddenly seemed overwhelming, now that it had stilled around them.
He rolled onto his side, fighting the urge to lick his dry lips.
"You need something?" he asked, his voice low and inviting.
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Date: 2010-03-18 07:16 pm (UTC)"About 6 or 7 uninterrupted fucking hours is what I need." Sleep would be sweet, too. "What about you, Blue? You looking for a fucking goodnight kiss?" With that, McCoy reached to hold Kirk's chin, leaned forward to brush a sweet and soft kiss over the blond's chapped lips. He waited a few heartbeats, then moved their mouths together again, still gentle, still easy until he was done.
McCoy rolled to his other side, bundling himself in the blankets. "Hit the lights when you go to bed. And get some damn moisturizer or something on those lips before you spring a damn open wound from gnawing on them or something."
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Date: 2010-03-18 07:33 pm (UTC)He didn't recognize the basic sweetness of the kiss until it was over, though he had, unconsciously, been on the point of responding.
Kirk blinked again, and then got up, moving almost automatically. Like Chapel, perhaps, but then again not at all. He'd been bent beyond his own recognition, but not broken. There were some sweats folded on the back of the sofa--he put them on, pulled the bed out, and ordered the lights off, all unthinking.
And then lay there, unable to stop thinking in the dark.