Mood Killer (Kirk/McCoy NC-17)

  • Dec. 31st, 2010 at 5:25 PM
emiliglia: (kirk/mccoy-4)
Title: Mood Killer
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Word Count: 2,885
Summary: This is my valiant attempt at combining this post at [ profile] jim_and_bones with the [ profile] hc_bingo prompt broken bones, and all for [ profile] siluria's birthday, too! - Five times Jim tries to get Bones to have sex with him while sick or injured and one time he succeeds.


Leonard's starting to question his priorities at his decision to get Jim changed out of his cadet reds before dragging him to sickbay for medical treatment.

He's helped Jim take his clothes off plenty of times, but hadn't exactly envisioned circumstances where he'd be helping put them back on. Jim got a rush of vertigo and nausea when he had bent over to pull his boots on and is now seated as they act out some bizarre parody of Cinderella.

"Hey, Bones," Jim says, voice dry but his face is covered with a sheen of sweat as he waggles his eyebrows in a manner that would be suggestive if he hadn't been dry heaving a few moments ago. "While you're down there…"

"Is there really some part of that brain of yours that thinks I'd be willing to blow you right now?"

"Can't blame a guy for trying."


With Pike finally stable and resting in the Enterprise's secondary sickbay, Leonard takes himself off duty for some hard earned sleep. He hasn't seen his quarters in days. Naps on the cot in the CMO's office - his office - have become common practice; there were just too many who needed help and not enough medical staff available to do more than triage, to help the worst and give those with minor injuries something to help them get by. Leonard could see that it wasn't helping crew morale, most of them needing some reassurance more than the bandage they were given, but it's the best they can do until the more critical cases have been taken care of.

The lights are on low when Leonard gets to his quarters, and Jim's there, a lump on the bed curled in on himself. Leonard would be relieved that at least one of them is taking care of themselves if it weren't for the dark circles he can make out under Jim's eyes from the entrance. Jim looks at him once the door hisses shut behind Leonard, his eyes too sharp for him to have been asleep at all.

Leonard wordlessly strips down to his underwear, slipping into the warm cocoon of blankets alongside Jim, resting a hand in the middle of Jim's chest, deciding that he's allowed this moment of selfishness as he basks in the knowledge that Jim is here and alive.

"Bones," Jim says with a sigh before turning to capture Leonard's mouth in a hungry kiss.

Leonard knows they're acting on a combination of leftover adrenaline and the urge to do something life-affirming, but he can't bring himself to give a damn about physiology and psychology when Jim's hands are just as eager as his lips.

"You're over-dressed," Leonard growls against the skin of Jim's neck, grazing his teeth over the spot he'd been sucking on before gripping the bottom hem of Jim's undershirt in his fingers, pulling back enough to yank it upward.

The resulting hitch in Jim's breath is for all the wrong reasons.

"Lights on full," Leonard commands, the brightness revealing mottled bruising over both sides of Jim's ribcage. "You weren't treated for these." There's no question in his voice as he palpates Jim's torso, feeling for broken bones or distended organs but only getting small grunts of pain from the contusions. "When did you get these?"

Jim shrugs, looking a little ridiculous with one arm freed from his shirt but the other and his head still in it. "Either when Spock threw me into the console on the bridge, when I got kicked by a pissed off Romulan from the future, or maybe some combination of the two. I wasn't exactly trying to make a mental catalogue at the time."

Leonard scowls at Jim's insouciance, but he doesn't snap back at him. He knows these injuries would've been added to the list of low priority bumps and scrapes that most of the crew has seem to have endured, but Jim had also told Leonard that the bruising on his neck had been his worst injury sustained, and while that's still true, Leonard can't help but run through the what ifs of punctured lungs and internal bleeding.

"Where are you going?" Jim asks when Leonard rises from the bed.

"I should have a dermal regenerator in here somewhere. Don't know how you expected to get any sleep when it hurts just to lie down."

"Sleep wasn't exactly what I was going for, there," Jim mutters to himself, yelping in a combination of surprise and pain when Leonard returns with the regen device and pulls Jim's shirt the rest of the way off.

"Yeah, well, it's what you're going to be getting when I'm done with you."


Jim's staring at him through the window, a finger held to his mouth in a way that Leonard tends to see when Jim thinks he's come up with a brilliant plan. "If you can't come in here to keep me company, you could at least keep me entertained - maybe put on a little show?" There's no mistaking the devious glint in Jim's eyes.

Leonard, outside the decontamination chamber, is unmovable. "I'm not singing and dancing for you, Jim."

Jim laughs and leans forward. "Not the kind of show I had in mind." The smile Jim gives Leonard has gotten planetary leaders to buy into the idea of the Federation, but Leonard's had more years of exposure to build up an immunity. "You don't want to grant a dying man his last wish?"

