First, I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who's been following this prompt on the first kink meme and has been patiently waiting for me to finish. Honestly, I think this prompt is one of the best I've seen on both memes, as is evidenced by the fact that it's been filled so many times. I enjoyed filling it very much, but doing so left me emotionally drained at times. It's been a while since I've written angst, and I'm pretty sure I've written better angst in the past.

That aside, I'm a really bad judge of whether or not my own work is angsty enough for others, so please leave me a comment on what you think. Thanks!



Title: Never Go Home Again
Fandom: Star Trek IX
Pairing: Spock/Kirk
Rating: R.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.
Based off of this AMAZING prompt on the first kink meme: prompt
reposted at 2nd kink meme: prompt

Summary: Jim and Spock are in a established relationship, but when Starfleet sends Kirk secret orders to sleep with a foreign leader for a much needed medicinal trade, he decides that the needs of many outweigh those of the few. Now, he must deal with the unbelievable fallout. Oh, and the disgusting beauty of top secret missions is that you can't tell anyone the truth.





Never Go Home Again




1

It happened so suddenly.

Before Jim could so much as reflect back on his wonderful and happy career as a Starfleet captain, anything and everything that made each day worth waking up for had been pulled out from beneath his feet. His dignity, the respect of his crew, and most of all, Spock. These were the sacrifices Jim Kirk had to make in order to maintain the balance of the universe and the safety of his crew.

They certainly didn’t outline situations like the one he found himself in back at the academy. For all that Starfleet waxed poetry about peace and unity of the universe, they were still a military. Kirk had nearly forgotten in the euphoria of his life actually looking up for a change that it was supposed to be an honor, a god damn honor to offer his life for the service.

Now, in the aftermath of the events at Sirius VII, Jim wished that maybe he could have been given the opportunity to go that far. At least if he were dead, then he’d no longer be able to suffer the heart-wrenching pain of his own betrayal and shame. Despite its outward appearance, Starfleet was no stranger to handling matters under the table. Deadly, secret dealings were handled with the upmost care and loyalty. If an officer was ordered to assassinate a foreign dignitary, then they’d do so without question.

Just as Kirk was expected to sleep with the ruling king of Sirius VII in order to maintain a very important and direly necessary trade deal. When negotiations had gotten rough and it looked like Starfleet was about to lose a major supplier for several planet-wide medicinal resources, Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise was ordered through a top secret channel that the terms had changed, and that he was the only one who could bring the advantage back onto their side. The king had specifically requested Kirk, and with an ease of frightening familiarity, Starfleet turned their eyes away from the events happening on Sirius VII.

And just like that, with tears in his eyes and fire burning down his spine, Jim cheated on his lover of three years after swearing to a lifetime of monogamy and love with him.

The disgusting beauty of top secret missions, however, was that you couldn’t tell anyone the truth. The physical signs of his infidelity were immediately obvious just seconds after he transported back to the Enterprise. Though the king had been strangely gracious enough to offer Kirk the means to bathe and put himself to rights, not much could be done to fix the noticeable limp in his step, and the thoroughly glazed look in his eyes. Any man who’d seen his own face in the mirror the morning after a night full of sex would recognize the symptoms Jim was practically radiating.

Scotty had sat up straighter in his seat behind the transporter console, and Spock, dear beautiful Spock who had been waiting faithfully near the room’s entrance for the return of his captain and trusted lover, stiffened noticeably. He might as well have staggered for all that Kirk was an expert in reading his body language. Smiling weakly, Jim had stepped off of the transporter pad and walked straight past his beloved first officer, unable to look him in the eye. Apparently, Spock had been so stunned that he failed to make a protest before Jim quickly slipped out of the room and down the hall. At a fast pace, he made his way to their shared quarters in under a minute. It only took him but a few seconds longer to stagger into the bathroom and vomit. Kneeling on the floor and resting his head weakly against the porcelain toilet, Jim’s breath quickened as he fought off the panicked sobs that were trying to leap from his throat. His life was ending in a symphony of swirling water and choppy whimpers, not how he expected to go when his time came, and certainly not how he intended to let things remain. But for the time being he would just sit. He was so tired.

