What happens in Vegas (NC-17)
Title: What Happens in Vegas
Author: witblogi
Pairing: Jim Kirk/Julius Caesar
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~4200
Prompt: One character wishes on a star/coin in a fountain and Character 2 is the answer to that wish.
Summary: Shore Leave alone in Sin City isn't all it's cracked up to be
Warnings: ahh, frottage, historically inaccurate undergarments, Jim in denial
Author’s Notes: This fix very nearly didn't make it. 100% props to wyntreaurora for cheering it on until the very end when I was ready to kick it and leave it for dead.
The metal shone in the sunlight. The small crudely made Enterprise silhouette charm was attached to a length of cord, clumsily but lovingly knotted. On the back was the simple and roughly hewn letters J + J.
Jim swept the pad of his thumb over them and smiled fondly, tucking the charm back into his shirt. Jim and Joanna, J + J. Last shore leave had found Jim in good fortune, soaking up the oppressive heat of Atlanta, Georgia with the McCoy family of two. He would have done the same this leave as well, but there were more variables to the equation. Bones’ ex-wife was remarrying and delightful little Joanna was starting a rebellious phase with her oncoming double digits - it just seemed inopportune. There was also the small niggling voice in the back of Jim’s head whispering it was all so domestic taking shore leaves with your best friend, inseparable companion, life partner.
Jim stood from his perch at the end of the bed, shaking off the words and thoughts, ready to let loose, act his age, forget all about duty, orders and responsibility. When he’d first come up with the plan to take shore leave by storm on his own, his destination seemed obvious. Las Vegas glittered and sparkled with everything that Jim loved and Bones hated, and for that reason he chose the most ostentatious, frilly ridiculous hotel he could find. Caesar's Palace was perfection, right down to the polished floor mosaics and laurel wreathed bath towels.
Slinging his trusty leather jacket on, he gathered up his things, stuffing credit chips and door keycards into his pockets and made his way out into the main part of the hotel. He grinned at the top of the main staircase, looking down upon all the other occupants and tourists, it was time.
Passing a large statue encrusted fountain, Jim idly watched tourists taking pictures in front of it, others gathered around an attractive Andorian hotel employee offering them a bucket, explaining throwing a coin into the fountain could make a wish come true.
Feeling whimsical, he paused for long enough to join the group, dipping his hand into the bucket for his coin when his turn came and smiling widely at the blue skinned female.
“You think I could get lucky?” he asked her with a grin, delighting at the saucy smirk she gave him in reply before moving over to offer coins to a few children.
Jim flipped the silver piece off his thumb and catching it mid air and examining its face, the face of Caesar in profile like everything else in this ridiculous hotel. Jim grinned and turned on his heel mind already whirring over the possibilities of what to tempt the fates with.
Finally he settled on contentedness, to find it here on shore leave, and leave resolved and happy (and maybe a little sore in a good between the legs way but you know, if that’s not too much trouble). He flipped the coin back over his shoulder and turned, unable to detect where it fell but feeling strangely settled about it.
Looking up at the statue component of the fountain at last, he was confronted with an exquisitely carved depiction of Julius Caesar charging into battle, sword raised. Jim let his eyes linger on the craftsmanship in the stone breastplate carvings before ascending to the features of the man himself...and nearly choked on his own tongue.
Brows furrowed, scowl in place, the visage of none other than Bones peered out. Jim stifled a laugh and took a few paces to the right trying to see if it was just a trick of the angle or- nope it was a fairly accurate representation.
Grinning he couldn’t resist the temptation to snap a picture with his PADD, sending it off to Bones before he could second guess himself with a simple something you forgot to tell me about? as the subject line.
With a last look at the fountain he made his way back on course, heading into the dimly lit casino, letting the noise of the murmuring people and the dinging of slots buff away all his woes.
--
He didn’t know how long he spent there, losing and winning, numbers washing in and out of his credit chip like the tides. The lack of windows or any natural lighting at all made telling time difficult, and that was the point, the only reason he jerked out of his own gambling daze was a trill from his inner jacket pocket that alerted him to a new message. Reaching for it out of habit, the dealer for the roulette table he stood by gave him a sharp look and promptly ejected him from the game. No electronic devices allowed for use while playing at the tables.
Stumbling towards the light of the exit he fished his PADD from his pocket and flipped it on.
No? Where the hell are you?
Bones had replied without even acknowledging the similarities between himself and the statue, weird. Jim scrolled back and looked at the image again, but it was unmistakable in the pert nose, and stern but still soft mouth...
He made a face to himself, if he was making observations like that he seriously needed distraction and seeing as it was still far too early to have a drink (without a designated buddy to make sure he got back to his room at the end of the night) it was time to hit the pool.
It only took a few minutes to get up to his room for a change of clothes and a towel, and then he was hitting the grand staircase once more.
Something about being completely submerged in water, with the sun beaming down at you, the shrieks of happy children all around just shouted luxury. Maybe not for the average vacation goer but for Jim, after spending five years adrift in the stars it was like heaven.
