Fic: The Good Morrow
May. 31st, 2009 11:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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singularityTitle: The Good Morrow
Author:fringedweller
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: A bit sappy?
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money.
Author's Note: Second in a short series charting the progression of the Kirk/McCoy relationship through the poetry of John Donne. Sequel to Confined Love
A perfect song to accompany this is Elbow's On A Day Like This, available here
I wonder, by my troth, what thou, and I,
Did, till we lov’d? were we not weaned till then,
But sucked on country pleasures childishly?
Or snorted we in the seven sleepers den?
‘Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be.
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired, and got, ‘twas but a dream of thee.
The sun was rising slowly outside, dawn breaking fine and clear. They hadn’t closed the shutters last night, too busy pulling off clothes and pushing narrow beds together. The room still bore the scars of their clumsy fumbling – a smashed lamp, a data pad with a broken screen sent skidding into a wall. Their bodies had not escaped unmarked either. McCoy, so gentle with patients, had gripped Jim’s hips so hard ten fingertip sized bruises now bloomed against the smooth tan of Jim’s body. McCoy’s neck had become victim to Jim’s sucking bites, the pale, salty skin now bearing deep red marks.
The sun woke Jim but McCoy slept on, too used to long nights on duty at hospitals to miss the chance for a few hours uninterrupted rest. Jim stayed in the makeshift double bed, watching the inhale and exhale of breath from his oldest friend and brand new lover. He had dreamed of this so often, to wake tangled up in limbs and sheets with Bones, that in this frail dawn light it still seemed like a dream. Then he shifted slightly and the ache in his backside told him last night had been all too real. It was a good ache, he decided, shifting again.
Bones looked younger when he slept, Jim thought, reaching out a finger to trace along the outline of an eyebrow, his nose. McCoy huffed and twitched in his sleep, and flopped a hand in Jim’s direction. He slept on, unaware of Jim’s benevolent grin. The lines on his handsome face lessened in his sleep, the seemingly permanent crease of worry on his forehead was smoothed out.
Staring at his best friend, Jim couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t wanted him. Ever since Bones stomped noisily onto that transport shuttle, complaining of death and disease and threatening to vomit on him, Jim was hooked. It was instant, and it was permanent, and it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. It didn’t take him long to figure out that Bones wasn’t interested though, or at least he wasn’t willing to admit he was. Jim had tried some of his best tricks – wandering around the dorm room naked, getting drunk and being asleep in Bones’ bed when Bones returned from his work at the hospital, even picking fights so Bones could patch him up. It was only when Jim found himself absently working out a plan to get them stranded in a cold cave somewhere so they’d have to huddle together for warmth that he decided he was going crazy.
Jim’s feelings weren’t going to change any time soon, but he had needs, pressing needs, so until Bones got his act together or Jim stopped feeling whatever the hell it was he was feeling, Jim was going to have a little fun. He'd dived headfirst into the available cadets at the Academy, and tried to fuck his way out. He’d enjoyed himself immensely, but as soon as he zipped up his pants or she rolled over and went to sleep, Jim would think of Bones and start to hate himself a little bit more. Then he’d go out and do it again the next night.
Until last night. Jim wasn’t one hundred per cent sure, but he didn’t think he’d be sleeping in anyone else’s bed again. Or doing anything else in it either.
And now good morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear;
For love, all love of other sighs controls,
And makes one little room an every where.
Let sea discoverers to new worlds have gone,
Let maps to others, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world, each hath one and is one.
Jim stayed in bed another hour, curled around Bones’ warm body. He noted every mark or scar on his skin, and counted every mole. He was frustrated in his efforts by the sheet that was wound around their legs. He was considering how best to move it without waking the other man when Bones yawned and said sleepily, “I’ve a birthmark the shape of Australia on my ass, if that’s what you’re lookin’ for.”
“Well, that’s an invitation if ever I heard one.”
