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[noiseyburlesquepeach]

Chapter 2/3 is posted!

btw my angsty Star Trek fic is up

[noiseyburlesquepeach]

Chapter two is up!

Summary: Bones missed Jim and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. The man was his best friend but he hadn’t as much as smiled in Bones' direction in two weeks. They hadn’t spoken beyond what their jobs required of them either, and Bones was really starting to miss Jim’s voice.

You’ll have to stop the world just to stop the feeling. 

Those words repeated over and over again in Bones’s head as he stared at the ceiling of his quarters, unable to sleep despite how tired he was. He had never been big on sleeping. He was a hypocrite, he would berate anyone who was dumb enough to admit that they didn’t get a full eight hours each night, he would go on tirades about how studies suggest that human females actually need closer to ten hours of sleep each night, and even more than that when they were menstruating, he would remind everyone that being awake for twenty-four hours straight was equal to having a blood alcohol content of 0.10%, which was well over the legal limit for driving back on earth, and he would very much like whoever was controlling this death trap moving through space at light speed to be sober, thank you very much, all while knowing that he had only gotten about five hours the night before and was running on coffee and spite. 

Still, he was getting even less sleep than usual. He tried everything short of sedatives to put him to sleep since he had to be ready at a moment’s notice in case there was an emergency. He tried melatonin, herbal teas, limiting screen time before bed, limiting caffeine, changing all of the lights in his quarters to warm tinted bulbs, but none of it worked. He just couldn’t seem to get his brain to shut up long enough to get some actual rest. He only slept when he had exhausted himself with his tossing and turning so much that he finally passed out. Even then, he was still plagued with unsettled thoughts. He couldn’t stop reliving their last shore leave. 

Jim made a move on him. He had been trying his best to spin it any way he could, but so far everything that he had thought up was even more implausible than the truth, which was already pretty implausible in Bones’s opinion. Still, he was sure that there had to be something that he was missing. Maybe he had made up the whole thing, that thought crossed his mind from time to time, but it always fell away the moment he was around the Captain again and Jim refused to hold eye contact with him. 

He missed Jim and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. The man was his best friend but he hadn’t as much as smiled in Bones' direction in two weeks. They hadn’t spoken beyond what their jobs required of them either, and Bones was really starting to miss Jim’s voice. 

Some nights Bones just gave up on sleep altogether and went back to Sickbay to try to get some work done. Tonight seemed like one of those nights. 

With a heavy sign, Bones rolled out of bed. He wasn’t going to get any sleep anytime soon. He pulled on a fresh uniform and without a second thought made his way to his office. He could always go over the patient charts from the previous day and make sure there were no mistakes. Maybe he could take inventory of the condoms. With the way the people on this ship fucked, they were bound to run out soon. 

Bones had just sat down at his desk when his door wooshed open. In stumbled Ensign Chekov, a bit disheveled and in clothes that were definitely not part of his uniform. 

“Oh, hi Doctor!” Chekov said, his face flushing. 

“What are you doing here Ensign?” Bones asked, already annoyed. 

“Oh well I just came for one of these,” Chekov said, plucking a condom out of the bowl on Bones’s desk. “Nurse Chapel said I could just come in.” 

Bones had done his best to sneak by Chapel on his way in, so she probably didn’t realize he was in here. 

“Couldn’t you have gotten one from the box in the rec room and saved yourself the trouble of coming all the way here?” Bones asked. 

“Is empty,” Chekov said. Of course it was. Horny bastards. 

“I’ll put some more out later, is that all Ensign?” Bones asked. 

“Actually, no.” Of course it wasn’t, it never was. Chekov sat down across from Bones. “I was wondering, are you okay Doctor?” 

Dammit. This was the last conversation that Bones wanted to be having right now. Of course he wasn’t okay. His best friend hadn’t spoken to him in two weeks, he was lonely as hell, and something definitely happened on shore leave that he wasn’t sure he was ready to confront. Bones was prepared to tell Chekov to fuck off and mind his own business in the most professional way he could, but something stopped him. Maybe the lack of sleep was making him delirious, but he actually appreciated that somebody noticed that something was wrong with him. He sighed. 

