(( *slowly melts into a puddle of holy crap how did I end up with this many drafts*
Bed time for me, loves. I likely won’t be on until Thursday because I have exams Tuesday and Wednesday, but I’ll do my best to pop on!
“Damn. Just when I was getting comfortable.” Heaving a sigh and shrugging, he rubs at his neck. “See, Bones you were complaining for no reason. I didn’t run out screaming. I’m telling you, that only happened because I was high on pain killers. I typically don’t run away from the medical bay. I just…avoid it.” Which was a shame. Bones was usually here. And yet, the smell of anesthetic still wigged him out like no other. “You can go ahead and talk about how silly you feel for not believing in me, I’ll listen.”
“Yeah, and I didn’t break your neck with the hypo. We can both do things we don’t usually do, Jim, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t expect the worst.” McCoy shrugged. He didn’t mind his friend’s aversion to sick bay provided he came in when he was required; it was good enough for McCoy to know that he could take the turbolift up to the bridge and find Jim there at pretty much any hour of the day or night. As long as he could get to the kid, it made no difference whether it was the doctor seeking him out or the other way around. “Not happening,” he snorted. “Firstly because I don’t feel silly, secondly because I don’t feel silly. And thirdly because even if I did, I wouldn’t give you that pleasure.”
The grin that splits his face is so large he almost tears the corners of his mouth. It’s only when the sudden and sharp pain hits him does that smug smile of his fade slightly. He only winces for a second before it’s over. Really, not worth the effort it took to avoid it at all. But hey, he’d be weird if he pleased. It was his prerogative anyhow. “Oh would you? I somehow believe you, you’re incredibly feisty Bones. I guess I’ll have to try to be less of an ass.” It was only just a slight admittance to wanting more of it. Only just a slight one. “It was awful, I hated it. Zero out of ten stars, would not recommend.”
The urge to laugh his dry, humorless laugh was nearly overwhelming; the way Jim Kirk’s cocky grin faded as the hypo hit his skin was more amusing than most anything else McCoy had seen in the last few weeks. “We’ll see,” he countered blithely. Jim was right, though: if the only way McCoy could get his friend to listen to him was to grab him by the shoulders and let him have it in fine Georgia fashion, then he would be more than glad to do just that. Whether or not either of them enjoyed that was another matter entirely, and one that McCoy did not want to consider. “Whatever you thought of it, you’re done now - for the time being.”
“I actually liked history, thank you. It was math I hated. Blegh.” He sticks his tongue out in a less than contented way. But when he’s gripped, he lets out a low chuckle and looks at the doctor out of the corner of his eyes. “Oh, Bones.” Drawling out his name, Jim clucks his tongue in an impressed manner. “I love it when you get all hands on and commanding. Didn’t know you had it in you.” His hands grip onto the edge of the examination table, preparing himself for it. He knows it isn’t going to hurt that bad. It’ll just be a pinch. Jim has been beat to within an inch of his life more times than he can count, can take a punch like no other. But him and hyposprays? What a weirdo. Yet, obediently he stays still for the man.
“Nobody in their right mind likes math,” McCoy agreed, “except maybe Chekov. Then again, I’m not so sure he is in his right mind. Seventeen, my ass.” Shaking his head in exasperation as Jim went out of his way to make a simple gesture sexual once again, the doctor scowled. His thumb pressed a little harder against the young man’s cheek as though warning Kirk to keep his mouth shut. “Maybe I’d do it more often if you weren’t such an ass about it.” He applied the hypo with a quick, deft movement of his hand, keeping his touch as light as he thought his cheeky patient deserved. “There, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?”
By the time Jim worked up enough courage to face McCoy again, the pregnancy and the strain of keeping up a mask of normalcy had begun to wear the doctor thin. Today had been a particularly stressful day, too, and the last thing he wanted was a conversation. But as the doorbell buzzed, he raised his forehead from where it pressed to the cool surface of the table, glaring at the door. “Come in,” he said reluctantly.
Send me a ♦ for an unsent text.
You know you’re the best damn nurse I’ve ever worked with, don’t you?
“You really have something against bureaucrats. If it weren’t for you complaining about bureaucrats, I’d have no idea what a bureaucrat even was. In fact, I’m still not totally sure. Apparently they’re on your ass because I’m too cool to get sick and or injured.” Trailing off, he hums in a thoughtful way and looks over as he squints at the hypospray. Eyebrows knit together in worry, and he gives the older man a scrutinizing look. “What’s wrong, Bones? Having trouble with your alleged ‘20/20’ vision?” You know what? Sometimes it might get frustrating, being teased by Jim mercilessly. But honestly it was a good thing. Because if Jim ignored you, he didn’t like you. If he taunted you while giggling like a school girl, it meant he adored you.
“Yeah?” Bones raised an eyebrow at the captain. “You’d know what a bureaucrat was if you hadn’t slept through every history class you’ve ever taken. Or, better yet, get a dictionary. It’d do you good to pick up a book now and then.” McCoy’s eyes followed Jim’s expression for a time, but eventually they fell away, returning to the hypo. It was one of Jim’s, thankfully. “My vision’s fine,” he growled. Reaching up to press a thumb on Jim’s cheek, making him turn his head to the side and down so the greater portion of the kid’s neck was open. “Now don’t be a baby and hold still.”
logicallybased started following how-poetic
*There is a short pause, as though McCoy is collecting himself. Then he crosses his arms, frowning.* Well, Spock, what did ya need me for?