"If there's one in there with you, I'll see what I can do." Leonard looks at the timer above the window, counting down the seconds until Jim can be released back into the ship. "I'll see you in three hours. Maybe you could spend that time mulling over how going swimming on a planet with unknown waterborne alien pathogens is a bad idea."

Leonard leaves before Jim has a chance to respond.


He'd never thought things could go so wrong so quickly.

It was just supposed to be an exploratory mission on a previously uncharted planet with no sentient life that the scanners could detect. They'd either come out of the trees or, for all Leonard could tell, were the goddamn trees, and the next thing he knew half the away team is dead and Jim's slowly bleeding out because of an overgrown splinter sticking out of his leg.

And then, of course, came the ion storm that ended the emergency beam out before Leonard could even fully give the order.

It's well after dark, now, and the only thing they have going for them is the campfire that Chekov had managed to get going using his phaser and a power cell. The lifeforms haven't come back to bother them again, yet, but Leonard can't keep himself from getting twitchy at every crunch of underbrush in the forest around them.

He tries not to think about the countdown for how much time he has left before there's nothing he can do to help Jim anymore, even if they get back on the Enterprise. It doesn't help that Leonard can feel how cold Jim's hand is, can see how pale his face is in the light from the fire.

"You look so fuckable when you're worried," Jim comments, forcing a smile. "If you didn't look so hot, maybe I wouldn't keep getting into these situations."

Leonard frowns, ignoring the way Jim's eyes seem to be focused on the spot where Leonard's eyebrows are drawn together, the spot above his nose that Jim kisses softly every morning. "Nice of you to validate my suspicions that it's all intentional."

"Then the way you get all drawly when you're pissed… It happens when you're turned on, too, Bones."

"I swear to god, Jim, you need to stop that train of thought. Your body can't handle a further drop in blood pressure, and if you make any suggestive comments about what your body can handle, I will yank that stick out so you can bleed to death faster and put an end to both of our suffering."

Jim actually listens for once and goes quiet, and Leonard's grateful for all of five minutes before he starts to feel like an asshole because he knows that making light of a situation is one of Jim's defense mechanisms just as much as Jim knows that getting cranky is Leonard's.

He squeezes Jim's hand, and it pains Leonard to feel how weak Jim is when he returns the gesture, but then the comm crackles to life.


"I think you gave me the wrong one," Jim says, eyeing the hypospray dubiously.

Leonard raises his eyebrows expectantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "And you earned your medical degree where?"

"I just thought that the medicine for the Muschulian flu would make me feel less phlegmy, not… horny."

Scanning Jim with a tricorder, Leonard wonders why he can't just ever react normally to medication. Although based on the readings he's getting, it's probably a good thing that Jim's been on bed rest in their quarters instead of stuck in sickbay. "Huh."

Jim shifts uncomfortably, his face flushing for an entirely different reason than the virus trying to replicate in his bloodstream. "Huh!? Really, Bones, that's all you've got to say? What am I supposed to do?" His erection has become a very obvious bulge in his sweatpants.

As a doctor, Leonard knows he should really be concerned about this side effect and if it's going to get better or worse with time. This is very much a time, though, when Leonard's having a hard time differentiating their working and personal relationships. "I don't know. Maybe ride it out?"

"Ride it out," Jim repeats slowly, rolling the words across his tongue as he starts to lightly touch himself through his pants. There's a glint in his eye before Leonard finds himself flat on his back on the bed, Jim sucking at his neck while grinding himself against Leonard's thigh.

Leonard lays his head back and closes his eyes, savoring the feel of Jim's body pressed against his own, one hand pushing up Leonard's shirt to expose his stomach and chest while the other strokes teasing, glancing touches along his cock.

"Jim," Leonard moans when Jim finally takes him fully in hand, but to Leonard's frustration, he doesn't do anything. Leonard rocks his hips a little, seeking the friction and trying to give Jim a hint in case he's forgotten what he's supposed to do next.

Still nothing.

"Jim, what the hell?" Leonard starts, propping himself up on his elbows, only to take in the sight of Jim sound asleep and exhaling against Leonard's belly button. "Dammit, Jim."


Leonard thinks he deserves an award or at least a commendation from the admiralty for how he manages to contain himself until they've been beamed back aboard the ship. He takes some satisfaction from Jim's yelp of pain when Leonard moves Jim's right leg - his very broken right leg - into a better position to cut off his pants with a laser scalpel.

"Cliff diving. Of all the activities Risa has to offer, you pick cliff diving. Because, what? There aren't enough ways you can die on a normal day that you have to risk your fool ass during shore leave, too?" Leonard pulls the fabric aside, visually surveying the damage. No compound fractures, but he's going to have to keep Jim in sickbay at least overnight to keep an eye out for compartment syndrome. The biobed monitor lists out the injuries. "Significant stress fractures to the tarsals and tibia. Did they tell you to land with your legs locked straight?"