After a particularly rambunctious game of waterlogged marco polo and far too many canon ball competitions with the other patrons hanging around, he dragged himself out of the pool, shoulders just this side of achey pink. Snagging his bundle of things, he wiped his hands and face of water with his towel before slinging it over one shoulder to dry his hair with one end and his chest with the other.
He brushed his hand over the cord and charm around his neck, pausing for a moment, thinking of Joanna again, all the similar summer time fun they’d had at her grandparent’s house, the kidney shaped pool in the yard keeping them all cool in the muggy heat. They’d even gotten Bones in once or twice, dragging him down in a surprise attack and laughing when he came up sputtering like cat, hair plastered to his face.
He definitely needed that drink now, and was thankful to spot the poolside bar proclaiming service to all, despite lack of sandals or toga. Plunking down in the shade of the bar, he ordered whatever was on tap and studied a coaster, even the hotel logo was starting to look like Bones now.
The cardboard disk spun easily through his fingers while his drink was delivered and he handed over his credit chip. There was something very worrying about this recent attachment. James T. Kirk didn’t need anyone, he’d been on his own for so long the idea that he had somehow gone soft in his spoils of success and friendship made his stomach flip with uneasiness.
He took a long sip from his stein and didn’t look up when another body sidled up beside his at the bar.
“You look troubled for a soldier.”
Jim’s immediate reaction was that of exasperation, another fan or admirer or something who recognized him, but upon second thought...he knew that voice.
He looked up into Bones’ cool gaze, but Bones was never cool with him, never had his hair stuck down like that, and most certainly never dressed like a long dead roman emperor.
“...Bones?” The other man tilted his head in consideration.
“This is a greeting I am unfamiliar with, but, I am unfamiliar with much of this land.” He let his eyes sweep over the glistening pool and linger on the shimmering forcefield high above that kept the dangerous desert UV rays at bay for the most part.
Jim considered the man for a moment and then signaled the bartender, requesting the use of a comm device, phone, PADD, whatever he had. A fairly workable handset was given to him and he warily dialed the McCoy residence, keeping his eyes on his company.
“Hello?” That was definitely Bones, polite, curt, mostly annoyed.
“Hey, Bones, listen, I need you to repeat carefully after me: Platypus, omega, hyperion, vodka.”
“Plata-what? Jim, where are you? Is this another one of your codes? Does this have to do with that picture you sent me because I-” Jim disconnected the call. The stranger had stayed silent and no one could predict a rant to be recorded so...this must all be some elaborate coincidence.
He handed the handset back and turned with a friendly grin.
“Sorry, for a minute I thought you were a practical joke. Jim Kirk.” He held out his hand which was greeted with slow assessment and then a firm grip in return.
“Julius Caesar.”
Jim grinned and looked him over.
“Right, of course.” He knocked upon his breastplate in jest and was surprised to find it relatively solid and cool underhand. The rest of what he wore was also finely made, with attention to detail that Jim didn’t think hotels sprung on for their poolside entertainment.
“I thought the emperor lounged around in a toga?” He gestured to the relatively regular looking roman soldier getup. The only part of his attire that gave away his identity was the crown of golden leaves that adorned his head.
“In omnia paratus.” Caesar rested one hand upon the hilt of his sword and considered Jim while he took another sip of his drink.
“Prepared for all things,” he nodded and shrugged. “Sensible.”
“You speak Latin.” Caesar looked more intrigued, rested his other arm upon the bar top, fingers just brushing Jim’s previously discarded coaster.
“Nah, I speak battle strategy.” He examined the patterning around Caesar’s breastplate and tried to imagine how it might have been forged if it were real.
“So you are as I suspected, a soldier.”
“Yeah, I guess you could call it that.” It was weird, to be talking to Bones, but one who knew nothing about him, who spoke in a strange sort of stage voice and held none of the same worries on his face. At the same time he was strangely familiar, the set of his gaze and the way he moved made Jim think of Pike, of Admiral Archer, of himself. Caesar had all the command and charm of a leader rather than the heart and compassion of a healer.
“What worries you?” Caesar spoke softly pressing even closer into Jim’s space. He smelled of olives and leather. Jim tilted his head back to look up at him properly, opened his mouth to speak but was halted by a hand landing gently upon his cheek.
Caesar’s eyes narrowed as he looked into Jim’s, his thumb stroking the delicate skin under his right eye.
“Your eyes. Blue as the Mediterranean shore at the height of summer. Their depths just as deep, just as troubled. What is the storm that brews to disturb calm waters?”
Jim laughed, casting his eyes downward, unable to shake the tingling feeling working its way down the back of his neck. Caesar was so close his minty breath fanned warmly across the lower half of his face. It reminded Jim of Bones’ mint juleps, the slow easy grin that slipped onto his face after a long day. He looked back up, even the eyes, a calculating hazel, were exactly like Bones’.
“Did you want to continue this conversation somewhere else? Maybe more private?” It was a gamble, but something in Jim’s gut was telling him he needed to do this, it was about time for a leap of faith.
Caesar drew back slightly, hand coming down to rest upon the hilt of his sword, his lips quirked into a slight smirk.
“But of course, lead onward, Jim Kirk.” He bowed his head and extended his arm, waiting for Jim to down the rest of his glass and take the lead.
