Tag: mckirk

Whumptober, Day 11 “Hypothermia”

captainkirkmccoy:

“Jim?”

“Yeah, Bones?”

“I’m c-cold.”

“I know.” Jim nestled closer and prayed, pleaded, to any of the powers that be  for the signal to come through and for them to be transported onto the ship already. It had been four hours since he heard from anyone. Three hours since his comm shut down completely.

He’d been warned, of course, that going down to the surface of Luxper might be a one-way-trip, that it was too risky to beam to a planet with signal interference when there was no way of knowing if Bones was alive.

“You s-shouldn’t have c-ccome.” Bones said, as if he snatched the thought out of Jim’s head.

“Shh.” Jim pressed closer as a gust of biting wind slammed into his back. Luxper had no structures or shelter. They had been holding Bones in the middle of a field and they disintegrated when Jim showed up, phaser pointed, ready to call backup.

They wouldn’t last too much longer this way. Jim wasn’t freezing yet but he would be–he had given Bones every piece of clothing he could and on top of that the heat blankets he’d found in the medical pack M’Benga had given him before he transported down. 

“You remember my survival eval?” Jim asked, rubbing his hands down the crinkly surface of the heat blanket that was wrapped around Bones like a burrito. 

“‘Course I do. Idiot.” Bones said, sounding more like himself since Jim landed here.

Jim couldn’t help but grin. They’d both managed to skirt disaster for three years at the Academy, despite the odds of them washing out stacked damn high against them and the near misses of Jim getting caught with some of his less reputable antics. All it took was a dumbass instructor who should have been in the academy himself and Bones mean streak of a protective instinct to get them both on suspension. 

“Reminds me of this.” Jim said. “Though we got bailed out pretty quickly.”

“Barely. You nearly lost a foot.” 

“You’re being dramatic. Only woulda been a few toes.” Jim remembered Bones slapping him awake, first bullying him, then cajoling, then begging. Both their lips had turned blue and Jim had been blessedly warm when rescue came. 

“Thanks to me.” Bones coughed. 

“So there’s no one else I’d wanna stay frozen too.” Jim said. “Again.”

Jim lost some skin and it took two weeks to fix. But Bones had lost more and still had scars on his shoulder from where they were stuck together. Jim spent a lot of time kissing those marks. 

“What’d you say to me then, Bones?” 

“For every few minutes I stay awake, I’d tell you something.” 

“Tease.”

It was the first time Bones had told him he loved him. When he woke up under unforgiving Medbay lights he thought he’d dreamt it in a hypothermic hallucination. 

But then Bones had kissed him in their quarters when he was released from the hospital (he’d discharged himself against orders early). 

“Hey, Bones?”

“Yeah?”

“For every few minutes you stay awake, I’ll ask you something?”

Bones shuddered. “That right?”

It was an unconventional way to propose but Jim figured they were unconventional anyway. 

bonesmctightass:

For anon.

The shower was nice. Really nice. Did wonders for the aches and pains in Jim’s body, beaten into him by that goddamn upperclassman who’s hell-bent on putting him in an early grave. Jim’s been in the bathroom for well over an hour now and he knows he’ll have to face the music one way or another.

A loud knock sounds at the locked door followed by a concerned voice.

“Darlin’. Jim. Come on. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” McCoy says, warm and gentle and all kinds of perfect. Of course he knows. Always knows.

Jim sighs heavily, resting his forehead on the cold tile as the water beats down on his back. It’s gone cold and he’ll probably get hypothermia if he doesn’t get dry.

Fuck.

“I’m coming.” He calls, fairly proud of himself for not sounding at all like he was just crying his eyes out five minutes ago.

He shuts the water off.

“But you have to go away. Least until I get dressed.” Jim says resolutely. He can’t bear the pitiful look Bones gives him when he’s been on the business end of a closed fist. Not tonight.

“Jim—” McCoy starts but doesn’t get to finish.

“Please.”

A steady beat of silence passes before Jim hears a frustrated grunt and receding footsteps.

Releasing a breath he hasn’t realized he was holding, Jim exits the bathroom and hurriedly dresses himself. The standard issue Academy sweats fit loosely enough, but the hood over his head does nothing to hide the damage to his face.