“Just haven’t been sleeping well,” Bones replied. Of course he wasn’t going to get into the whole thing with the kid. He was young and obviously someone was waiting on him. Bones appreciated the concern but he knew that this wasn’t the kind of conversation that was appropriate for him to have with the teenage ensign. 

“I may know someone who can help you with that,” Chekov said, chewing on his lip. He looked nervous.

“What do you mean?” Bones decided to play dumb rather than jump to conclusions.

“I know someone who can give you something to help you sleep.”

“Uh, geeze, I mean, I appreciate it kid but I’ve tried just about every legal sleep aid and I don’t do sedatives or narcotics,” Bones said. If Chekov was gonna try to sell him drugs he would rather nip it in the bud rather than have to know exactly what it was he was selling. 

“Is not anything bad,” Chekov said, “my friend, he sells a sort of herbal remedy that may be less than legal. It will help.” Oh. More goddamn marijana. Bones wasn’t surprised, he had smelled it on the ship a few times. He suspected someone was growing it aboard but it was possible they were just buying it on shore leave and stocking up.

He thought for a bit. It was risky of course, and Bones might be a heavy drinker but he had never crossed over into drugs, that was until last shore leave. He supposed he didn’t die doing it once, how bad could a second time be that bad? And the lack of sleep was really starting to drive him crazy. If he continued drinking as much coffee as he had been for the last few weeks he would die an early death from a heart attack long before he could live to suffer through any potential consequences from the weed.

“Alright, what do I have to do?” He said finally. 

It turns out he was right, they were growing it on the ship. Mr. Sulu had a few plants in the botany lab. It was just enough of a mess in there that no one who actually cared seemed to notice. Bones left the botany lab right before alpha shift about twenty credits poorer, but with a ziploc bag of about an eighth of an ounce of dried green plant. His only issue now was that he had no way to ingest it. 

Bones had gone through all the trouble of buying drugs that he had no way of using. All because he couldn’t sleep. And why couldn’t he sleep? Because his best friend had flirted with him on some goddamn alien planet and he had been too much of a coward to do anything about it. 

Denial always kept Bones safe. It kept him from having to think about the things that he really did not want to think about, it forced him to deal with his problems at the last minute, that way he could shift the blame. Believing that his marriage ended suddenly because his wife decided she didn’t want to be with him anymore was less painful than admitting that he watched their relationship fall apart for years but was too stubborn to do anything to save it. He could tell himself that she cheated on him, and that her and her new man were the reason that he hadn’t seen his daughter in years because it was easier than admitting that he hadn’t tried to call his daughter in years. It protected him from risk and from what ifs and blame. If he never saw the problems coming, how could he be blamed?

He denied that every time Jim smiled at him he felt his stomach do a somersault. He denied that Jim saved him when he was a drunk, directionless mess. He denied that Jim was everything to him, he was everything that he wanted. 

Bones was so lonely. He was tired of being alone, tired of this weird tension with Jim, tired of pretending like they weren’t in love with each other. He was going to have to take a risk this time. He was miserable like this and he was on a ship catapulting through space, locked into a five year contract, there was nowhere to run. 

Bones went through the rest of alpha shift like normal. About five minutes before the shift ended he made his way to the bridge. His heart was pounding his chest and his palms were dripping sweat, which was almost enough to make him turn back, but he knew that this had to be done. The longer he waited the worse it would get. The same lyrics that had been repeating over and over again in his head echoed again: you’ll have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

The turbolift opened up onto the bridge. Bones froze as he caught sight of the back of Jim’s head. This was it. This was the moment, the one inevitable moment that would set into action the chain of events that Bones was most afraid of. He slipped out of the turbolift in the back of the room, waiting out the clock until Jim was ready to leave the bridge. 

Beta shift crew filed into the bridge one after the other, taking over for the alpha shift crew. Some stopped to chat for a moment, either asking about each other's day or explaining how the shift had gone so far. Finally, Jim stood. 

As he turned he caught Bones’s gaze for the first time in two weeks. Bones gave him a polite smile, but quickly dropped it. It felt unnatural. Jim seemed to hesitate, like he didn’t know if he should go over to Bones or just leave. Bones felt his heart quicken. He hadn’t thought through that option, he hadn’t imagined that Jim would just ignore him. Maybe he didn’t want to fix this? 