Jim's being petulant, making a point of staring through Leonard instead of at him. Leonard's already heard what happened from the dive master, and he knows wind gusts aren't exactly Jim's fault, but Leonard's still yet to understand why Jim keeps putting himself in these situations.

"There's safer ways to get an adrenaline rush if that's what you're after," Leonard says, crossing the room to rummage through some cabinets for a couple osteogenic stimulators. He straps one to the center of Jim's shin, the other to his ankle. Leonard won't even try to take Jim's shoe off until the treatment is at least halfway done. "I do actually care about what happens to you, you know."

Jim's expression softens at that. "I know, but don't make me sound like some amped up thrill seeker. I want to live, Bones, and even if it hurts now, I won't forget how incredible the coast looked from that height." If Leonard heard these words coming from anyone else, he would think they were full of shit, but Jim's face is nothing but open and honest. "All the worthwhile things in life come with the risk of pain, right?"

"Oh, yeah? Who told you that?"

"I think I got it in a fortune cookie once," Jim says with a wry smile. He reaches out, taking Leonard's hand and drawing him in close to kiss him. "While on the topic of new experiences," Jim begins against the corner of Leonard's mouth, "I can't help but notice that your entire staff is missing. We can't waste this opportunity."

Leonard arches an eyebrow. "I think you're going into shock."

"I don't feel that bad. The Risan doctor hit me with something before you dragged me out of the hospital." Jim grabs his wrist before Leonard can get his hands on the nearby tricorder. "I think we'd definitely have noticed by now if I were allergic to it." Jim moves Leonard's hand to his groin instead, making Leonard massage Jim's cock through his underwear. "Bones…"

Only Jim could manage to get hard with a broken leg. "You're a masochist."

"Probably," Jim responds before he tries to sit up more on the biobed.

"Don't make me sit on you," Leonard threatens, which probably wasn't the best thing to say as he can feel Jim's cock twitch at the idea.

"Is that a promise?" Jim licks his lips, looking at Leonard with hooded eyes and wide pupils.

Leonard can't deny that he isn't getting hard by how turned on Jim is. He knows different patients react differently to the sensation of the osteogens. And it really isn't fair to put a damper on Leonard's sex life just because Jim had to go get himself injured. Leonard starts undoing his pants with one hand, pointing at Jim with the other. "Conditions are that you are not allowed to move your leg, not even to bend your knees. You're going to be a model patient for the rest of your treatment, won't be doing anything even remotely dangerous for the next two weeks, and if anyone shows up, you can damn well bet that we aren't having sex anywhere outside our quarters ever again."

"Oh my god, yes, deal," Jim responds in one breath as Leonard unbuttons his shirt, leaving it pooled on the floor with the rest of his clothes.

Leonard climbs onto the biobed, carefully straddling Jim's thighs as he pulls Jim's cock out of his underwear, stroking it slowly while Jim awkwardly removes his shirt while recumbent. His hair gets all mussed from the effort, and Leonard leans down to kiss him. He pulls away when he feels Jim's hands on his ass.

"Not moving my leg," Jim says defensively. He starts sucking on his own fingers, the sight making Leonard grind his cock against Jim's. His groan echoes through the deserted sickbay when Jim's wet fingers enter him, stroking against Leonard's insides until he sees stars and curses when Jim rubs against his prostrate.

"There's lube in the drawer above your shoulder," Leonard manages to bite out, his hips jerking between wanting more friction on his cock to needing Jim's fingers deeper inside of him. A whining moan escapes his throat when Jim pulls his fingers out completely, finding a packet of medical grade lubricant that he rips open with his teeth.

Leonard can only handle watching Jim slowly squirt it onto his fingers for so long before he snatches it away and does it himself. He has to change his position to a squat, eyes fixed on how raptly Jim is watching him. "Holy fuck, Bones, you're so fucking h-hot." Jim stutters when Leonard starts to lower himself onto Jim, savoring the feeling that Jim's fingers had only teased at.

He manages to keep control with a slow, shallow pace, until Jim seems to move beyond the holy shit I can't believe this is actually happening mindset to start jerking Leonard off like it's a race on which of them can get the other to come first. It's a race that Leonard wins as Jim's breathing hitches, but he's not really keeping track or do more than give a lopsided smile as Jim does that thing to the head of his cock with his thumb that sends Leonard over the edge and coming on Jim's chest and stomach.

The osteogen on Jim's ankle beeps, signaling that the first round of treatment is done, and it's just so ridiculous that it has the both of them laughing.

And if both of them get a little hard at that sound from there on out, neither of them are going to admit to it.

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