“Now?” McCoy pleads from the other side of the door to their dormitory after a handful of minutes.

Slightly panicked, Jim turns to lay himself flat on his stomach. Safely hidden under the blankets of his bed, he gives McCoy the green light.

Jim hears the door open and slam shut seconds before McCoy’s crossed the room.

“Show me.” McCoy demands.

A firm head shake and a white knuckled grip on the hood of his sweater is McCoy’s answer.

The bed dips suddenly with McCoy’s added weight. Jim startles when he feels his hips being straddled and he makes the mistake of turning his head to protest.

“Who gave you the black eye?” McCoy asks quietly, a lot steadier than he probably feels.

He already knows the answer. It doesn’t need to be said.

Jim deflates, lets McCoy pull the hood from his head.

“Oh, Jim.” McCoy sighs. “Come on. Let me look at you.” He rears up on his knees and bids Jim to turn over. Jim does without a fuss.

Big calloused hands come up to cradle Jim’s mottled face, careful to avoid the tender area around his left eye as he inspects the damage.

“I don’t know why you won’t let me lay him out.” McCoy says, suddenly angry. “You say the word and it’s done, Jim. Let me get my hands on this Finnegan and hypo him into the next millennium. I swear on my mama he won’t be a problem for you anymore.”

Jim manages a weak smile and pulls McCoy down for a tender kiss. “Sorry, Bones. But I can’t let you get kicked out of the program. I’m gonna need you on my ship.”

For a long moment, McCoy simply stares down at him, unblinking.

“Damn it, Jim.” McCoy says quietly, defeated, hanging his head and fisting the sheets under him.

“I know something you could do to help.”

McCoy lifts his head so fast Jim’s surprised he didn’t get whiplash.

“Name it,” McCoy says with determination in his beautiful eyes. “Anything.”

Jim reaches up to wind his arms around McCoy’s shoulders.

“Kiss me everywhere it hurts.”

Instantly, McCoy goes soft.

“Yeah.” He says. “Yeah, I can do that.”

bonesmctightass:

For @zonya35

This is a bad idea. So horribly, undeniably, catastrophically disastrous. The worst idea Jim Kirk has ever had.

“Complete the flight track, Jim said.” McCoy grumbles mockingly, shaking hands trying and failing to do up the flight uniform.

“You can be acting captain in emergencies, Jim said.” He’s got the shakes so goddamn bad he keeps missing the zipper catch. Obviously, he’s nowhere near drunk enough for a practice run. Certification be damned. “Idiot. Stupid, dumb idiot.”

“I can hear you.” Jim says, wearing that ridiculous pout of his and crossing his arms childishly.

The hovercraft looks massive on the hangar deck. It stands, lonely, waiting for McCoy to board and get hopelessly, devastatingly lost in space. Or crash into an academic building. Or get blown out of the sky by some horrifying unknown intergalactic threat. McCoy swallows thickly.

“Nope.” He says, resolute. “Absolutely not.”

McCoy turns on his heel, about to begin his trek back to the dormitory when Jim grabs his collar and stops him in his tracks.

“Hold it right there, Bones. You are getting on that ship or so help me.”

For a long moment McCoy just stares, glancing between this perfect fucking blonde jackass and the uncertain death that undoubtedly resides on the bridge of the ship. Then, shaking his head, McCoy jerks out of Jim’s hold and breaks out into a run out of the hangar.

Not the most dignified of exits.

He can hear Jim’s heavy footfalls behind him, right on his tail and gaining. McCoy comes to a stop at the quad and doubles over, hands clutching his knees and struggling to fill his lungs with air.

“Bones, come on. You’ll never get over this fear you have if you don’t face it head on.” He hears Jim say. Then a firm hand comes to lay on McCoy’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly.

“It’ll be okay. Perfectly safe. I’ll be right there with you, I’ll help you. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. Really, Bones, have I ever lied to you?”

At this point McCoy stands to his full height and shoots a glare over his shoulder. “You can’t possibly promise me that.” He says, much harsher than he means.

Jim deflates a little and McCoy feels a searing stab of guilt pierce his heart.