Too damn bad, Bones thought. They were going to see this through no matter what, even if that meant coming to a less desirable conclusion. Even if Jim decided he no longer wanted anything to do with Bones, that rejection would be better than whatever limbo they were in right now. 

Jim took mercy on Bones at last and came to stand in front of him, not quite making eye contact. He didn’t speak. 

“Can I come over tonight?” Bones asked in a low voice. It was all he could manage to get out. Jim nodded, still not making eye contact, then headed towards the turbolift. 

Bones was so anxious he couldn’t bring himself to eat anything for dinner. His appetite hadn’t suffered as much as his sleep had, but he certainly found himself not as interested in food these past few weeks. Instead, he had another cup of coffee and an almost nap for about an hour. 

He decided to bring the weed with him, maybe as a peace offering, maybe as a way to loosen himself and Jim up and get them back into that state that they were in when all of this started. The two of them hadn’t decided on a time, so Bones waited until he believed that Jim would reasonably be done with dinner and some post-shift relaxing. 

Bones made his way to Jim’s quarters, wearing the same outfit he had on in the bar that night. If the goal for tonight was for something to happen, then wearing this might be a start, since Bones figured that Jim liked the way he looked in it. 

As Bones hesitated outside of Jim’s door he mentally berated himself for acting so cowardly. There were a few, far less tolerant adjectives that came to his mind as a force of habit from growing up in the American South, but he reminded himself that it was that kind of thinking that almost cost him his relationship with his best friend. This was the twenty-third century after all. 

As Bones raised a hand to knock, someone behind him cleared their throat. He whipped around, only to come face to face with Jim. Not just Jim, sweaty Jim wearing his red workout leggings with just a towel draped over his shoulders. Bones’s breath caught in his throat as he tore his eyes up and down the man until they settled on his hair which had curled up into golden ringlets now that he sweated the product out. 

Silently, Jim pushed past him, opening the door. He held it open long enough to let Bones slide in behind him. 

“Listen, I’m gonna clean up quickly, then you can say whatever-”

“No,” Bones cut him off, startling himself with his forwardness, “no, we need to talk now, this can’t wait.” 

Jim looked somewhere between exasperated and impressed, but sat himself down on the edge of his bed. 

“I’m sorry,” Bones said, “I’m sorry about how that night went down. I wish I could do it all over again, I wasn’t ready then, but I’ve been thinking a lot and I’m ready now.” Tears welled in Bones’s eyes. 

“I’m just a man Jim, I can’t stop the world, I can’t stop this.” Jim was silent for a long term, staring at Bones with a scrutiny that would make lesser men crumble. Finally, he spoke. 

“Do you want to stop it?” He asked. 

“No,” Bones said before he even registered the question, “no Jim, I have thought through every possible version of that night, I have considered that you mistook me for someone else, that you were too high to know what you were saying, that you were playing some practical joke on me, but the reality that I always settle on is that you care about me, and Jim you are the most important person in my life, my best friend, the person I love the most. So no, I don’t want to stop anything, I want to live out the rest of my life with you, whether we are just friends or something more, I just want you.” 

“Do you want to just be friends or do you want to be more?” Jim stood up and took a couple steps towards Bones, crowding into his space. 

“I want to be more.” Bones had never even thought it to himself directly, let alone said it out loud until now, but it felt right. Jim was his whole life, it just made sense that he would want him this way too. 

“Okay, let’s be more than friends then.”

Good Luck, Bones!

Summary: Leonard McCoy could be the poster boy for denial. He was not delusional, he was always acutely aware of the truth, he just chose to believe that the truth was wrong, much to his detriment.

Leonard McCoy could be the poster boy for denial. He was not delusional, he was always acutely aware of the truth, he just chose to believe that the truth was wrong, much to his detriment. He denied that his marriage had problems which ultimately led to his divorce. He denied that he drank too much, even when he was chugging the last of the contents of his flask right before boarding his flight to Starfleet Academy. He knew his two day old clothes reeked of booze and sweat, but he was too drunk to care. By the time he sobered up, he was denying that the decision to join Starfleet was impulsive. 

When Bones signed on for the Enterprise’s five year mission, he denied that he was absolutely terrified of space travel. He denied the existential fear that leaving the planet instilled in him. He denied that he was a deadbeat dad, leaving his only daughter lightyears away to be raised by his ex and some other man. He denied how much that bothered him. 