--
Grapes had never been sexual before.
But watching Caesar carefully pluck each one, rolling it delicately between nimble fingers before popping each one into his mouth to be savored was undeniably erotic.
They’d ended up in the Emperor Suite, evidently Caesar’s domain. They were sprawled over plush golden fainting couches and drinking wine from goblets, in this room it was Jim who looked out of place in his civilian clothing.
Small talk on the way up had been easy, and entertaining, discussing the various statues and characters of mythology and history with a fluidity that came with obvious knowledge. Jim had to give it to the fine people at Caesars, when they hired personnel they went for the best.
Jim nabbed the next grape before Caesar had the chance placing it delicately between his teeth ripe for the taking. And that’s just what he did, pushing himself up to pull Jim close, one hand fisted into his hair repositioning his head to bite at the flesh of the fruit as well as Jim’s lips. They kissed away the taste of sweet grape and wine from each other’s lips
“You never told me what was on your mind,” Caesar said between kisses, hands already exploring the miles of still damp skin beneath Jim’s shirt while Jim tried to work out how the fastenings on Caesar’s armor toggled.
“Does it matter?” he huffed against Caesar’s chin fighting the leather straps tightly cinched under his arms. In the end as Caesar’s hands continued their march, plucking at a nipple here, sliding easily over his flies there, he decided a more direct approach was probably better and pushed the emperor back with a firm shove.
“Let's see how method you are hm?”
Strong thighs underhand, Jim had a small moment of how surreal it was, his companion’s crown knocked slightly askew, eyes dark, lips bitten red. Bones had never looked so good. He blinked hard, not Bones, Caesar, he swallowed hard on the thought.
The pause was enough for Caesar to reclaim the dominant position, tossing his crown aside and loosing his armor with little trouble. He reared up again, shucking the heavy breast plate revealing a far more functional tunic of deep red, but instead of making Caesar seem smaller, it only accentuated the strong build of his body.
“Holy shit.” He didn’t really know what he was thinking any more, Bones, Caesar, all that mattered was tasting as much bronze skin and figuring a way to wriggle out of his own pants as he could as fast as he could.
Caesar’s neck tasted like how Jim imagined the Mediterranean would, sea water and sex. He sucked a mark into the under side of his jaw and hissed as they jostled together, hips grinding misaligned. Pants half open and finally finally shoved down his thighs just enough to free his cock, Jim finally got that answer to his question of what was under Caesar’s tunic. Pressed against his balls it was a little unmistakable, apparently under that armor things got a little breezy.
But then there we no more thoughts about historical accuracy of undergarments or lack there of, just the tingling friction of adjustment, the heat of another’s body so close, lips on his again. He groaned and bucked, frottage had never been his favourite but right now, it was exactly perfect, hurried and just this side of painful, wedged into the back of the couch.
Their cocks finally slipped together, sensitive undersides kissing for just a moment. Caesar moaned into his mouth, licking the backs of his teeth, and thrusting forward again. Jim scrabbled for purchase, hands resting on shoulders, hips, thighs, finally with a frustrated grunt worming between their bodies to capture them both in a firm grasp.
It was his turn to moan, the combination of the encircling warmth of his hand and Caesars continued movement was shoving him swiftly over the edge. It took only a little more, the fleeting swipe of his thumb over the heads of their cocks and Caesar panting in his ear.
“J-Jim-” Teeth grazed along his pulse as he came, hips snapping hard and Jim was squeezing his eyes shut and following him.
“Bones!”
He panted raggedly in the aftermath, hand sticky-wet sandwiched between them, trying to gather his thoughts as Caesar pulled back lethargically. He swiped a napkin from the platter with the grapes and tucked it into Jim’s hand, his tunic already having fallen back into place.
“I think we’ve come to the source of your troubles.” He said quietly, looking away as Jim wiped his hand and tucked himself back into his pants. It wasn’t exactly any sort of seriously romantic night but Jim knew calling out the wrong name even during a one night stand was a little tacky.
“Listen I didn’t-”
“It matters not to me, Jim.” Caesar didn’t look hurt, merely satisfied, resolved. “You must come to your own resolution.” He reached out then, and gently straightened the charm on the cord around his neck, pressing it back into his chest firmly.
“Come, retire with me.” He held out his hand then palm up, and before Jim could protest a wave of sudden lethargy made him agree, placing his hand in Caesars and letting himself be towed to the large bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
--
Jim woke suddenly. He was in his bed in his room, no sign of Caesar or that anything was wrong. All of his things were still where he left them, the chronometer displayed it was a perfectly normal brand new day. He didn’t remember much after -- Jim scrubbed a hand over his face, he didn’t think he’d had enough to drink to be unable to remember stumbling back to his own room after semi-anonymous sex.
And he’d called out Bones’ name. He fell back into the bed and rolled, groaning into his pillow. What a disaster.
But.
He pulled his head up, why had he called out Bones? Well there was the obvious striking similarity between the doctor and the emperor, but then again, if Jim was so not attracted to his best friend, why hadn’t any of it felt weird at all? Why in fact had it felt good, better than good, right?