“Captain.” Spock’s stiff, heavily restrained voice spoke from the open doorway. Kirk jerked a little from his spot on the floor, but otherwise didn’t raise his head. The tension in the small room was dreadfully thick.

“Did you ingest alcoholic substances on your trip down to the planet, Captain?” Spock quietly asked, though Jim could hear the uneven lilt, barely noticeable to someone who hadn’t lived with the Vulcan for three years, in his voice. Jim couldn’t find the strength to speak. He shook his head, negative.

Spock sucked in a surprisingly noisy breath, a true marker of just how terribly Kirk’s actions were upsetting his fragile balance and control.

“Am I to understand that you participated in actions of a sexual nature while on the planet? Jim?” And god damn, if saying his name at the end of a question like that didn’t pierce Kirk to his soul. It was almost like Spock was torturing himself as well, as punishment for ever believing that a human as unextraordinary as James T. Kirk could maintain a monogamous relationship, could keep his word and his dick in his pants. It was with blurry tears in his eyes that Jim nodded his head in confirmation.

Spock made a sound, then. It was quite unlike anything Jim had ever heard, a mix between a gasp and a pained moan. Hardly an adequate utterance for such a monumental disaster as this, but coming from Spock, he might as well have crumbled against the wall and sobbed. It was enough of a realization to make Jim’s shoulders shake and the keening whimpers he had stored in his throat to spill out of his lips and onto the echoing walls of the bathroom.

But by that point, Spock had already left.




2

If there was one thing that could be said in full confidence about the crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise, it was that they were a family.

If there was one thing that could be said in full confidence about Jim, it was that he was an expert in destroying families.

Jim wasn’t sure how long he spent in the bathroom in his and Spock’s quarters, but the plain and awful truth was that once he was able to drag his sore and sorry ass out into the main bedroom, there had been a noticeable lack of Spock’s possessions lying about. Not that his first officer had moved much into the captain’s quarters in the first place, just an expensive looking throw blanket and pillow, some miraculously saved Vulcan texts, and maybe a few other relics and knick knacks that truly made it obvious that more than one person shared the space, and that more than one mind loved and cherished here.

But now, Kirk was painfully and utterly alone. He had betrayed his soulmate, and in turn Spock had left him.

What followed could only be described as the worst days in his life. More than having a regularly absent mother as a child and an incredibly sucky step-father, the palpable tension on the bridge spoke very deeply of just how damaging his actions had been for crew moral. It was no secret that he and Spock had been in a very serious relationship, but they never went out of their way to flaunt what they had. It only made sense, however, that when the shit hit the fan that the rumor mills would start up again and stares and whispers would follow him wherever he went. It wasn’t like it was any of their business, and Jim was sure that there were plenty of crewmembers who couldn’t give a damn about the romantic affairs of their commanding officers, but when it bled over into affecting the command team’s dynamics, then there was a problem. If the captain and first officer were on bad terms with each other, then what did that mean for the safety and efficiency of the ship? Though he tried to act professional, and though Spock’s stilted behavior on the bridge shouldn’t have given away as much as it did, Kirk was quickly losing the battle over the control of his nerves. This wasn’t how Starfleet bridge crews were supposed to be. This wasn’t what he wanted his life to be like.

He saw Spock in the hallway of deck twelve three days after his affair. When their eyes met, Jim sucked up as much courage as he could and made to draw Spock into conversation, about anything, about nothing, something that could work to start filling the gaping hole in his chest. He didn’t manage to get more than a few sentences in, standing in front of his stiff-shouldered first officer, before pain exploded behind his eyes and he staggered into a nearby wall. Spock disdainfully asked whether or not Jim needed to attend sickbay, as inebriation during the midday hours was unsightly at best and not at all appropriate for a Starfleet captain. But he wasn’t drunk, and if he hadn’t been so desperate for Spock to look at him without that hard, dead look in his eyes, then Jim might have punched him. As it was, Jim still couldn’t understand the confusing and devastating encounter that had occurred. What he did gather, however, was that Spock was quickly heading in the direction of ‘never going to forgive you even if you dropped dead at my feet,’ which Jim would do anything to stave off even if it did indeed kill him in the process.