Even with the first thirty something years of his life left behind, Bones was still familiar with denial. He had a certain idea of what kind of man he was. What he was feeling right now did not align with that image. 

They had stopped for a brief shore leave before heading back into deep space. Bones didn’t like shore leaves unless they were on Earth. As terrified as he was of space travel, he was even more so afraid of whatever germs and diseases he would encounter on a foreign planet. Fortunately, the planet they were on had a sizable human population which distracted from its natives that were decidedly more blue than humans.

Bones wasn’t looking at any of them though. He had his eyes focused on a man dancing in the center of the room. Every time he pulled them away, they drifted back the moment he was no longer consciously focusing on looking at everything and everyone but him.

 They were in a bar, more of a club really. Neon strobe lights bathed the dance floor in rainbows. Looking at them for too long gave Bones a headache. The whole planet was hot, but it was sweltering in here with all of the bodies packed together and all of the smoke hanging in the air. It turned out that this planet’s main export was marijuana, or some alien herb that had the same chemical compounds as marijuana, so rather than getting drunk, everyone was getting stoned. Bones hated smoking of any kind, so he stuck to what little alcohol they had behind the bar. Damn bartender looked at him like he had two heads when he asked for alcohol and no weed. It all felt very twenty-first century, which made sense since this was a retro themed club. The only thing Bones hated more than clubs were themed clubs. They were blasting two hundred year old pop music that made Bones cringe. Music had truly evolved so much in the last two centuries. He tried to focus in on the lyrics, hoping he could find some decent meaning in them.

It started with a whisper, and that was when I kissed her, and then she made my lips hurt, I could hear the chit-chat, take me to your love shack. 

That was enough for Bones. This music was trash.  

Bones sat alone in the corner of the room, trying to avoid as much secondhand smoke as possible as he nursed his watered down beer and watched his colleagues smoke and dance. Well, he was watching one in particular. 

It was hot, and the way that everyone was dressed reflected that. Short skirts, booty shorts, crop tops, no tops, and then there was Bones in his typical going out clothes, a gray v-neck and jeans. 

Even though he looked and felt so out of place, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. He couldn’t take his eyes off the dance floor. Right in the middle of the crowd was his Captain. He had a human man wearing nothing but tight red booty shorts pressed against his back and a blue woman wearing a denim skirt that was barely wider than a belt and bikini top against his front. There was barely any barrier between their skin. Jim was dressed a little more modestly, he was wearing denim shorts that didn’t show the bottom half of his ass cheeks and a white ribbed tank top, but still it wasn’t much. It made Bones’s stomach churn. 

His movements were fluid, not as clumsy as they were when he was drinking. His eyes were half lidded as he undulated to the music. He was in a trance, in his own little world, just him and the music and the bodies pressed up against him. The woman was pretty, but nothing special once you got past the blue skin and hair. The man was skinny and short, and not particularly attractive, at least not in Bones’s opinion. Jim could do much better, he was a well built man. A bit stocky, but muscular, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. His skin was toned and tan and always had a sheen to it that somehow didn’t make him look greasy, but healthy and virile. 

Bones chewed his lip as he wondered if Jim would go home with one or both of them tonight. Of course he would, what else is shore leave for? Sometimes living aboard the Enterprise felt like living through a teen drama, especially for Bones who had to perform every STI or pregnancy test on the droves of horny ensigns that made their way to sickbay every day. He couldn’t really blame them, after all, a bunch of fit, attractive people stuck in space together twenty-four seven? Of course there would be intra-crew relationships. When you had a higher rank, however, you had to be careful. It would be unethical, for example, for Bones to sleep with one of the other doctors or nurses since they were his subordinates, but engineering officers or bridge crew didn’t report to him, so that would be fine. The Captain however, outranked everyone on the ship, and everyone reported to him, so he couldn’t ethically sleep with anyone aboard the ship, which is why he should be free to enjoy his shore leaves without judgment. 

Not that Bones was judging of course. He had been known to occasionally hookup with a lady on shore leave every now and then. Tonight the thought of that made him feel nauseous. He had been approached a few times this evening already. The women here were stunning without exception. Many of them were just his type, tall, tanned, and curvy with long dark hair. He had always liked brunettes best, but tonight he found himself more interested in blondes. Something was obviously wrong with him. Maybe it had just been too long since he had been with anyone. Maybe he needed to get his hormone levels checked. He was getting older, testosterone usually started declining in a man’s forties. That had to be it. Nothing a hormone supplement wouldn’t fix.