He dropped his head back into his pillow. So he’s in love with his best friend, and apparently has been for quite a while. And judging by the way Bones has been putting up with him for this long, giving him concerned looks when he said he wanted to take his shore leave alone and give him breathing room, asking again and again if he was sure this was what he wanted - he knew about it already.
He shoved his face further into his pillow. For a genius he sure did have a thick head sometimes. He wallowed a little more, going over and over every angle of the past few days, his uncomfortable ache whenever he thought about Bones and Joanna doing things together as a family- without him. It was all so sickeningly obvious.
When he finally did pull himself out of bed there was no looking back, he packed up the few things he’d brought with him and headed for the stairs. Once in the lobby he approached the sprawling front desk to cancel his remaining reservations and book a shuttle ride immediately.
The man behind the desk was polite about Jim’s requests and even offered a complaints form if he was unhappy with his stay but Jim didn’t have anything to complain about - no he only had one thing left to resolve.
“I’d also like to send, uh, a gift basket? More grapes? Something to the uh actor you’ve hired to play Caesar and wander around the place.” He tapped his credit chip against the marble counter and watched the confusion knit into the concierge’s eyebrows.
“Actor? I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean, Sir.” That was awkward, some random wealthy, incredibly good looking man just dressed up in Caesar togs and chatting up guests because he could.
“Well, whoever he was, he was staying in the Emperor Suite so you could just send it there.”
The confusion again but this time mixed with a little good-natured wariness, he was clearly starting to believe Jim was a little drunk.
“I’m sorry, Sir, we don’t have an ‘Emperor Suite’.”
Jim paused, considering. Could it all have been some kind of ...drunken hallucination? The last thing he remembered before Caesar popped up was going to the bar...
He grinned at the man and shrugged.
“No worries man, thanks for everything.”
He gave a little salute and hitched his bag a little more comfortably over his shoulder and made his way outside to the taxi stand passing the fountain of Caesar as he went.
--
It was only when he had a moment to himself on the hour long shuttle that he began to try and figure out the puzzle that was his night. If it had all been some kind of epiphany of a dream what on earth had he been drinking. Or perhaps it was a mix of the alcohol, the sun, and the exertion of playing in the pool. That seemed somewhat likely, but based on previous nights of debauchery he’d acquired in his past it seemed a little sketchy.
Eventually he wrote it off as whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, wondering if perhaps the city had installed some kind of perception filters to enhance tourists experiences, and reached for his bag. He had a novel stashed away somewhere he was sure, and if not he could always go through a bit of the paperwork waiting for him. As he searched for his PADD however his hand groped something foreign, cool, and textured. With a little work out came a golden crown of laurel, the crown Caesar had been wearing.
Jim swallowed, if it was all in his head...maybe last night had been one part truth, one part drunken stupor. It wouldn’t be the first time he found Mardi Gras beads in his underwear or a lamp shade from a dorm across academy campus in his bed.
But it was still fishy.
--
Bones’ house was small, practical, and a little run down. It was perfect as far as Jim was concerned and walking up the drive, felt a little too much like coming home. It was exciting and terrifying all wrapped up into one wriggling ball located somewhere under his sternum.
Mounting the porch and ringing the bell was one thing, it was another not to turn tail and sprint away as he waited a few long moments before enthusiastic footsteps were pounding towards him and the door was thrown back.
Jo looked... well, like she always did. A little taller than when he’d last seen her, but still with mussed dark brown hair and a determined look on her face like she was ready to take on the world, and the world was gonna walk away crying.
“Jim!” she exclaimed, eyebrows flying high for just a moment before his arms were full of almost ten-year-old.
“Joanna!” He swung her up, making her squeal before setting her back down again.
“Why’re you here? Daddy said you were in Las Vegas.”
“I was, but I finished what I needed to do there and needed to talk to your dad for a bit.”
“Ah,” she nodded in a very bored way. Adults talking was always boring. “Well I hope you can stay!”
“Me too kiddo, oh-” He paused and reached into his bag, pulling out the golden crown. “I brought you something. I crown thee, Empress Jo.” He set it gently upon her head, smothering a snicker as it slipped a little too low and rested on her ears, making them bend forward comically.
“Cool!” She touched it gently with her fingertips before bellowing back over her shoulder for her father and darting back inside, no doubt to see how it looked.
Jim stood awkwardly in the threshold for a moment gripping the strap of his bag, until a shadow from the direction of the kitchen revealed itself to be Bones.
“Jim?” Bones was wiping his hands on a dishtowel tossed over his shoulder. It was utterly...domestic, everything a few days ago that Jim would have scoffed at and turned stubbornly away from.
“Hey.” He offered a weak smile.
“What’re you doin’ here?” Bones’ accent was just as pronounced as every other home-grown Georgian, it always was when he came back for a visit. Jim swallowed on how much he enjoyed it.
“Vegas wasn’t all that interesting.”
One dark eyebrow rose as he came further down the hall, closing the door behind Jim instead of just bitching at him for letting all the cool air out.
“And Atlanta has something better?” he asked quietly, looking at him eye to eye, the narrow hall filled with girl’s shoes and tension and them. Jim merely rocked on his heels and grinned.
