FIC: Star Trek 2009: Kirk, McCoy - Fit For a Captain (G) 1/1
Title: Fit For a Captain
Characters: Kirk, Mccoy
Rating: G
Summary: Jim is sick, he's miserable, and he's wearing his favorite cardigan.
Notes: Just properly reposting some old st_xi_kink meme fills I wrote. This was first posted here.
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to any of these characters. I simply dabble in this toybox.
"I can't believe you're wearing that thing," Bones scoffed, making a face at his friend.
Jim was wrapped up in his favorite old sweater, arms wrapped around his chest tightly and a sour expression on his face.
"Leave it alone, Bones," he said, coughing into the elbow of the sweater.
"If you're feeling that sick, I can give you another hypo for the-"
"Bones," Jim pleaded, trying to sound forceful, but really just sounding a bit pathetic, "I'm fine. I'm going to have some soup, and I'm going to wear my sweater, and you're not going to jab me with anymore hyposprays today unless I'm unconscious."
Bones rolled his eyes and steered his friend to a table and pushed him into a seat.
"I'll get it," he said, unable to resist mothering him a little. Jim had the propensity to make him do that without even trying.
It was a testament to just how bad Jim was feeling that he didn't even argue, he just sat and buried himself in the sweater a little more.
It was a thick and well made sweater, but it was a bit tatty and worn from age. He had found it buried in the back of a closet as a child. He'd dug it out and wore it on cold winter nights, nights when his mom was off world and he particularly missed her, nights when he was coughing and sneezing and feeling generally ill.
It had been one of the only things he had taken with him when he left home.
The day Bones first saw him with it in their dorm room at the Academy, he had asked if Jim was out of clean laundry, and the icy glare he received for his smartassery should have frozen him solid.
Since then, Bones has learned not to go too far with the mocking, and Jim learned not to take it to heart.
It wasn't even that he didn't know the cardigan was ugly as hell. He just liked it. He said it had character- it had charm. It was two sizes too big, even to this day, and even though it limply hung on his frame, he wore it with pride.
When Bones came back with a bowl of hot soup for Jim (chicken noodle with carrot, his favorite. Bones even got him some crackers to crumble in, just the way he liked it), he didn't come alone. It was like half the ship had decided to join Bones for lunch, and if anyone said anything about his sweater, they were going to get stuck doing shit work for the next month.
Being captain of your own starship was awesome.
Characters: Kirk, Mccoy
Rating: G
Summary: Jim is sick, he's miserable, and he's wearing his favorite cardigan.
Notes: Just properly reposting some old st_xi_kink meme fills I wrote. This was first posted here.
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to any of these characters. I simply dabble in this toybox.
"I can't believe you're wearing that thing," Bones scoffed, making a face at his friend.
Jim was wrapped up in his favorite old sweater, arms wrapped around his chest tightly and a sour expression on his face.
"Leave it alone, Bones," he said, coughing into the elbow of the sweater.
"If you're feeling that sick, I can give you another hypo for the-"
"Bones," Jim pleaded, trying to sound forceful, but really just sounding a bit pathetic, "I'm fine. I'm going to have some soup, and I'm going to wear my sweater, and you're not going to jab me with anymore hyposprays today unless I'm unconscious."
Bones rolled his eyes and steered his friend to a table and pushed him into a seat.
"I'll get it," he said, unable to resist mothering him a little. Jim had the propensity to make him do that without even trying.
It was a testament to just how bad Jim was feeling that he didn't even argue, he just sat and buried himself in the sweater a little more.
It was a thick and well made sweater, but it was a bit tatty and worn from age. He had found it buried in the back of a closet as a child. He'd dug it out and wore it on cold winter nights, nights when his mom was off world and he particularly missed her, nights when he was coughing and sneezing and feeling generally ill.
It had been one of the only things he had taken with him when he left home.
The day Bones first saw him with it in their dorm room at the Academy, he had asked if Jim was out of clean laundry, and the icy glare he received for his smartassery should have frozen him solid.
Since then, Bones has learned not to go too far with the mocking, and Jim learned not to take it to heart.
It wasn't even that he didn't know the cardigan was ugly as hell. He just liked it. He said it had character- it had charm. It was two sizes too big, even to this day, and even though it limply hung on his frame, he wore it with pride.
When Bones came back with a bowl of hot soup for Jim (chicken noodle with carrot, his favorite. Bones even got him some crackers to crumble in, just the way he liked it), he didn't come alone. It was like half the ship had decided to join Bones for lunch, and if anyone said anything about his sweater, they were going to get stuck doing shit work for the next month.
Being captain of your own starship was awesome.