Why couldn’t he take his eyes off of his Captain? He was worried about him, that was it. Jim had smoked a fair amount tonight, even from afar Bones could tell that his eyes were droopy and he was a little shaky on his feet. He was just worried that someone would take advantage of his intoxicated state, nothing more. 

Jim caught Bones staring at him and flashed him a lazy smile from across the dance floor. Bones suppressed the flutter in his gut at that sight. A moment later Jim was excusing himself from his dance partners and making his way over to Bones, the crowd jostling him slightly. 

“Heyyyy,” Jim said as he collapsed onto the seat beside bones. Up close Bones could see that the whites of his eyes had turned entirely pink and his pupils swallowed up all of the hazel. 

“You look stoned,” Bones grunted in response. Jim just giggled. 

“You don’t look like you’re having much fun tonight.” Jim slid closer to Bones until their knees brushed. 

“Not really my scene. I don’t smoke.”

“I don’t either usually, but once won’t kill me.”Jim pulled a joint out of his pocket and lit it up, being careful to blow the smoke away from Bones. He coughed a few times before going back in for another puff. 

“You’re gonna turn your lungs black, fill them with tar,” Bones scoffed. 

“Bones, for one night can you just be my friend, not my doctor,” Jim said with an eye roll, “you may find that having fun won’t kill you.”

“I can have my fun without drugs, thank you very much.” 

“Cut the D.A.R.E. shit Bones, you drink more than anyone else I know.” Jim’s words were critical, but his tone was decidedly teasing. 

“S’pose so.” Bones took another sip of the piss that this place was passing off as alcohol. Jim took another puff of his joint.

Bones found himself wondering what it tasted like. His eyes caught on Jim’s bottom lip. His mouth probably tasted like burnt rolling papers and faint skunky herb. He had no desire to get high but he wanted to taste it. He reached out halfway to grab the joint. Jim hesitated.

“It can be pretty overpowering the first time,” Jim said. He looked like he was thinking for a moment before his face lit up with a devious smile that made Bones’s heart flutter. “Here, I know what I can do to make it less harsh.” 

Jim stood and stepped close to Bones, using his knees to spread the Doctor’s legs. Bones couldn’t help the breath that hitched in his throat at the sudden proximity between them. He felt a twitch coming from his trousers, but quickly suppressed it. 

Jim brought the joint to his mouth and took a long drag, then he leaned down to Bones’s mouth that hung agape and he connected their lips, blowing the smoke from his lungs into his companion’s. Bones instinctively inhaled as he fought the urge to follow Jim’s mouth as he pulled away. 

All was blissful for about half a second until Bones exhaled and began a coughing fit like none he had ever had before. His eyes crossed a little and he found himself unable to open his eyelids for a few seconds. When his coughing subsided, Jim handed him his beer to soothe the burning in his throat. 

“How was that?” Jim asked. 

“That was something,” Bones managed to grunt. Jim laughed and took another puff before putting the joint out in one of the ashtrays that adorned every surface.

“I’m guessing that was your first time,” Jim said, grin widening as he blinked away the smoke that was making its way through his body. Bones just grunted in response. 

“My first was in high school. One of my friends took a joint from his older sister’s dresser. We smoked it in his treehouse,” Jim looked into Bones’s eyes, his demeanor growing more serious just then, “that wasn’t my only first time that night.” 

This couldn’t be happening. Obviously Bones was much higher than he thought and was hallucinating. Maybe the joint was laced with something. There was no way that Jim, his best friend, his captain, the man he would walk to the ends of the earth with, was really acting so suggestively towards him. And there was no way he liked it. There was no way he could feel his stomach twisting and little Bones beginning to stand at attention. 

“Do you wanna dance with me?” Jim asked. Bones could tell what Jim was asking him, even through his slight haze Bones could see the signs. Jim was blushing, sweating, and avoiding direct eye contact. This was more than just an invitation for two friends to dance. 