“Yeah, there is.”
Author: witblogi
Pairing: Jim Kirk/Julius Caesar
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~4200
Prompt: One character wishes on a star/coin in a fountain and Character 2 is the answer to that wish.
Summary: Shore Leave alone in Sin City isn't all it's cracked up to be
Warnings: ahh, frottage, historically inaccurate undergarments, Jim in denial
Author’s Notes: This fix very nearly didn't make it. 100% props to wyntreaurora for cheering it on until the very end when I was ready to kick it and leave it for dead.
The metal shone in the sunlight. The small crudely made Enterprise silhouette charm was attached to a length of cord, clumsily but lovingly knotted. On the back was the simple and roughly hewn letters J + J.
Jim swept the pad of his thumb over them and smiled fondly, tucking the charm back into his shirt. Jim and Joanna, J + J. Last shore leave had found Jim in good fortune, soaking up the oppressive heat of Atlanta, Georgia with the McCoy family of two. He would have done the same this leave as well, but there were more variables to the equation. Bones’ ex-wife was remarrying and delightful little Joanna was starting a rebellious phase with her oncoming double digits - it just seemed inopportune. There was also the small niggling voice in the back of Jim’s head whispering it was all so domestic taking shore leaves with your best friend, inseparable companion, life partner.
Jim stood from his perch at the end of the bed, shaking off the words and thoughts, ready to let loose, act his age, forget all about duty, orders and responsibility. When he’d first come up with the plan to take shore leave by storm on his own, his destination seemed obvious. Las Vegas glittered and sparkled with everything that Jim loved and Bones hated, and for that reason he chose the most ostentatious, frilly ridiculous hotel he could find. Caesar's Palace was perfection, right down to the polished floor mosaics and laurel wreathed bath towels.
Slinging his trusty leather jacket on, he gathered up his things, stuffing credit chips and door keycards into his pockets and made his way out into the main part of the hotel. He grinned at the top of the main staircase, looking down upon all the other occupants and tourists, it was time.
Passing a large statue encrusted fountain, Jim idly watched tourists taking pictures in front of it, others gathered around an attractive Andorian hotel employee offering them a bucket, explaining throwing a coin into the fountain could make a wish come true.
Feeling whimsical, he paused for long enough to join the group, dipping his hand into the bucket for his coin when his turn came and smiling widely at the blue skinned female.
“You think I could get lucky?” he asked her with a grin, delighting at the saucy smirk she gave him in reply before moving over to offer coins to a few children.
Jim flipped the silver piece off his thumb and catching it mid air and examining its face, the face of Caesar in profile like everything else in this ridiculous hotel. Jim grinned and turned on his heel mind already whirring over the possibilities of what to tempt the fates with.
Finally he settled on contentedness, to find it here on shore leave, and leave resolved and happy (and maybe a little sore in a good between the legs way but you know, if that’s not too much trouble). He flipped the coin back over his shoulder and turned, unable to detect where it fell but feeling strangely settled about it.
Looking up at the statue component of the fountain at last, he was confronted with an exquisitely carved depiction of Julius Caesar charging into battle, sword raised. Jim let his eyes linger on the craftsmanship in the stone breastplate carvings before ascending to the features of the man himself...and nearly choked on his own tongue.
Brows furrowed, scowl in place, the visage of none other than Bones peered out. Jim stifled a laugh and took a few paces to the right trying to see if it was just a trick of the angle or- nope it was a fairly accurate representation.
Grinning he couldn’t resist the temptation to snap a picture with his PADD, sending it off to Bones before he could second guess himself with a simple something you forgot to tell me about? as the subject line.
With a last look at the fountain he made his way back on course, heading into the dimly lit casino, letting the noise of the murmuring people and the dinging of slots buff away all his woes.
--
He didn’t know how long he spent there, losing and winning, numbers washing in and out of his credit chip like the tides. The lack of windows or any natural lighting at all made telling time difficult, and that was the point, the only reason he jerked out of his own gambling daze was a trill from his inner jacket pocket that alerted him to a new message. Reaching for it out of habit, the dealer for the roulette table he stood by gave him a sharp look and promptly ejected him from the game. No electronic devices allowed for use while playing at the tables.
Stumbling towards the light of the exit he fished his PADD from his pocket and flipped it on.
No? Where the hell are you?
Bones had replied without even acknowledging the similarities between himself and the statue, weird. Jim scrolled back and looked at the image again, but it was unmistakable in the pert nose, and stern but still soft mouth...
He made a face to himself, if he was making observations like that he seriously needed distraction and seeing as it was still far too early to have a drink (without a designated buddy to make sure he got back to his room at the end of the night) it was time to hit the pool.
It only took a few minutes to get up to his room for a change of clothes and a towel, and then he was hitting the grand staircase once more.
Something about being completely submerged in water, with the sun beaming down at you, the shrieks of happy children all around just shouted luxury. Maybe not for the average vacation goer but for Jim, after spending five years adrift in the stars it was like heaven.
After a particularly rambunctious game of waterlogged marco polo and far too many canon ball competitions with the other patrons hanging around, he dragged himself out of the pool, shoulders just this side of achey pink. Snagging his bundle of things, he wiped his hands and face of water with his towel before slinging it over one shoulder to dry his hair with one end and his chest with the other.