If only he could be so lucky.

“Entering the neutral zone, Captain.” Sulu’s deep voice pierced the uncomfortable silence, causing Kirk to blink back to awareness and glance up at the stiff shoulders of his favorite helmsman. Even the members of the crew who were genuinely his friends weren’t sure how to act around him. It was almost like his betrayal of Spock has acted like a metaphorical betrayal of them all. Was it a slap to the face of his bridge crew to learn that they didn’t really know him like they thought they did? Was he such a gigantic asshole that they just didn’t realize it until it was too late? Sure, Jim had been pretty loose with his affections in the past, and his preferences were notoriously varied, but maturity and monogamy had finally caught up with him as he aged. It must have seemed like a huge, irreversible step backwards to his crew who possessed as much pride in serving under him as he had in serving with them. Because now, the mood was uncertain, and the consequences unknown.

It wasn’t like they were taking sides, really, despite how tense everyone was being with him, it was more like they were simply waiting for an indicator as to who exactly was at fault, and who should be the recipient of their wrath. Jim couldn’t even draw up the energy to feel grateful for this. Sooner or later, they would choose sides, and Jim was left with frightening certainty that few, if any, would choose his.

“Thank you Mr. Sulu.” Kirk responded, coming back to himself and the bridge. “Mr. Spock. . . ?” He trailed off, cursing himself internally as he watched out of the corner of his eye how both Spock and Uhura simultaneously sat up straighter, the latter shooting him a hatred-filled look without censure. Feeling something constrict in his chest, Jim’s lips tightened and he stood up. Several heads raised from their stations at this action, and suddenly Kirk felt an unfamiliar and dreadfully uncomfortable sense of claustrophobia descend upon him.

“You have the con.” He barely managed to get, though thankfully his voice didn’t crack. As it was, there was no doubt in his mind that several pairs of eyes were following his exit from the bridge.

Though he could tell that the one pair he wished for didn’t.




3

For all that Jim really did like Scotty, apparently the man was an uncontrollable blabbermouth and a gossip. It was no wonder that Admiral Archer hated him, missing dog aside. By the end of almost two weeks of separation from Spock, Jim knew with surety that that anyone on his crew who cared even the smallest bit about the relationship between their Captain and First Officer knew the reason for the break up. And if Jim had thought people weren’t taking sides before, he shouldn’t have cursed his luck before things really blew out of proportion.

It was like walking through a sea of distrustful gazes, laughing at his misfortune from behind blank smiles and professionalism. It was ridiculous, because it wasn’t like he was the only person on this ship who had ever done something scandalous. It wasn’t any of their business who he slept with, and really, why should his bedroom antics hold any weight on how the crew viewed him? It was none of their business!

Though he still held rank over every person on his ship, he might as well have been giving orders to well-trained puppets for all that they responded to his commands. Rarely before had Jim felt such stifling mistrust and revulsion directed at someone, least of all himself. The first time had been Nero, and that didn’t exactly end well. It was enough to drive a normal man insane.

For Jim Kirk, it was enough for him to make a very hard decision.

“Bones, what are you thinking about?” Jim asked idly, sitting across from McCoy’s desk in sickbay barely twenty days after what he would now dub ‘the break up’. Bones looked up from the PADD he was reading to throw Kirk a disgruntled look at being interrupted in the middle of his work. But as long as there were no immediate emergencies both of them knew it would take more than an irritated look to dissuade the blond man. Jim was barely gazing in his best friend’s direction. He was more staring at a gleaming silver bauble sitting prettily on a shelf just beyond his friend’s shoulder. A present from Joanna, most likely. Bones wasn’t the type to hold onto unnecessary trinkets.

“Damnit Jim, you want to know what I’m thinking? What the hell is going on with this ship?” Bones waved the hand holding his PADD wildly over his head. “Everyone’s acting like a bomb’s about to go off, and I’ve had more clumsy engineers and science officers in here with broken bones and burns this week than all of last month combined!” When Bones was on a roll, it was best to let him wear himself out without much commentary, but that last statement had Jim sitting up startled, more alert than he’d felt in weeks.