Jim rolled over Bones to try and grab at the sheet, but the older man just laughed, shifted his weight and pulled Jim underneath him again. Jim gave an experimental roll of his hips that sent a jolt of pleasure through the both of them. Bones bent his head down and captured Jim’s mouth in a powerful, hungry kiss. One kiss lead to another, and Jim grabbed onto to Bones’ waist and planted his other hand in the older man’s hair to anchor him in place. The world outside their room fell away. All Jim knew was the bed beneath him, and the man above him, and that was all he needed to know. They rocked slowly against each other, last night’s frantic coupling gone with the dark night. Now, in the clear morning light that spilled through the open windows, their pleasure built ever higher as they moved together to tip the other over into spirals of bliss.
They lay together panting, afterwards. Jim made a half-hearted attempt to mop up their slick stomachs with one of the sheets, but an impatient Bones took over and efficiently cleaned them up. He shifted in the bed as if to get up, and Jim shot out a hand to grab Bones by the firm bicep.
“Don’t leave,“ he said, cursing inwardly at how fucking needy he sounded. Cling-ons aren’t sexy, he thought.
“Not leavin’,“ Bones murmured into his ear, “don’t worry. It’s just that I’ve been sleepin’ on this, “ he reached behind himself and brandished a half-used tube of lubricant, “all night, and it’s left a mark.”
Jim grinned, took the tube and threw it carelessly onto the bedside cabinet.
“Let me play doctor, Bones. Let me kiss it and make it better.”
Jim spent the rest of the early dawn light mapping out Bones’ body, kissing marks and counting moles until the sun rose in earnest, bathing them both in strong, golden light. Alarm clocks could be heard from neighbouring dorm rooms, cadets could be heard moving noisily through the halls.
Bones caught Jim’s head in his hands and dragged his lips back up to his own. They kissed again, almost desperately, and Bones said,
“Anywhere you need to be, Jim?”
Jim shook his head, catching McCoy’s lips again.
“No, just here. There is no other place but here.”
There is another verse, and another part of the story, but I thought it ended better here. If you're interested in the alternate ending, let me know.
Author:
fringedwellerRating: NC-17
Warnings: A bit sappy?
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money.
Author's Note: Second in a short series charting the progression of the Kirk/McCoy relationship through the poetry of John Donne. Sequel to Confined Love
A perfect song to accompany this is Elbow's On A Day Like This, available here
I wonder, by my troth, what thou, and I,
Did, till we lov’d? were we not weaned till then,
But sucked on country pleasures childishly?
Or snorted we in the seven sleepers den?
‘Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be.
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired, and got, ‘twas but a dream of thee.
The sun was rising slowly outside, dawn breaking fine and clear. They hadn’t closed the shutters last night, too busy pulling off clothes and pushing narrow beds together. The room still bore the scars of their clumsy fumbling – a smashed lamp, a data pad with a broken screen sent skidding into a wall. Their bodies had not escaped unmarked either. McCoy, so gentle with patients, had gripped Jim’s hips so hard ten fingertip sized bruises now bloomed against the smooth tan of Jim’s body. McCoy’s neck had become victim to Jim’s sucking bites, the pale, salty skin now bearing deep red marks.
The sun woke Jim but McCoy slept on, too used to long nights on duty at hospitals to miss the chance for a few hours uninterrupted rest. Jim stayed in the makeshift double bed, watching the inhale and exhale of breath from his oldest friend and brand new lover. He had dreamed of this so often, to wake tangled up in limbs and sheets with Bones, that in this frail dawn light it still seemed like a dream. Then he shifted slightly and the ache in his backside told him last night had been all too real. It was a good ache, he decided, shifting again.
Bones looked younger when he slept, Jim thought, reaching out a finger to trace along the outline of an eyebrow, his nose. McCoy huffed and twitched in his sleep, and flopped a hand in Jim’s direction. He slept on, unaware of Jim’s benevolent grin. The lines on his handsome face lessened in his sleep, the seemingly permanent crease of worry on his forehead was smoothed out.