He brushed his hand over the cord and charm around his neck, pausing for a moment, thinking of Joanna again, all the similar summer time fun they’d had at her grandparent’s house, the kidney shaped pool in the yard keeping them all cool in the muggy heat. They’d even gotten Bones in once or twice, dragging him down in a surprise attack and laughing when he came up sputtering like cat, hair plastered to his face.
He definitely needed that drink now, and was thankful to spot the poolside bar proclaiming service to all, despite lack of sandals or toga. Plunking down in the shade of the bar, he ordered whatever was on tap and studied a coaster, even the hotel logo was starting to look like Bones now.
The cardboard disk spun easily through his fingers while his drink was delivered and he handed over his credit chip. There was something very worrying about this recent attachment. James T. Kirk didn’t need anyone, he’d been on his own for so long the idea that he had somehow gone soft in his spoils of success and friendship made his stomach flip with uneasiness.
He took a long sip from his stein and didn’t look up when another body sidled up beside his at the bar.
“You look troubled for a soldier.”
Jim’s immediate reaction was that of exasperation, another fan or admirer or something who recognized him, but upon second thought...he knew that voice.
He looked up into Bones’ cool gaze, but Bones was never cool with him, never had his hair stuck down like that, and most certainly never dressed like a long dead roman emperor.
“...Bones?” The other man tilted his head in consideration.
“This is a greeting I am unfamiliar with, but, I am unfamiliar with much of this land.” He let his eyes sweep over the glistening pool and linger on the shimmering forcefield high above that kept the dangerous desert UV rays at bay for the most part.
Jim considered the man for a moment and then signaled the bartender, requesting the use of a comm device, phone, PADD, whatever he had. A fairly workable handset was given to him and he warily dialed the McCoy residence, keeping his eyes on his company.
“Hello?” That was definitely Bones, polite, curt, mostly annoyed.
“Hey, Bones, listen, I need you to repeat carefully after me: Platypus, omega, hyperion, vodka.”
“Plata-what? Jim, where are you? Is this another one of your codes? Does this have to do with that picture you sent me because I-” Jim disconnected the call. The stranger had stayed silent and no one could predict a rant to be recorded so...this must all be some elaborate coincidence.
He handed the handset back and turned with a friendly grin.
“Sorry, for a minute I thought you were a practical joke. Jim Kirk.” He held out his hand which was greeted with slow assessment and then a firm grip in return.
“Julius Caesar.”
Jim grinned and looked him over.
“Right, of course.” He knocked upon his breastplate in jest and was surprised to find it relatively solid and cool underhand. The rest of what he wore was also finely made, with attention to detail that Jim didn’t think hotels sprung on for their poolside entertainment.
“I thought the emperor lounged around in a toga?” He gestured to the relatively regular looking roman soldier getup. The only part of his attire that gave away his identity was the crown of golden leaves that adorned his head.
“In omnia paratus.” Caesar rested one hand upon the hilt of his sword and considered Jim while he took another sip of his drink.
“Prepared for all things,” he nodded and shrugged. “Sensible.”
“You speak Latin.” Caesar looked more intrigued, rested his other arm upon the bar top, fingers just brushing Jim’s previously discarded coaster.
“Nah, I speak battle strategy.” He examined the patterning around Caesar’s breastplate and tried to imagine how it might have been forged if it were real.
“So you are as I suspected, a soldier.”
“Yeah, I guess you could call it that.” It was weird, to be talking to Bones, but one who knew nothing about him, who spoke in a strange sort of stage voice and held none of the same worries on his face. At the same time he was strangely familiar, the set of his gaze and the way he moved made Jim think of Pike, of Admiral Archer, of himself. Caesar had all the command and charm of a leader rather than the heart and compassion of a healer.
“What worries you?” Caesar spoke softly pressing even closer into Jim’s space. He smelled of olives and leather. Jim tilted his head back to look up at him properly, opened his mouth to speak but was halted by a hand landing gently upon his cheek.
Caesar’s eyes narrowed as he looked into Jim’s, his thumb stroking the delicate skin under his right eye.
“Your eyes. Blue as the Mediterranean shore at the height of summer. Their depths just as deep, just as troubled. What is the storm that brews to disturb calm waters?”
Jim laughed, casting his eyes downward, unable to shake the tingling feeling working its way down the back of his neck. Caesar was so close his minty breath fanned warmly across the lower half of his face. It reminded Jim of Bones’ mint juleps, the slow easy grin that slipped onto his face after a long day. He looked back up, even the eyes, a calculating hazel, were exactly like Bones’.
“Did you want to continue this conversation somewhere else? Maybe more private?” It was a gamble, but something in Jim’s gut was telling him he needed to do this, it was about time for a leap of faith.
Caesar drew back slightly, hand coming down to rest upon the hilt of his sword, his lips quirked into a slight smirk.
“But of course, lead onward, Jim Kirk.” He bowed his head and extended his arm, waiting for Jim to down the rest of his glass and take the lead.
--
Grapes had never been sexual before.