“What? Just how many injuries are we talking about Bones? And when did this start?” Damn it all to hell if his crew was turning into a bunch of first year simpletons because of his mistakes. McCoy sized him up with a careful stare.

“Well, we’ve had a good couple dozen show up in the last few weeks. They’ve been coming in packs, no less. Like just one of them tripping over a wire in engineering wasn’t enough, they needed to bring their neighbors, their toolboxes, and their neighbor’s toolboxes down with them. Goddamn ridiculous if you ask me.” He grumbled, fed up with morons who couldn’t keep themselves out of his sickbay for more than two days at a time. It was tough love all around, but Jim couldn’t bring himself to feel humor this time at Bones’ poorly veiled concern.

“Shit, this is all my fault.” He groaned, dropping his head into his hands. McCoy sat up straight and set down his PADD.

“You sure about that? And while we’re at it, what the hell’s with this rumor I’ve been hearing about you cheating on Spock? Goddamn it to hell, Jim, he’s practically your husband.”

Jim’s shoulder went absolutely still, and he stopped breathing. Really, be was grateful that in the weeks since the incident that McCoy had waited this long before breaching the dreaded topic with him, though he was certain that the doctor must have heard the rumor quite a while ago.

McCoy let out a loud exhalation of breath and came around the desk to sit in the chair beside Jim’s. He was quiet for a few seconds before settling a hand on Jim’s knee. The younger man flinched wildly at the contact, surprising even himself at the reaction. McCoy was staring at him with wide, surprised eyes, before staring at his hand. Jim swallowed around the lump in his throat when he realized that the doctor had unwittingly just discovered. . . a trigger.

“You damn fool, you really did cheat on that green-blooded bastard didn’t you?” McCoy’s expression fell, his eyes holding something along the lines of sympathy, hurt, and not just a little bit of confusion. Jim held his breath when the hand reached out to him again, knowing that this was really the moment he had been waiting for. It was the moment when Bones either decided to ditch his best friend to the curb, or somehow, someway, not immediately turn his back on the stupidest, most intelligent starship captain in the fleet.

The older man shrugged one ungraceful and heavy arm over Jim’s shoulders, curling around his down-turned head and drawing him into his body. Jim tensed when McCoy carefully tucked his head under the other man’s chin and settled an uncompromising hand on top of golden blond hair. Jim shuddered uncontrollably and reached out to clasp handfuls of McCoy’s uniform, breaking just a little bit inside in a way he hadn’t been allowed to since this whole mess first started.

“Damn stupid fool.” Bones whispered again, though this time is wasn’t apparent who exactly he was addressing. At that point Kirk was beyond being able to care. He shuddered again and the wall inside him broke, releasing over three weeks of pent up anguish, anger, and soul-destroying sadness.

McCoy just held him tighter and whispered soft nothings into his hair.

“I didn’t want this to happen.” Jim croaked out, his voice cracking dramatically as he sobbed into McCoy’s shoulder. He knew that he was breaking protocol, and that he was putting them both in unknown danger by saying what he was, but they were the words he wished he could have uttered so long ago to a man who more deserved to hear them.

Bones shushed him quietly, running calming hands down his back. In the back of his mind, Jim had to smile at the change in his friend. Never let it be said that Bones didn’t know how to project a soothing bedside manner when he wanted to. He simply chose to forgo it most of the time, especially when his number one patient was James T. Kirk.

“Bones.” Jim croaked, wiping at his face and moaning at the pounding headache forming behind his eyes.

“You don’t have to say no more.” McCoy whispered back, continuing to rub soothing circles down his back. “I don’t know what the hell is honest to God really going on around this bucket, but I know you Jim Kirk. You may love ‘em and leave ‘em, but you don’t cheat.” McCoy leaned back to tilt Jim’s chin up, staring softly into his bloodshot blue eyes. “I know you Jim.” He whispered again, imploring Kirk to understand.

Jim sniffled unhappily and nodded, putting his head back into the crook of Bones’ shoulder.

“This can’t go on.” He whispered tiredly.




