zinnith | ST:XI fic: Deceleration (Kirk/McCoy, PG)

I just couldn't help myself.

Title: Deceleration
Author: Zinnith
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: PG
Wordcount: ~1100
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

A/N: For the Star Trek Reboot Drabble Challenge, prompt #56. Kirk/McCoy, a change of pace. Be warned that I have not written Star Trek since I was twelve (and no, you do not want to read those). Not beta'd, just trying out a few things.

Summary: The thing about Jim Kirk is, he doesn't know how to stop.

Deceleration

The thing about Jim Kirk is, he doesn't know how to stop. For as long as Leonard has known him (it has to be more than three years, feels like forever) he's always been a flurry of motion and activity, never able to sit still, stay put, slow down. Jim is so full of energy that it's like he has his own personal warp core.

Leonard loses track of both time and Jim afterwards. When he finally has Captain Pike stabilised and the most serious injuries in the Sick Bay are bruised shins and egos that the nurses and medics are fully qualified to take care of on their own, he looks up and finds that several hours have passed and that he hasn't seen Jim since their narrow escape from the black hole.

It would probably be a good idea to go up to the bridge and drag Jim down to Sick Bay to get him patched up. Leonard knows how Jim is when he's hopped up on adrenaline like he has to be right now, he won't even feel any injuries he might have. But what Leonard also knows is that there's no use to push when Jim is like this. You have to wait him out. So Leonard keeps himself busy, checks up on his patients, goes over their journals, all the things there wasn't time for before. His eyes are gritty with an exhaustion that reminds him of residency, but he won't go off-duty until he's seen Jim taken care of.

Sure enough, some time later Spock hails him, saying that, "I believe Captain Kirk would benefit from your attention, Doctor." Leonard heads for the bridge, muttering to himself that the green-blooded bastard took his sweet time to start being concerned about Jim's well-being. Jim himself seems to have been quick to forgive Spock for throwing him off the ship, but Leonard has spent over thirty years holding grudges and he can't see any reason to stop now.

Stepping out of the transporter, Leonard can see that he arrived just in time. The acting Captain is stalking around the bridge in constant motion, clearly aware of the fact that if he sits down now, he won't get up again. Jim's a mess. One eye is swelling shut, every inch of skin Leonard can see is covered in dirt and scrapes and bruises.

He has to get right in front of Jim's face before his friend even realises he's there. "Jim, time for your check-up."

Jim just side-steps him, moving more for the sake of moving than anything else. "Later, Bones. I don't have time right now."

Leonard has anticipated this response. He grabs Jim's shoulder and turns him around to face the transporter, prepared to frog-march him off the bridge if he has to. "Now. Or I'll declare you unfit for duty and drag you down to Sick Bay anyway."

Jim turns his head, eyes wide with betrayal. "You wouldn't!"

"Just try me," Leonard answers and pushes him towards the transporter. Jim has to make a show of resisting, of course, but there doesn't seem to be that much fight left in him because he goes with Leonard even while shouting orders over his shoulder to the crew left on the bridge.

Leonard walks to the Sick Bay at a leisurely pace while Jim hurries ahead of him, still with his mind set on the next thing, the next step. "Think you can hurry up a little, Bones?

"Sit," Leonard orders, pointing to a free examination table. "And take your shirt off." Jim leers and jumps up on the table while Leonard draws the privacy curtains shut, feeling strangely possesive. Jim doesn't mind going shirtless. As a matter of fact, he frequently goes to great efforts to lose his shirt. But right now, Leonard wants him to himself. He wants to get reacquainted with Jim's skin, allow his fingers to learn it all over again.

Jim is covered in bruises underneath the shirt as well. Over the course of the past day, he's been beaten up, stranded in a snowstorm, beaten up, choked, and surprise! beaten up again. If Leonard ever has to clean up another drop of Jim's blood, it'll be too soon.

He goes as slow as he can, closing the cuts and desinfecting them. None of the injuries are serious, there's nothing that won't heal with time and a little rest. But Jim's body is all but vibrating under Leonard's hands, like sitting still is causing him pain, and his muscles are so tense that they have to hurt worse than the deep bruises.

"Are you done?" Jim asks as Leonard turns his back, putting away his things. "Can I get back to the bridge?"

Not on your life, Leonard thinks, but what he says is: "In a moment. I want to take a look at your shoulders first."

"There's nothing wrong with my shoulders," Jim protests. Leonard walks up behind him and pokes his thumbs into that place under Jim's shoulderblade where the worst knots are always forming. Jim almost jumps off the table, starting upright with wide eyes. "Ow! Stop that!"

"Do you want to be able to move tomorrow?"

Jim grudgingly sits down again, relaxing just a little bit and Leonard continues his administrations. A muscle relaxant would do the same job, but he likes to do this with his own hands. He takes his time, digging his fingers deep into Jim's coiled-up muscles, loosening them up enough for Jim to be able to rest. He knows how this works by now, knows how to bring Jim down, make him stop for a while.

He'd never say it out loud but he's rather fond of Jim like this, relaxed and a little punch-drunk, swaying slowly from side to side. He's warm and pliant under Leonard's hands, the tension leaking out of him, leaving his body loose and uncoordinated.

Leonard keeps going until Jim's breathing slows down and he stops grunting in discomfort every time Leonard hits a tender spot. Then he just stands still, hands resting on Jim's shoulders, satisfied to feel how the restless, adrenaline-fueled energy has dissipated.

"Better?" he asks.

"Mhmm," Jim mumbles. His eyes are closed, his head leaning back against Leonard's chest. He's all but asleep, finally.

"Come on, lie down for a bit."

Jim lets himself be eased down into a horisontal position and covered with a blanket. For a while, Leonard watches the slow, steady movement of Jim's chest. Then he hails Spock to inform him that the Captain will be resting for a while.

-fin-