But watching Caesar carefully pluck each one, rolling it delicately between nimble fingers before popping each one into his mouth to be savored was undeniably erotic.
They’d ended up in the Emperor Suite, evidently Caesar’s domain. They were sprawled over plush golden fainting couches and drinking wine from goblets, in this room it was Jim who looked out of place in his civilian clothing.
Small talk on the way up had been easy, and entertaining, discussing the various statues and characters of mythology and history with a fluidity that came with obvious knowledge. Jim had to give it to the fine people at Caesars, when they hired personnel they went for the best.
Jim nabbed the next grape before Caesar had the chance placing it delicately between his teeth ripe for the taking. And that’s just what he did, pushing himself up to pull Jim close, one hand fisted into his hair repositioning his head to bite at the flesh of the fruit as well as Jim’s lips. They kissed away the taste of sweet grape and wine from each other’s lips
“You never told me what was on your mind,” Caesar said between kisses, hands already exploring the miles of still damp skin beneath Jim’s shirt while Jim tried to work out how the fastenings on Caesar’s armor toggled.
“Does it matter?” he huffed against Caesar’s chin fighting the leather straps tightly cinched under his arms. In the end as Caesar’s hands continued their march, plucking at a nipple here, sliding easily over his flies there, he decided a more direct approach was probably better and pushed the emperor back with a firm shove.
“Let's see how method you are hm?”
Strong thighs underhand, Jim had a small moment of how surreal it was, his companion’s crown knocked slightly askew, eyes dark, lips bitten red. Bones had never looked so good. He blinked hard, not Bones, Caesar, he swallowed hard on the thought.
The pause was enough for Caesar to reclaim the dominant position, tossing his crown aside and loosing his armor with little trouble. He reared up again, shucking the heavy breast plate revealing a far more functional tunic of deep red, but instead of making Caesar seem smaller, it only accentuated the strong build of his body.
“Holy shit.” He didn’t really know what he was thinking any more, Bones, Caesar, all that mattered was tasting as much bronze skin and figuring a way to wriggle out of his own pants as he could as fast as he could.
Caesar’s neck tasted like how Jim imagined the Mediterranean would, sea water and sex. He sucked a mark into the under side of his jaw and hissed as they jostled together, hips grinding misaligned. Pants half open and finally finally shoved down his thighs just enough to free his cock, Jim finally got that answer to his question of what was under Caesar’s tunic. Pressed against his balls it was a little unmistakable, apparently under that armor things got a little breezy.
But then there we no more thoughts about historical accuracy of undergarments or lack there of, just the tingling friction of adjustment, the heat of another’s body so close, lips on his again. He groaned and bucked, frottage had never been his favourite but right now, it was exactly perfect, hurried and just this side of painful, wedged into the back of the couch.
Their cocks finally slipped together, sensitive undersides kissing for just a moment. Caesar moaned into his mouth, licking the backs of his teeth, and thrusting forward again. Jim scrabbled for purchase, hands resting on shoulders, hips, thighs, finally with a frustrated grunt worming between their bodies to capture them both in a firm grasp.
It was his turn to moan, the combination of the encircling warmth of his hand and Caesars continued movement was shoving him swiftly over the edge. It took only a little more, the fleeting swipe of his thumb over the heads of their cocks and Caesar panting in his ear.
“J-Jim-” Teeth grazed along his pulse as he came, hips snapping hard and Jim was squeezing his eyes shut and following him.
“Bones!”
He panted raggedly in the aftermath, hand sticky-wet sandwiched between them, trying to gather his thoughts as Caesar pulled back lethargically. He swiped a napkin from the platter with the grapes and tucked it into Jim’s hand, his tunic already having fallen back into place.
“I think we’ve come to the source of your troubles.” He said quietly, looking away as Jim wiped his hand and tucked himself back into his pants. It wasn’t exactly any sort of seriously romantic night but Jim knew calling out the wrong name even during a one night stand was a little tacky.
“Listen I didn’t-”
“It matters not to me, Jim.” Caesar didn’t look hurt, merely satisfied, resolved. “You must come to your own resolution.” He reached out then, and gently straightened the charm on the cord around his neck, pressing it back into his chest firmly.
“Come, retire with me.” He held out his hand then palm up, and before Jim could protest a wave of sudden lethargy made him agree, placing his hand in Caesars and letting himself be towed to the large bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
--
Jim woke suddenly. He was in his bed in his room, no sign of Caesar or that anything was wrong. All of his things were still where he left them, the chronometer displayed it was a perfectly normal brand new day. He didn’t remember much after -- Jim scrubbed a hand over his face, he didn’t think he’d had enough to drink to be unable to remember stumbling back to his own room after semi-anonymous sex.
And he’d called out Bones’ name. He fell back into the bed and rolled, groaning into his pillow. What a disaster.
But.
He pulled his head up, why had he called out Bones? Well there was the obvious striking similarity between the doctor and the emperor, but then again, if Jim was so not attracted to his best friend, why hadn’t any of it felt weird at all? Why in fact had it felt good, better than good, right?