“Sorry,” McCoy grunts quietly. “Fine. Fine, I’ll do it. But so help me, Jim Kirk, if something happens to me up there I will haunt you in the afterlife.”

Pleased with that, Jim nods eagerly and takes McCoy’s hand to lead him back. Why did he have to fall in love with such a reckless optimistic moron?

Because, the little voice in McCoy’s head says, he’s everything you’re not. And you need him like you need air.

They make it back to the hangar and McCoy is, somehow, sitting stiffly at the helm with Jim to his left.

“Okay, now just do what you did in the flight simulator. You remember, right?” Jim says encouragingly. “You got the highest score in your class, if I recall. This’ll be the same thing. You’ll do great, Bones.”

“Shut up, Jim. Just shut up and let me concentrate.” McCoy says, well aware of how strained his voice sounds but without the wherewithal to do anything about it.

He remembers this part well enough. Getting the ship going isn’t the problem. Leaving the hangar and ascending to cruising altitude isn’t even what makes McCoy’s blood turn to ice. They get in the air just fine. It’s the staying afloat that matters.

McCoy’s gripping the console so hard his knuckles are going white. So far everything is fine.

Until the cabin starts to shudder and jolt.

“It’s turbulence. It’s normal, Bones. Just crossing over those jet streams is all. Totally fine.”

Except it’s not fine. Nothing is fine. Nothing ever has been or will ever be fine. McCoy has tunnel vision and he can’t remember how to breathe and he’s trembling.

“I can’t do this. I can’t do this, I need to get down, I can’t—.” McCoy can feel the tears welling up in his eyes.

Jim must’ve engaged the auto pilot because he’s out of his seat and pulling McCoy’s hands away from the controls.

“Bones. Hey. Listen to me, Bones.”

But he’s not listening. Jim is saying something and McCoy can’t hear a word of it. All he can think about is ‘I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’mgoingtodie, I’mabouttodie, helpme——’

Then a solid weight settles on his lap and a gentle softness caresses his face. McCoy blinks hard and Jim comes back into focus, sitting there on his lap, filling his vision, looking all kinds of ethereal with the sun at his back through the windshield.

“You are okay.” Jim says firmly, staring him hard in the eyes.

“I am okay.” McCoy repeats slowly, without thought.

“You are okay and you are going to get us back down safely.”

McCoy nods.

And he does.

McKirk, A/B/O

pherryt:

OH MY GOD

THIS is what you send in for 3 sentences? 3 SENTENCES? HOW?

I’ve never even CONSIDERED doing McKirk as an A/B/O before and you want me to boil it down to 3 SENTENCES?

Hahaha… oh man! *wipes tears* that ain’t happening… we got…i’m not sure i wanna try counting sentences here lol. 

Ok, if i counted right, you’ve got the longest 3 sentences i’ve done so far: 16 😀

(P.S. Thank you 😀 )

Leonard frowned down at his pad, tapping the notification that had popped up in the corner. It was from Jim, only one word.

“Tonight.”

Frowning, he tapped the pad again, opening his private schedule and checking the dates. With everything going on, had he lost track of time? He usually kept better track of Jim’s heats than this.

In fact, as Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise, it was part of his job to keep track of everyones ruts and heats, so as to be able to better help them. There was nothing that even modern medicine could do to completely halt the natural cycles of their secondary genders, but it could delay them, temper and ease them for the least amount of disruption in their lives as possible.

This was especially important in such circumstances as space exploration, when you needed to be ready for any emergency that may occur.

But sometimes, the medicines rebounded, as if to make up for lost time.

Staring down at his calender, noting that Jim’s heat was over a week early, Leonard realized it was one of those times, which would make this absolutely rough on his mate.

It was time to make arrangements to cover for both of them over the next week. If all went well, it’d be over in 3, but rebound heats had a way of being unpredictable.

Still, he and Jim had perfectly capable staff working for them. Spock and Christine could surely hold things together for the duration they’d be occupied, however long it wound up being.

Typing out a quick message, Leonard hit send.

“I’ll be ready.”

3 Sentence Fics – send a ship/pairing plus AU and watch me fail keeping it to 3 sentences…