4

Spock and Jim hadn’t hit it off right away in the very beginning. When their five-year mission on board the Enterprise began, the two of them had walked a very perilous line between tentative friends annoyed acquaintances. It was amazing what two years could do, when they breached the barrier of friendship and became lovers. The three years that followed had been the absolute best in Jim’s life. It was just unfathomable how quick and ruthlessly things had fallen apart.

They were soon coming near the end of their five year mission, as was bound to happen eventually. Jim only wished he didn’t feel so damned relieved all of a sudden that in just a few short months he could get away from it all.

It depended now on whether he could even wait that long.




5

It happened on deck four.

“Keptain Kirk?” A voice called uncertainly. Jim halted and turned back towards the direction he’d come from. Pavel Chekov, in all of his uncertain twenty-one year old glory, was standing awkwardly in the hallway with a hesitant, yet frustrated look on his face. He wrung his hands nervously for a few seconds before gaining control over his bad habit and came to stand a few feet away from Kirk.

“Yes Pavel, what can I do for you?” Jim asked kindly, feeling something other than bitterness for the first time in weeks. He’d always had a soft spot for his youngest crew member, and current events notwithstanding, always would. Jim had never had nor wanted a younger brother when he was growing up, but if he had to chose someone for the role, Pavel was at the top of his list.

“Sir, I. . . please forgive Lieutenant Sulu!” Pavel burst out before he lost his nerve, his cheeks flaming in embarrassment and frustration. Jim stared at him, startled, before shaking his head and chuckling sadly under his breath. It was obvious where this development was coming from. He knew that Chekov and Sulu had become fast friends over the years, despite the four year age difference. They cared for each other in a way that Jim was very glad for, even given the circumstances. It didn’t help, though, that in all of the time that had passed since ‘the incident’, Lieutenant Sulu had been a handful and a half to deal with on the bridge. Like Uhura, he never went so far as to outright question Kirk’s orders, but the sheer attitude he projected into each ‘aye Captain’ all but screamed ‘sure thing Captain Dickwad.’ Kirk sighed.

“Pavel-” He started, but the younger man cut him off.

“Please. . . Sir, I am worried.” Chekov said quietly, blue-gray eyes burrowing deep into Jim’s, imploring him to read beneath his words. And in that instant, at that very second, it occurred to the young captain that Chekov knew. Or at least, he was close to knowing the truth. Jim had almost forgotten in the wake of his depression that there were people on this ship smarter than he, smarter than Spock even, geniuses who had yet to reach their full potential, and yet were now standing before him, stuttering awkwardly as they sought instruction on what to do with the knowledge they unerringly couldn’t erase from their consciousness.

Chekov placed a hand over his chest and looked down. “I… Keptain,” He took a deep breath, “I am sure, something just isn’t right–” He tried to say, his voice rising as his emotions began to get away from him, but was cut off when Kirk unexpectedly stepped forward and gently placed his hand on Pavel’s shoulder. The younger man blinked, startled, and let out a strange warble at the unexpected contact from his captain.

“Please, Pavel.” Jim said lowly, almost desperately. “Don’t.”

Just as Pavel was opening his mouth to protest, loud footsteps echoed down the hallway from where Chekov had come. The two blonds turned to look and both blanched at the dark glare on Hikaru Sulu’s face. Jim let his hand fall to his side.

“Pavel.” Sulu called, or more like demanded if Kirk knew any better. Chekov winced visibly and shot Jim an apologetic look. Jim tried to smile, but by then Sulu had situated himself between the two of them, his back to Chekov as he glared at Kirk, almost borderline insubordinate.

Apparently being bitchy on the bridge was one thing, but encroaching on Sulu’s best friend was an entirely different ballgame.

“Lieutenant.” Kirk greeted lightly, shifting his weight and squaring his shoulders. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought Sulu was about to punch his lights out. But of course, he really did know better, as did Sulu. They both knew that despite their past as friends, Kirk possessed the power to completely ruin the helmsman’s future. Attacking a superior officer, especially the captain of all people, looked really bad on one’s service record.

Sulu eyed him warily, not dropping his guard for a second, before reaching back and finding Chekov’s wrist.

