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star_trek_flashfic2009-05-27 10:17 pm
ysobel) wrote in star_trek_flashfic2009-05-27 10:17 pm
Entry tags:
Civil Dialogue - Kirk/McCoy
Title: Civil Dialogue
Fandom: Reboot
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kirk's stepdad tracks him down, and they have a little chat. (Note: I have no idea if there's an official name for stepdad; if there is, plz to be letting me know and I can fix it. fixed, thanks!)
#
Kirk's stepdad tracks him down, two months into the Academy.
"How did you find me?" Kirk asks. "Never mind that, *why* did you find me?"
"It wasn't my idea," his stepdad says, half a snarl. "It was Win's. She's fucking *frantic*, the way you just ... disappeared." Deep-set, angry eyes glare at him from a face Kirk wishes he didn't know. "You stupid fucking bastard, what did you think you were doing? Out of all the possible jobs in the universe, you pick *Starfleet*? After what happened to your father?"
Kirk leans back, watching him. Studying him, like this is a simulation he has to win, something set up by one of the instructors. "Mom doesn't know," he says finally, half question.
"Haven't told her," Frank admits, a little sullen. "It'll fucking kill her. You know this."
And so do you, Kirk thinks. Which is why you came -- to see whether or not I actually *was* where you thought I'd gone. Not that he'd really bothered to hide it, except for the instinctive amount of covering his tracks.
"Why?" Frank demands, and leans forward. Classic interrogation technique, Kirk thinks; attempt at domination. It's almost laughable. "Why do it, do *this*," and he's sneering now, like Starfleet is the worst possible thing.
Kirk leans forward and mirrors his posture. He doesn't look like a match in the physical department -- Frank's a farmer born and bred, and has the bulk and strength that comes from physical work, and Kirk's scrawny in comparison, even if he's learned how to fight and fight dirty -- but that doesn't matter. It's all about not even *looking* intimidated. "Why Starfleet?" he says, slowly, clearly, "Because I didn't want to become someone like you."
His stepdad hears the intended insult, and his face darkens. He half stands up, then sits abruptly down. Through clenched teeth, he asks, "What exactly do you mean by that?"
Kirk tells him.
Halfway through his recitation, when his stepdad's face is an interesting shade of purple, he sees a familiar face at the door, and it distracts him mid-sentence. He'd deliberately picked a place to meet that wasn't frequented by Starfleet cadets; the sight of the bright red uniform makes him realize how much he stands out here, in this civilian bar.
"Jim," McCoy says, hurrying over, "there you are, I've been looking--" He skids to a halt as he finally notices there's another person at the table.
Kirk can't help smiling. This is too perfect, he thinks. "Bones," he says, "darling shnookums," and before McCoy's surprise has a chance to change into his what-the-fuck-are-you-*smoking* look, Kirk grabs the other cadet by the front of his uniform and kisses him. Makes a big fucking deal out of kissing him, actually.
At first, Kirk's just hyper-aware of his stepdad, of the confusion turning to anger and disgust. Their eyes are locked, and it's his stepdad who looks away first, hands clenched. Kirk closes his eyes, triumphant, and deepens the kiss, which is actually pretty damn good, given that it hadn't been even planned.
When they break apart, McCoy mouths 'what--' and Kirk hisses in his ear, "Just play along." There's the subtlest of nods, and Kirk knows him well enough to know that he'll catch hell for this later, but he's never really cared about later anyway. He tugs McCoy down to sit on his lap, one arm draping casually around Kirk's neck, acting like they do this all the time.
"Frank," Kirk says sweetly. "This is my..." He tilts his head to look at McCoy, and licks his lips. "... roommate."
"...I see," his stepdad says, hands curled into fists. He looks like he's about to implode. "Perhaps it's better that you remain in Starfleet," and the words sound like they're being dragged out of him and thrown daggerlike at Kirk.
"Glad we agree." Kirk smirks at him. "C'mon, pumpkin, we got studying to do." He nudges McCoy to stand up, and bounces to his feet. "Say hi to mom for us," he says, knowing his stepdad won't.
#
McCoy is silent almost all the way back to Starfleet campus. Then he says, "Dammit, Jim. I can't believe you used me like that."
"Oh, come on, it was fun, admit it." Kirk hasn't stopped grinning. "I mean, did you see his expression?"
"It was petty and stupid and, fuck, you know what? I think I'm mad at you. In fact, I don't think I'm talking to you." McCoy scowls. "I'm not talking to him," he announces loudly to the world at large. They're back in cadet territory, and a few look up but most don't.
"Spoilsport." Kirk bounds a few steps forward, whirls, and starts walking backwards in front of McCoy. "Hey," he says brightly, "if you're not talking, I can think of other things to use that mouth of yours for."
McCoy mutters something under his breath.
"It'll be even more fun," Kirk wheedles.
They pass someone -- a kid, maybe eleven or twelve, probably a Starfleet brat -- and McCoy stops suddenly, grabs the kid by the elbow. "Listen," he growls. "I am not talking to that cadet." With his free hand he jabs a finger at Kirk. "Understand?"
The kid nods, baffled and intimidated. "Yessir."
"You, however, are under no such obligation."
"Um, sir--"
"Tell that cadet--" He looks up at Kirk, and just for a moment his eyes glitter in the light of the late-afternoon sun. "--that he is not to leave his quarters tonight. Tell him," he repeats, in a damn good officer voice, when the kid hesitates.
Kirk laughs. "Don't worry about it," he says to the kid, and he winks at McCoy and walks off whistling. Damn but they're going to have fun later.
