Fic: This is for you, Mr Kobayashi - Jim/Bones, PG
Title: This is for you, Mr. Kobayashi
Author: qthelights
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, I just play with them.
Spoilers: Star Trek XI
A/N: Thanks to cupiscent for the read through and helpful comments!
Summary: Pride comes before a fall, especially when there are apples involved.
Jim swaggers out of the simulator suite, shoulders back, chin jutted out and a grin plastered on his face. He takes a defiant bite of the apple in his hand and takes great pleasure in crunching it loudly beneath his teeth.
Starting down the hall, Bones jogs up from behind him, and even the look he gives Jim can’t dampen Jim’s mood.
He owns the mother fucking world, man.
“What?” His grin belies the innocent tone.
Bones is having none of it. “What boneheaded thing did you do?” he growls, eyebrows lowering into angry shelves over his eyes.
“When, exactly?” Jim counters, fairly prancing down the steps of the hall, out into the sunshine of the quad.
He is not going to be anything other than triumphant right now. This is his moment and no one can take it from him. Especially not Bones.
“Cut it out, Jim,” Bones says angrily, grabbing Jim’s elbow and pulling him to a stop facing him. Jim can’t help the hip that he juts out defiantly and arm he crosses against his chest.
Bones’ stance is wide and rigidly straight.
“Oh lighten up, Bones,” he quips, punctuates it with a bite of his almost gone apple. “We just made history.”
“As the first cadets to get thrown out for tampering with Starfleet training protocol?”
“I doubt we’re the first to do that,” Jim grins.
A last bite has him down to the apple’s core. It’s sweet, if not sweeter than the first bite. Then it tasted like anticipation, now it tastes like victory. A cloudy white drip of juice runs down the back of his fingers and across his wrist.
Bones snorts in frustration, and maybe a little amusement. He remains silent, eyes fixed on the trail of liquid on Jim’s skin.
“Even you can’t deny how good it fucking felt when we beat their little test,” Jim prods. He knows deep down that Bones is impressed. He’s just as elated as Jim is, even if some weird sense of professional ethic won’t allow him to show it.
The slight tug at the corner of Bones’ pursed mouth confirms the chord he’s struck.
“See,” Jim crows. “Here’s to you, Mr. Kobayashi!” He pulls his arm back, coiled, and pitches forward, throwing the apple core high and wide. It falls in a perfect arc into the rose bushes over the other side of the commons.
A pretty brunette ensign walking past gives him a scathing look. Jim grins wider, if possible, and winks at her.
She has very nice legs.
“I don’t think there is a ‘Mr. Kobayashi,’” Bones deadpans with a roll of his eyes at the familiar scene of Jim tilting his head to follow the ass of the girl.
Jim shrugs, “What would you know, then? You’re a doctor, not an historian.”
Bones sighs, but acquiesces; Jim knows he will, no one can win when he’s like this, it’s what he likes best about rampant victory.
“True, I suppose,” comes Bones’ expected reply.
What isn’t expected, at least as far as Jim’s concerned, is Bones suddenly reaching forward and plucking Jim’s wrist in his grip.
His eyes lock on the image of Bones’ long fingers wrapped around his wrist. His gaze follows it as Bones yanks it up to his mouth and angrily swipes at the trail of apple juice with his tongue.
“The hell?” Jim splutters, an arch of an eyebrow in question.
Now Bones is grinning. “Trust me, I’m a doctor,” he says and adds a nip of his teeth to the tendons in Jim’s wrist.
The shudder that runs lightning-quick through Jim’s torso is inherently not in keeping with his mastery of the world. Though judging by the smugness practically radiating off Bones, it is apparently very satisfying to him. If Jim were able to access any part of his higher brain function, he suspects he might give some consideration to the idea that Bones might be making a point.
Bones lets go of Jim’s wrist and it falls limply to his side.
“Now, are you done with your damn crowing, or can we go make use of the time we have before you’re kicked out of this place?”
Bones turns on his heel and marches off in the direction of student quarters.
Jim stands stock still, and then shakes it off like a dog just out of water. He jogs to catch up to his friend. All thoughts of Kobayashi - maru, mister, or otherwise - completely forgotten.
