miss_m_cricket | Fic: I Can Fix That

Title: I Can Fix That
Author:

miss_m_cricket
Pairing: Jim Kirk/Bones McCoy (Reboot!)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Summary: “Bones has decided to fix him..”..

A/N: Inspired by the prompt from

rei17 and second by

fadagaski found HERE!

A/N: Just something small to stir the mind again

I Can Fix That

Jim Kirk knows all about speed, he loves speed, he lives for it; the feeling of air rushing through hair, of his body hurling itself forward at speed. He has been speeding through life so fast that he can barely remember anything that has been before; maybe nothing was worth remembering before.

He remembers the shuttle though and the gruff words, “I may throw up on you,” growled by a handsome but scruffy man who looked like he had just tongue kissed a bramble thicket. He remembers the name, McCoy, Leonard McCoy, and the nickname Bones. He can even remember the taste of the alcohol sliding onto his tongue.

McCoy isn’t fast, isn’t drunk on speed, high on pace like Jim is. Maybe that is why Jim finds him so intriguing; maybe a part of him longs to take his foot off the accelerator slightly and slow down to savour things like Bones does. He sometimes wonders why McCoy stays around him, puts up with all the bullshit that Jim drags through his door, but he does have a theory. McCoy likes to fix things, is drawn to things that are broken and patches them up with those large capable hands.

“I can fix that.” He doesn’t know how many times he has heard Bones say it. But they are the words, more than any other that Jim believes defines his best friends place in his life. Whatever is wrong, he can fix it.

The Academy is still fast, he tumbles in and out of beds like a sexual whirlwind, leaving pleasure and dishevelled sheets in his wake. His reputation is as a wildfire, burning pleasure, so hot and wild and then gone with the next breath of wind, rushing off on an endless journey. Destructive too, but McCoy is the only one to comment on that.

He is made a Captain after the whirlwind events of the Narada encounter, speed once again rushing him forward as the youngest captain in Starfleet history. He is swept up onto the Enterprise, where suddenly time slows.

Bones has decided to fix him.

The seduction of Jim Kirk is slow, languorous and patient. Small gifts, chosen with thought and time, rather than instinct, soft touches, long looks. He is wooing his Captain and the entire ship approves.

Slowly he teaches Jim about love, something so foreign and alien to the young captain that it is like exploring a new world all on its own.

Jim has never spent the night in someone else’s bed and Bones is patient as Jim stays longer each night until finally he just stays, falling in a deep sleep unaware of the Doctors smile.

Jim has never shared his troubles but he listens to McCoy murmur about Jo and about his failed marriage, about his parents, about his life before Jim and the young man finds himself slowly opening up and sharing about his own misspent youth, his mother, his step father, the dreams he had had. And Bones listens, and he does not judge.

Jim is injured on an away team and McCoy is the last to know, only notified because he is so meticulous with checking the reports at the end of the day. Bones doesn’t yell, he doesn’t rage, doesn’t curse. But he calls Jim ‘Captain’, and the bedroom door doesn’t open for Jim that night.

Or the next night.

On the third night it opens but Bones refuses to speak about it. That is all it takes, Jim is clever, and he is learning. The next time he comes home in pieces, the first name he calls when he lands on the Transport deck is Bones name. And Bones is there to fix it.

Jim can remember everything from the last six years since he became Bones pupil in the art of love, nothing is a blur, and everything is crystallised in his memory. He never knew how much he missed by moving so fast.

This memory is no different, because he knows that seeing Bones enter the hall from the other side and meet him halfway is something he will treasure forever. Everything is white, gleaming around him, but its Bones glowing face that he can see. And its Bones hand that curls around his turning them to face the man that will join them in a ceremony as old as time.

“Your hand looks rather bare Jim,” Bones murmurs slipping a ring onto his finger, “I can fix that.”