Staring at his best friend, Jim couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t wanted him. Ever since Bones stomped noisily onto that transport shuttle, complaining of death and disease and threatening to vomit on him, Jim was hooked. It was instant, and it was permanent, and it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. It didn’t take him long to figure out that Bones wasn’t interested though, or at least he wasn’t willing to admit he was. Jim had tried some of his best tricks – wandering around the dorm room naked, getting drunk and being asleep in Bones’ bed when Bones returned from his work at the hospital, even picking fights so Bones could patch him up. It was only when Jim found himself absently working out a plan to get them stranded in a cold cave somewhere so they’d have to huddle together for warmth that he decided he was going crazy.
Jim’s feelings weren’t going to change any time soon, but he had needs, pressing needs, so until Bones got his act together or Jim stopped feeling whatever the hell it was he was feeling, Jim was going to have a little fun. He'd dived headfirst into the available cadets at the Academy, and tried to fuck his way out. He’d enjoyed himself immensely, but as soon as he zipped up his pants or she rolled over and went to sleep, Jim would think of Bones and start to hate himself a little bit more. Then he’d go out and do it again the next night.
Until last night. Jim wasn’t one hundred per cent sure, but he didn’t think he’d be sleeping in anyone else’s bed again. Or doing anything else in it either.
And now good morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear;
For love, all love of other sighs controls,
And makes one little room an every where.
Let sea discoverers to new worlds have gone,
Let maps to others, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world, each hath one and is one.
Jim stayed in bed another hour, curled around Bones’ warm body. He noted every mark or scar on his skin, and counted every mole. He was frustrated in his efforts by the sheet that was wound around their legs. He was considering how best to move it without waking the other man when Bones yawned and said sleepily, “I’ve a birthmark the shape of Australia on my ass, if that’s what you’re lookin’ for.”
“Well, that’s an invitation if ever I heard one.”
Jim rolled over Bones to try and grab at the sheet, but the older man just laughed, shifted his weight and pulled Jim underneath him again. Jim gave an experimental roll of his hips that sent a jolt of pleasure through the both of them. Bones bent his head down and captured Jim’s mouth in a powerful, hungry kiss. One kiss lead to another, and Jim grabbed onto to Bones’ waist and planted his other hand in the older man’s hair to anchor him in place. The world outside their room fell away. All Jim knew was the bed beneath him, and the man above him, and that was all he needed to know. They rocked slowly against each other, last night’s frantic coupling gone with the dark night. Now, in the clear morning light that spilled through the open windows, their pleasure built ever higher as they moved together to tip the other over into spirals of bliss.
They lay together panting, afterwards. Jim made a half-hearted attempt to mop up their slick stomachs with one of the sheets, but an impatient Bones took over and efficiently cleaned them up. He shifted in the bed as if to get up, and Jim shot out a hand to grab Bones by the firm bicep.
“Don’t leave,“ he said, cursing inwardly at how fucking needy he sounded. Cling-ons aren’t sexy, he thought.
“Not leavin’,“ Bones murmured into his ear, “don’t worry. It’s just that I’ve been sleepin’ on this, “ he reached behind himself and brandished a half-used tube of lubricant, “all night, and it’s left a mark.”
Jim grinned, took the tube and threw it carelessly onto the bedside cabinet.
“Let me play doctor, Bones. Let me kiss it and make it better.”
Jim spent the rest of the early dawn light mapping out Bones’ body, kissing marks and counting moles until the sun rose in earnest, bathing them both in strong, golden light. Alarm clocks could be heard from neighbouring dorm rooms, cadets could be heard moving noisily through the halls.
Bones caught Jim’s head in his hands and dragged his lips back up to his own. They kissed again, almost desperately, and Bones said,
“Anywhere you need to be, Jim?”
Jim shook his head, catching McCoy’s lips again.
“No, just here. There is no other place but here.”
There is another verse, and another part of the story, but I thought it ended better here. If you're interested in the alternate ending, let me know.