Author: qthelights
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, I just play with them.
Spoilers: Star Trek XI
A/N: Thanks to cupiscent for the read through and helpful comments!
Summary: Pride comes before a fall, especially when there are apples involved.
Jim swaggers out of the simulator suite, shoulders back, chin jutted out and a grin plastered on his face. He takes a defiant bite of the apple in his hand and takes great pleasure in crunching it loudly beneath his teeth.
Starting down the hall, Bones jogs up from behind him, and even the look he gives Jim can’t dampen Jim’s mood.
He owns the mother fucking world, man.
“What?” His grin belies the innocent tone.
Bones is having none of it. “What boneheaded thing did you do?” he growls, eyebrows lowering into angry shelves over his eyes.
“When, exactly?” Jim counters, fairly prancing down the steps of the hall, out into the sunshine of the quad.
He is not going to be anything other than triumphant right now. This is his moment and no one can take it from him. Especially not Bones.
“Cut it out, Jim,” Bones says angrily, grabbing Jim’s elbow and pulling him to a stop facing him. Jim can’t help the hip that he juts out defiantly and arm he crosses against his chest.
Bones’ stance is wide and rigidly straight.
“Oh lighten up, Bones,” he quips, punctuates it with a bite of his almost gone apple. “We just made history.”
“As the first cadets to get thrown out for tampering with Starfleet training protocol?”
“I doubt we’re the first to do that,” Jim grins.
A last bite has him down to the apple’s core. It’s sweet, if not sweeter than the first bite. Then it tasted like anticipation, now it tastes like victory. A cloudy white drip of juice runs down the back of his fingers and across his wrist.
Bones snorts in frustration, and maybe a little amusement. He remains silent, eyes fixed on the trail of liquid on Jim’s skin.
“Even you can’t deny how good it fucking felt when we beat their little test,” Jim prods. He knows deep down that Bones is impressed. He’s just as elated as Jim is, even if some weird sense of professional ethic won’t allow him to show it.
The slight tug at the corner of Bones’ pursed mouth confirms the chord he’s struck.
“See,” Jim crows. “Here’s to you, Mr. Kobayashi!” He pulls his arm back, coiled, and pitches forward, throwing the apple core high and wide. It falls in a perfect arc into the rose bushes over the other side of the commons.
A pretty brunette ensign walking past gives him a scathing look. Jim grins wider, if possible, and winks at her.
She has very nice legs.
“I don’t think there is a ‘Mr. Kobayashi,’” Bones deadpans with a roll of his eyes at the familiar scene of Jim tilting his head to follow the ass of the girl.
Jim shrugs, “What would you know, then? You’re a doctor, not an historian.”
Bones sighs, but acquiesces; Jim knows he will, no one can win when he’s like this, it’s what he likes best about rampant victory.
“True, I suppose,” comes Bones’ expected reply.
What isn’t expected, at least as far as Jim’s concerned, is Bones suddenly reaching forward and plucking Jim’s wrist in his grip.
His eyes lock on the image of Bones’ long fingers wrapped around his wrist. His gaze follows it as Bones yanks it up to his mouth and angrily swipes at the trail of apple juice with his tongue.
“The hell?” Jim splutters, an arch of an eyebrow in question.
Now Bones is grinning. “Trust me, I’m a doctor,” he says and adds a nip of his teeth to the tendons in Jim’s wrist.
The shudder that runs lightning-quick through Jim’s torso is inherently not in keeping with his mastery of the world. Though judging by the smugness practically radiating off Bones, it is apparently very satisfying to him. If Jim were able to access any part of his higher brain function, he suspects he might give some consideration to the idea that Bones might be making a point.
Bones lets go of Jim’s wrist and it falls limply to his side.
“Now, are you done with your damn crowing, or can we go make use of the time we have before you’re kicked out of this place?”
Bones turns on his heel and marches off in the direction of student quarters.
Jim stands stock still, and then shakes it off like a dog just out of water. He jogs to catch up to his friend. All thoughts of Kobayashi - maru, mister, or otherwise - completely forgotten.