He dropped his head back into his pillow. So he’s in love with his best friend, and apparently has been for quite a while. And judging by the way Bones has been putting up with him for this long, giving him concerned looks when he said he wanted to take his shore leave alone and give him breathing room, asking again and again if he was sure this was what he wanted - he knew about it already.
He shoved his face further into his pillow. For a genius he sure did have a thick head sometimes. He wallowed a little more, going over and over every angle of the past few days, his uncomfortable ache whenever he thought about Bones and Joanna doing things together as a family- without him. It was all so sickeningly obvious.
When he finally did pull himself out of bed there was no looking back, he packed up the few things he’d brought with him and headed for the stairs. Once in the lobby he approached the sprawling front desk to cancel his remaining reservations and book a shuttle ride immediately.
The man behind the desk was polite about Jim’s requests and even offered a complaints form if he was unhappy with his stay but Jim didn’t have anything to complain about - no he only had one thing left to resolve.
“I’d also like to send, uh, a gift basket? More grapes? Something to the uh actor you’ve hired to play Caesar and wander around the place.” He tapped his credit chip against the marble counter and watched the confusion knit into the concierge’s eyebrows.
“Actor? I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean, Sir.” That was awkward, some random wealthy, incredibly good looking man just dressed up in Caesar togs and chatting up guests because he could.
“Well, whoever he was, he was staying in the Emperor Suite so you could just send it there.”
The confusion again but this time mixed with a little good-natured wariness, he was clearly starting to believe Jim was a little drunk.
“I’m sorry, Sir, we don’t have an ‘Emperor Suite’.”
Jim paused, considering. Could it all have been some kind of ...drunken hallucination? The last thing he remembered before Caesar popped up was going to the bar...
He grinned at the man and shrugged.
“No worries man, thanks for everything.”
He gave a little salute and hitched his bag a little more comfortably over his shoulder and made his way outside to the taxi stand passing the fountain of Caesar as he went.
--
It was only when he had a moment to himself on the hour long shuttle that he began to try and figure out the puzzle that was his night. If it had all been some kind of epiphany of a dream what on earth had he been drinking. Or perhaps it was a mix of the alcohol, the sun, and the exertion of playing in the pool. That seemed somewhat likely, but based on previous nights of debauchery he’d acquired in his past it seemed a little sketchy.
Eventually he wrote it off as whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, wondering if perhaps the city had installed some kind of perception filters to enhance tourists experiences, and reached for his bag. He had a novel stashed away somewhere he was sure, and if not he could always go through a bit of the paperwork waiting for him. As he searched for his PADD however his hand groped something foreign, cool, and textured. With a little work out came a golden crown of laurel, the crown Caesar had been wearing.
Jim swallowed, if it was all in his head...maybe last night had been one part truth, one part drunken stupor. It wouldn’t be the first time he found Mardi Gras beads in his underwear or a lamp shade from a dorm across academy campus in his bed.
But it was still fishy.
--
Bones’ house was small, practical, and a little run down. It was perfect as far as Jim was concerned and walking up the drive, felt a little too much like coming home. It was exciting and terrifying all wrapped up into one wriggling ball located somewhere under his sternum.
Mounting the porch and ringing the bell was one thing, it was another not to turn tail and sprint away as he waited a few long moments before enthusiastic footsteps were pounding towards him and the door was thrown back.
Jo looked... well, like she always did. A little taller than when he’d last seen her, but still with mussed dark brown hair and a determined look on her face like she was ready to take on the world, and the world was gonna walk away crying.
“Jim!” she exclaimed, eyebrows flying high for just a moment before his arms were full of almost ten-year-old.
“Joanna!” He swung her up, making her squeal before setting her back down again.
“Why’re you here? Daddy said you were in Las Vegas.”
“I was, but I finished what I needed to do there and needed to talk to your dad for a bit.”
“Ah,” she nodded in a very bored way. Adults talking was always boring. “Well I hope you can stay!”
“Me too kiddo, oh-” He paused and reached into his bag, pulling out the golden crown. “I brought you something. I crown thee, Empress Jo.” He set it gently upon her head, smothering a snicker as it slipped a little too low and rested on her ears, making them bend forward comically.
“Cool!” She touched it gently with her fingertips before bellowing back over her shoulder for her father and darting back inside, no doubt to see how it looked.
Jim stood awkwardly in the threshold for a moment gripping the strap of his bag, until a shadow from the direction of the kitchen revealed itself to be Bones.
“Jim?” Bones was wiping his hands on a dishtowel tossed over his shoulder. It was utterly...domestic, everything a few days ago that Jim would have scoffed at and turned stubbornly away from.
“Hey.” He offered a weak smile.
“What’re you doin’ here?” Bones’ accent was just as pronounced as every other home-grown Georgian, it always was when he came back for a visit. Jim swallowed on how much he enjoyed it.
“Vegas wasn’t all that interesting.”
One dark eyebrow rose as he came further down the hall, closing the door behind Jim instead of just bitching at him for letting all the cool air out.
“And Atlanta has something better?” he asked quietly, looking at him eye to eye, the narrow hall filled with girl’s shoes and tension and them. Jim merely rocked on his heels and grinned.
“Yeah, there is.”