pairing: kirk/mccoy/spock/uhura (in the context of kirk/mccoy, spock/uhura, with a healthy dose of kirk/spock/mccoy)
rating: nc-17 (this is porn. just fyi.)
summary: the thing about interstellar diplomacy is that it’s not exactly straightfoward.
notes: This continues to be really, really shameless porn, and I would like to thank Tumblr users whitelaws and radiophile for encouraging this and feeding me ideas. Nothing brings people together quite like the thought of Jim Kirk being fucked beyond belief! Also, “steeplechase” is not only an athletic event but a form of horseracing which, to quote the lovely radiophile is ‘a race as well as jumping so everything is literally at breakneck speeds.’
Posts tagged fic.
So this only took for freaking ever.
For the amazing Radiophile, who won this at a Fandom Aid auction many ages ago. I hope you like it!
Fandom: Marvel Ultimates
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Characters: Sam Wilson, Carol Danvers, Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan, Natasha Romanov, Gregory Stark
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, cops and robbers
FBI Agent Steve Rogers and his partner Sam Wilson have spent the last couple of years just a few steps behind the high-end art thief and hacker known as Iron Man. When someone starts using Steve’s connections to hack into the FBI mainframe, he knows there’s only one person it could be. But the hacking is only the beginning, and the game Iron Man is playing promises to get them closer than ever before.
I asked for “Steve/Tony - Cops-and-robbers AU” and I got THIS INCREDIBLE 30K WORD FIC oh my god you guyssss I can’t stress how amazing it is and how badly you all need to go read it *___* ♥
title: Not So Quiet Virtue
wordcount: 1,941 words
summary: It’s not exactly false modesty, but it’s definitely no less misguided in Bones’ case.
based on TOS episode(s): Friday’s Child (2.11)
author’s notes: (See end of work.)
au where tony is a really avant garde michilen star chef who does crazy shit with LIQUID NITROGEN and FOAMS and MENTAL TASTE COMBINATIONS and steve is a classically trained chef who has turned his back on the snobbery of the classical kitchen to make food affordable and bruce is one of those guys who seems super quiet but once he’s in the kitchen he shouts at you in french and throws pans everywhere and shit and shield is a really weird high concept restaurant where like all the food is served in the dark and the menu is a secret and natasha and clint probably COOK IT IN THE DARK TOO and obviously thor is making BIG BOLD TRENDY NORWEIGAN FUSION FOOD NEW KID ON THE BLOCK OOH
and they all unite against loki who is an overly critical food critic I guess
gyzym gave me the fluff prompt: jim + bones + winter + CLOTHES SHARING because that gives me feelings.
Because this thing, right, this twisting thing between them, it happened in the spring. Bones happens to like spring, and especially now that he’s in San Francisco he fucking clings to it, because all winter means is colder fogs and more rain on the Bay. And of course Starfleet has a pitiful excuse of a winter uniform (There are thermals in your reds, Dr. McCoy the requisitions officer had tried to tell him, and besides, it’s only November, and he had to walk out of there before he got himself a demerit) so there’s really jack all he can do about it.
Jim, of course, laughs his ass off the day he spots Bones covered in wool in the corner of their dorm, knitting needles clicking and clacking, scowling his way through what he thinks is meant to be a scarf. “Dude, it’s not even snowing.” and when Bones looks up and Jim is in nothing more than a black undershirt and his reds pants, even though he’s been out doing drills all afternoon, he doesn’t even know where to begin with the tirade he should be giving him so he just throws his knitting at Jim and bellows something about being needed at Medical “where they have a decent fucking temperature control center.”
It’s about a week after that that he finds a ridiculously oversized coat, lined with fur and emblazoned with a shiny ‘Fleet symbol on the front pocket, laid out on his bed. There’s no note with it but he doesn’t need one, Jim bounding in a few minutes later, throwing down his gear with a “Bones, we are going out.”
And so they do. They grab dinner and they fight over the cheque, and when Bones inevitably wins that battle Jim springs for some weird alien streetfood on the boardwalk that tingles in his mouth and goes between sweet and sour in the best way.