“Excuse us, Captain.” He muttered, voice dripping with so much disdain that it had Chekov staring at his friend with wide, panicked eyes. He shot Kirk a quick, pleading look, but the older man just rolled his eyes.

“Dismissed.” He muttered under his breath, rubbing his eyes, before turning and walking away in exasperation. He waved his hand over his shoulder and called without looking back, “Take it easy Checkers!”

And just like that, one more potential outlet for help had been silenced.




6

It happened in the darkness of morn.

“Hey Bones,” Jim whispered, reaching out to playfully nudge his best friend in the face with a socked foot. McCoy grumbled like the big fat drunken teddy bear that he was and swatted Jim’s foot away.

“What?” He asked, taking a well deserved swig of whiskey. Jim giggled and rolled off of McCoy’s bunk and onto the floor next to his friend. He grabbed the bottle from lax fingers and took a sip as well.

“Wanna know a secret?” He asked conspiratorially, leaning into McCoy and grinning widely.

Bones grumbled again and grunted some sort of a yes, which Jim took to mean ‘please tell me all of your universe-defining secrets, oh Great James Tiberius Kirk.’ He tilted his head up towards the ceiling and breathed.

“Guess how old I was when I first had sex.” He said. Bones coughed on the sip he was taking and wheezed for breath under his laughter.

“Goddamn Jim, what kind of question is that? I don’t wanna know when Little Jim made his first triumphant appearance into the world. How old were you? I dunno. Fourteen? Fifteen?” Bones continued to laugh, tears beading at the corners of his eyes and his cheeks flushing a merry drunken pink.

Jim smiled fondly at his antics, but asked again, voice lower this time. “How old do you think I was, Bones?”

McCoy’s laughter trailed off as Jim continued to gaze at him. He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I guess. . . ” He bumped his shoulder into Jim’s and stayed there. “Judging by the look on your face, this is probably a trick question.”

Jim smiled. The older man grunted and leaned back, but kept a firm arm around Jim’s shoulders. “Seventeen?” He asked, genuinely curious. There were a lot of things he knew about his best friend, but never had he ever felt the need to ask such a question that seemed to the universe at large to be ridiculously obvious. But hell, apparently not.

“Nope.” Kirk grinned, enjoying the slight widening of Bone’s eyes. He took a swig of the whiskey. “I was twenty.” He proudly declared, laughing happily when Bones actually fell over onto his side, staring up at Jim in drunken amazement.

“Really?” McCoy laughed. “Damn kid, what the hell did you do to get the whole of the state of Iowa thinking that you were God’s gift to the sexually inclined?”

Jim laughed loudly, standing up on two dangerously wobbly legs. “It doesn’t take much to get the girls talking, Bones. You get one of them to take off their panties and the next thing you know five of her best friends have heard all of the imaginary details of how much of a sex fiend I am in the sack.”

Bones grinned. “Loose lips sink ships.”

“Yah, except for that’s totally not what that saying means in this case.”
“Still applies, though.”

Jim flopped back onto Bone’s bed and stared at the ceiling. His vision was starting to get hazy around the edges and he couldn’t really feel his fingers anymore. Oh well.

“You wanna know the thing that sucks about all of that, Bones?” He asked.
McCoy sat up as well, albeit slower, and leaned his elbows on his mattress. “Let me guess, all of those rumors and tall tales gave you a reputation you didn’t actually deserve.”

Jim nodded, then decided that made his head swim a little too much and said out loud. “The thing is, Bones,” he slurred, reaching down for the bottle and taking another gulp, “the thing is, I don’t think a lot of people would get it.” He declared, motioning in the air lazily with one hand as if this would explain his entire life with ease. Suddenly, there was a burning in the back of his eyes, making him feel as if he was drowning. He sat up.

“They don’t really know me. They don’t know what I’m going through.” He said drearily. “Starfleet really did a number on this one. They sure made a mistake.” He swayed dangerously, a nasty sneer on his face. “Ha! They managed to kill two birds with one stone.” He sniffed loudly and rubbed at his eyes. McCoy was staring at him in confusion and was trying to climb onto the bed next to him. Jim continued, drunker than he’d felt in a long time and loving the release it allowed him, “Got their damn medicine and also managed to ruin a damn good captain. And I am a good captain. So what if I’m young? Everyone was young once. Everyone had to go on a first mission, make mistakes. So what if I did all of that a few years early? Just about everything in my life has been put on fast forward.” He knew he was rambling but couldn’t stop.