(Okay, so maybe he sometimes does care about later.)
Fandom: Reboot
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kirk's stepdad tracks him down, and they have a little chat. (
#
Kirk's stepdad tracks him down, two months into the Academy.
"How did you find me?" Kirk asks. "Never mind that, *why* did you find me?"
"It wasn't my idea," his stepdad says, half a snarl. "It was Win's. She's fucking *frantic*, the way you just ... disappeared." Deep-set, angry eyes glare at him from a face Kirk wishes he didn't know. "You stupid fucking bastard, what did you think you were doing? Out of all the possible jobs in the universe, you pick *Starfleet*? After what happened to your father?"
Kirk leans back, watching him. Studying him, like this is a simulation he has to win, something set up by one of the instructors. "Mom doesn't know," he says finally, half question.
"Haven't told her," Frank admits, a little sullen. "It'll fucking kill her. You know this."
And so do you, Kirk thinks. Which is why you came -- to see whether or not I actually *was* where you thought I'd gone. Not that he'd really bothered to hide it, except for the instinctive amount of covering his tracks.
"Why?" Frank demands, and leans forward. Classic interrogation technique, Kirk thinks; attempt at domination. It's almost laughable. "Why do it, do *this*," and he's sneering now, like Starfleet is the worst possible thing.
Kirk leans forward and mirrors his posture. He doesn't look like a match in the physical department -- Frank's a farmer born and bred, and has the bulk and strength that comes from physical work, and Kirk's scrawny in comparison, even if he's learned how to fight and fight dirty -- but that doesn't matter. It's all about not even *looking* intimidated. "Why Starfleet?" he says, slowly, clearly, "Because I didn't want to become someone like you."
His stepdad hears the intended insult, and his face darkens. He half stands up, then sits abruptly down. Through clenched teeth, he asks, "What exactly do you mean by that?"
Kirk tells him.
Halfway through his recitation, when his stepdad's face is an interesting shade of purple, he sees a familiar face at the door, and it distracts him mid-sentence. He'd deliberately picked a place to meet that wasn't frequented by Starfleet cadets; the sight of the bright red uniform makes him realize how much he stands out here, in this civilian bar.
"Jim," McCoy says, hurrying over, "there you are, I've been looking--" He skids to a halt as he finally notices there's another person at the table.
Kirk can't help smiling. This is too perfect, he thinks. "Bones," he says, "darling shnookums," and before McCoy's surprise has a chance to change into his what-the-fuck-are-you-*smoking* look, Kirk grabs the other cadet by the front of his uniform and kisses him. Makes a big fucking deal out of kissing him, actually.
At first, Kirk's just hyper-aware of his stepdad, of the confusion turning to anger and disgust. Their eyes are locked, and it's his stepdad who looks away first, hands clenched. Kirk closes his eyes, triumphant, and deepens the kiss, which is actually pretty damn good, given that it hadn't been even planned.
When they break apart, McCoy mouths 'what--' and Kirk hisses in his ear, "Just play along." There's the subtlest of nods, and Kirk knows him well enough to know that he'll catch hell for this later, but he's never really cared about later anyway. He tugs McCoy down to sit on his lap, one arm draping casually around Kirk's neck, acting like they do this all the time.
"Frank," Kirk says sweetly. "This is my..." He tilts his head to look at McCoy, and licks his lips. "... roommate."
"...I see," his stepdad says, hands curled into fists. He looks like he's about to implode. "Perhaps it's better that you remain in Starfleet," and the words sound like they're being dragged out of him and thrown daggerlike at Kirk.
"Glad we agree." Kirk smirks at him. "C'mon, pumpkin, we got studying to do." He nudges McCoy to stand up, and bounces to his feet. "Say hi to mom for us," he says, knowing his stepdad won't.
#
McCoy is silent almost all the way back to Starfleet campus. Then he says, "Dammit, Jim. I can't believe you used me like that."
"Oh, come on, it was fun, admit it." Kirk hasn't stopped grinning. "I mean, did you see his expression?"
"It was petty and stupid and, fuck, you know what? I think I'm mad at you. In fact, I don't think I'm talking to you." McCoy scowls. "I'm not talking to him," he announces loudly to the world at large. They're back in cadet territory, and a few look up but most don't.
"Spoilsport." Kirk bounds a few steps forward, whirls, and starts walking backwards in front of McCoy. "Hey," he says brightly, "if you're not talking, I can think of other things to use that mouth of yours for."
McCoy mutters something under his breath.
"It'll be even more fun," Kirk wheedles.
They pass someone -- a kid, maybe eleven or twelve, probably a Starfleet brat -- and McCoy stops suddenly, grabs the kid by the elbow. "Listen," he growls. "I am not talking to that cadet." With his free hand he jabs a finger at Kirk. "Understand?"
The kid nods, baffled and intimidated. "Yessir."
"You, however, are under no such obligation."
"Um, sir--"
"Tell that cadet--" He looks up at Kirk, and just for a moment his eyes glitter in the light of the late-afternoon sun. "--that he is not to leave his quarters tonight. Tell him," he repeats, in a damn good officer voice, when the kid hesitates.
Kirk laughs. "Don't worry about it," he says to the kid, and he winks at McCoy and walks off whistling. Damn but they're going to have fun later.
(Okay, so maybe he sometimes does care about later.)
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I love it!
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The moment of inspiration. (Kirk has bad ideas like *Miles*.) The implementation. The calcuation of the whole confrontation from beginning to end. And Bones!!!!
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Poor Bones is doomed, I think. XD
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LOL, just for that he deserves another round of hypospray. I liked it. Thanks for sharing.