It’s only after that that he finally asks “So, whose was it?” with his hands stuffed in wool-lined pockets. Jim (who’s still only in a damn leather jacket, damn Iowan cornpone bastard) doesn’t look at him, just keeps walking steadily beside him, when he says “Dad’s. And then mine. Had mom send it to me - it’s Starfleet issue, I swear, even if it’s a bit out of date but hey, you know, work that vintage style, Bones-” but Bones has already pulled to a stop, because he can hear that hint in Jim’s voice that means he’s saying way more than he thinks he’s meant to. So he asks “What did you tell her?” and Jim just shrugs, eyes darting everywhere but Bones’ face whilst he says “Said I knew this Georgian hick who couldn’t deal when it’s just brisk, seriously man, you would not last two minutes back home - Jesus, you look so stupid.” and Bones concedes that he probably does, with the parka hood up and the coat zipped all the way to his chin, but still Jim steps forward, into Bones’ space, so that the mist from their breath mingles and he can feel the phantom warmth of Jim’s lips against his own.
“Your dad’s, huh? Shoulda guessed. Any coat of yours would’ve never fit around my shoulders.”
“Fuck you, and It’s still mine. You’re just borrowing it.”
“Your generosity is overwhelming.”
“Yeah, but don’t worry. I know exactly how you can repay me,” and Jim does kiss him, then, takes his lips in a chaste press that shouldn’t ricochet down his throat the way it does, but it does because it’s Jim and it’s them and he’s long past the point of trying to apply reason to this thing between them because fuck it, he’s happy.
Jim presses another kiss against his jaw when they part, breathes hot against his skin, “You warm now, Bones?”
He just pulls his hand from his pocket, threads his fingers through Jim’s, tugs him down the path back to the Academy, and Jim laughs and bumps his shoulder and doesn’t let him go until they’re back in their room and he’s peeling the coat away from Bones, trailing his fingers across skin, and Bones spends the next while figuring out all the ways he can finally make Jim shiver.
Yeah, he thinks, much later on, coat hanging haphazard over a chair whilst Jim sleeps soundly beside him. I’m warm now, kid.
The Irrefutable Truth about Demons (2000)
“Lemme guess,” Jim says, folding his arms over his chest as he leans against the doorframe, “it’s medicinal.”
Leo, three tokes in and not much inclined towards feeling defensive about it, just shrugs the shoulder that isn’t submerged in his bath and lifts the joint to his lips again. It’s still burning from his last hit, canoeing a little up one side but not enough to faze him; he sucks in a breath, sharp and fast, doesn’t pull his mouth away until a few ashes have fallen into the water. When he draws the smoke into his lungs he holds it there for a long minute, eyes closed, enjoying the tightness in his chest until it becomes unbearable before he tips his head back and exhales, releasing the smoke in a long, thin stream.
Jim is staring at him, at the joint, all his flagrantly faked nonchalance gone in favor of sharp-eyed interest. Leo grins at him lazily, says, “Guess that depends on what’s ailing you, don’t it?”
“Ha fucking ha.” Jim rolls his eyes but he’s moving, too, folding himself down on the floor next to the tub and leaning his head back just next to Leo’s elbow. “You’re a laugh riot, Bones, have I ever told you that?”
“Don’t pander,” Leo says. It’s not really the full sentence he was after, but the warm water’s relaxing and his skin’s starting to fit a little different, a little easier than it usually does; anyway, he knows Jim knows what he means. “And open up.”
“He shares,” Jim says, mock-wondering, but there’s a smile in the way his eyes crinkle as he tilts his head towards Leo, closes his lips around the joint Leo holds to his mouth. He inhales so hard that the burning paper creeps uncomfortably close to Leo’s fingers, but Leo doesn’t flinch and Jim doesn’t cough, just draws in a second, deeper breath before he moves to crouch on the bathroom floor.