“Jim, what the hell are you talking about? I think you’ve had enough.” McCoy said, tugging the bottle out of Kirk’s loose fingers and capping it. He tossed it lightly onto a pillow on the floor then turned to his distraught friend. “Jim?” He asked cautiously.

Kirk turned and met his gaze, tears flowing freely and his face blotchy with sadness. “You see, the thing is, you tell them that you had to cheat on your boyfriend, and that it was like, really crummy sex, and that it’s seriously fucked you up in the head. And what do they say? Well,” He sniffed and wiped at his eyes, “they ask you what the hell is so horrible about it!” He threw his arms up in the air in hysterical exasperation. “They think they know me. They think they’ve got a clue what’s going on inside my head. Poor baby, so inconvenienced.” He coughed suddenly, doubling over, causing McCoy to scramble up onto the bed and rub his back.

Jim was staring down at his legs, thinking. “And you know what? He wasn’t even a bad guy, really. When he did it to me, he went really slow. And then he fucked me, really, slowly.” Jim emphasized this with a slow waving motion of his hand. “Except it wasn’t really fucking, you know? That guy was making love to me.” He laughed bitterly, “Except, what the hell do I know about love?” He dragged a hand down his face harshly, pinching the bridge of his nose and willing himself to pass out. But it was not to be.

McCoy was trying to turn Jim’s face towards him, but the younger man fought him off. Then, without warning, one of McCoy’s hands briefly settled on Jim’s knee. The blond man let out an unhappy cry, jerking away. He stared unseeingly at McCoy, shamed and upset at the whole world in general. He sobbed. “And damnit, so what if I’m kinda traumatized now?” His eyes were glassy and bright. He met McCoy’s gaze. “So what if…so what if I wanna resign from Starfleet, get as far away from this goddamn federation as fast as I can. What do they know? They’d probably think that such a little thing isn’t worth resigning over-”

“Jim!” McCoy gasped, tears blurring in his eyes as he finally found his voice. He was breathing hard, gasping for breath as he grabbed Kirk by the back of his head and jerked the younger man into a stranglehold hug. Jim let out a mix between a laugh and a bawl, clutching McCoy’s shirt. Bones was equally shaking, weeping freely and without embarrassment.

“Oh Jim, oh Jim.” He gasped over and over, unable to put words to what he was feeling and what he was hearing. It would have been damn near too much to take in sober, which made hearing it shitfaced in the early hours of the morning even harder. Neither of them could quite find the right muscle control or mental reserve to calm down in this state.

“Bones.” Jim pleaded, and McCoy nodded, cradling his captain and best friend’s body gently to his.

“Okay Jim, I’ve got yah. You’re alright. I’m here.” He grabbed the bedding that had been kicked to the bottom of the bed. “It’s okay. Shush now darling, you’re fine. That’s it.” He soothed softly amidst the hitching of his own breath and the pounding in his skull. Jim moaned piteously and leaned into the embrace. “Alright now, you just take deep breaths Jim.” He covered them both with the thick sheets and massaged small circles in the back of Kirk’s neck.

“We’re really gonna feel this one in the morning, huh Bones?” Jim laughed weakly, eyes unfocused and breathing uneven, despite his body quickly heading towards exhausted unconsciousness.

“You bet your pretty ass we will. I’m calling in sick.” He grumbled. Jim laughed again.

“Me too. Don’t worry, I’ll put in a good word with the captain. I hear he’s a pretty cool dude.”

McCoy groaned. “Seriously, worst joke ever.”

“Nah, the crowd loves me.” Jim breathed, eyes sliding closed without his consent and his chest rising slower than before. McCoy brushed his fingers through blond fringe and placed a gentle dry kiss on the warm, sweaty skin.

“Somebody loves you, Jim.”

part 2


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