“Oh,” Leo says softly, “so that’s how you want to play it,” and he lifts his free hand, dripping wet, and slides it into Jim’s hair, drawing him close. When Jim’s mouth seals over Leo’s he exhales, and Leo draws it in, everything Jim’s letting go; he’s just stoned enough that it feels staggering, monumental, to be to do this, to be able to hold in his lungs something Jim’s already breathed. When Jim pulls back and Leo releases what little smoke remains back out into the world, it feels like an ecstasy, like a loss.
“You are so fucking blazed right now, aren’t you,” Jim says, not a question, fondness tugging at his vowels and the corner of his mouth as he plucks the joint from Leo’s hand. “You degenerate.”
“Takes one,” Leo says, and watches through lidded eyes as Jim sits and hits the joint again, head resting against the rounded edge of the tub.
radiophile asked for: AU where neither jim or bones get on that shuttle and they meet in a seedy bar and fuck like only those who have hit rock bottom can (rough and messy and reckless)
which is super mean and tragic and lbr hottttt
He doesn’t even know the kid.
Jim/Bones, ~3,000 words, with all the love and thanks in the world to amazonpoodle for the wonderful beta. Here, have an excerpt:
Leo packs them up, his hurts, his heart, locks them all behind a door he leaves charred and scarred in warning. He heads for the hills, and when they’re not far enough he gathers his courage and reaches like hell for the stars. Theirs is a danger he’s lived his whole life fearing, sure, but Leo’s not so young as he once was. Leo’s not so young as to let naivety eat at him like a cancer, blinding him to the glaringly obvious: that there’s danger enough, heartbreak to spare, wherever he goddamn goes.
leighway asked me to write porn about this.
because she fucking would.
Okay so I cannot remember exactly where I read this but apparently one of the reboot writers or producers or something likes the idea that Jim served six months on the Farragut whilst he was at the Academy?
And first I was like “SWITCH IS CANON!!!!” But then I thought about it more. Because in Switch, Jim’s only up there for like, six weeks, or something? Six months, though - six fucking months, and they’re only at the Academy for three years. That’s a long time.
I can imagine Jim and Bones both trying their very fucking hardest not to let it get to them. The calendar in the kitchenette isn’t coloured in or anything - the only thing the date says is “Farragut” and that’s definitely not because McCoy couldn’t bring himself to write “Jim Leaves.” It’s not like a twisting knife in his guts when the floor isn’t covered in clothes and PADDs because they’re steadily being packed away. It’s not like McCoy has been looking into ship placements for medical track students during his breaks at the clinic.
And Jim? Well, Jim’s always followed Bones around like it’s the most normal thing in the world, always been comfortable with popping in at lunch or dragging him out to the track for a run or taking up space at his table in the library. He probably couldn’t spend more time with Bones if he tried - but there’s more weight to it, now, when they’re passing a bottle between them on the boardwalk, looking up at the sky and wondering what’s out there. When there’s coffee waiting when he wakes up, Bones humming some tuneless song as he potters around the kitchen on his first free Saturday in weeks. When his ensign uniform comes in - command gold at last - and McCoy just nods brusquely and strides out the door, growling something about an emergency at Medical.
So when the day finally comes, shuttles flying every which way around the hangar, the cacophony of families and friends and lovers all saying goodbye nearly overwhelming, when Jim just reaches out to shake McCoy’s hand he steps right past it and wraps his arms around the kid, too tight and too sudden but he can’t really bring himself to care, especially when Jim drops his bags and hugs Bones right back, the murmured What, you gonna miss me or something, Bones? the strangest mix of sadness and excitement and relief.
So Bones lets him go, because that’s what you do when you love something, tells him to Be safe, or I’ll kill you myself which makes Jim smile and straighten his spine in a mock stand to attention, like Yes, sir and also I’ll come back, I promise. And as Jim walks away (and he’ll always be proud that he only looked back twice) they both make the same decision that will end up saving them all - that the next time one of them gets called up, the next time the stars beckon, the next time they boldly go… they won’t be going alone.