This was one of those make or break moments. The butterflies in his stomach screamed yes, that Bones hadn’t been able to focus on anyone but his best friend all night, that no matter how much he pushed the thoughts and dreams of Jim out of his mind, no matter how many times he told himself he was just getting his wired crossed, he was just going a little stir crazy aboard the ship and misinterpreting his feelings, that despite all of that he couldn’t deny what he was feeling anymore. He couldn’t deny that he was feeling something. 

“Uh, no thanks. I think I’m gonna head back for the night,” were the words that escaped Bones’s mouth. He couldn’t bring himself to give in. He couldn’t bring himself to give up the denial that had been protecting him his whole life. Jim’s face fell. 

“Right, of course, it’s getting late,” he said, forcing a smile, “good luck, Bones.” Jim left Bones alone once again and returned to the people he had been dancing with before, only this time he looked far less enthusiastic. 

Bones had to get out of there. He chugged what was left of his beer and slipped out the door without a second glance to the dance floor.

Even outside he could hear the music from the club as he walked back to the hotel. 

It’s fine, it’s cool, you can say that we are nothing but you know the truth.

Bones paused to catch his breath for a moment. Now that the sun had gone down, it was cooler outside. He breathed deeply, enjoying the respite from the stuffy club air. He hadn’t realized how oppressive it was until he filled his lungs with clean, smoke free air. He sniffed his shirt and immediately wrinkled his nose. He smelled like stale pot. 

I don't wanna call it off, but you don’t wanna call it love, you only wanna be the one that I call baby.

For the first time all night, the club was actually playing decent music. Bones listened harder. 

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling, you can say it’s just the way you are, make a new excuse, another stupid reason, good luck, babe!

Jim’s last words rang in Bones’s head. “Good luck, Bones”. Good luck with what? At first he thought Jim was wishing him good luck getting home safe. Did he mean something else?

You’ll have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

Bones had enough. He was tired, tipsy, a little high, and most of all, not ready to confront whatever the universe seemed to want him to confront. He began the short walk back to his hotel room alone.

[noiseyburlesquepeach]

Good Luck, Bones!

Summary: Leonard McCoy could be the poster boy for denial. He was not delusional, he was always acutely aware of the truth, he just chose to believe that the truth was wrong, much to his detriment.

Leonard McCoy could be the poster boy for denial. He was not delusional, he was always acutely aware of the truth, he just chose to believe that the truth was wrong, much to his detriment. He denied that his marriage had problems which ultimately led to his divorce. He denied that he drank too much, even when he was chugging the last of the contents of his flask right before boarding his flight to Starfleet Academy. He knew his two day old clothes reeked of booze and sweat, but he was too drunk to care. By the time he sobered up, he was denying that the decision to join Starfleet was impulsive. 

When Bones signed on for the Enterprise’s five year mission, he denied that he was absolutely terrified of space travel. He denied the existential fear that leaving the planet instilled in him. He denied that he was a deadbeat dad, leaving his only daughter lightyears away to be raised by his ex and some other man. He denied how much that bothered him. 

Even with the first thirty something years of his life left behind, Bones was still familiar with denial. He had a certain idea of what kind of man he was. What he was feeling right now did not align with that image. 

They had stopped for a brief shore leave before heading back into deep space. Bones didn’t like shore leaves unless they were on Earth. As terrified as he was of space travel, he was even more so afraid of whatever germs and diseases he would encounter on a foreign planet. Fortunately, the planet they were on had a sizable human population which distracted from its natives that were decidedly more blue than humans.

Bones wasn’t looking at any of them though. He had his eyes focused on a man dancing in the center of the room. Every time he pulled them away, they drifted back the moment he was no longer consciously focusing on looking at everything and everyone but him.

 They were in a bar, more of a club really. Neon strobe lights bathed the dance floor in rainbows. Looking at them for too long gave Bones a headache. The whole planet was hot, but it was sweltering in here with all of the bodies packed together and all of the smoke hanging in the air. It turned out that this planet’s main export was marijuana, or some alien herb that had the same chemical compounds as marijuana, so rather than getting drunk, everyone was getting stoned. Bones hated smoking of any kind, so he stuck to what little alcohol they had behind the bar. Damn bartender looked at him like he had two heads when he asked for alcohol and no weed. It all felt very twenty-first century, which made sense since this was a retro themed club. The only thing Bones hated more than clubs were themed clubs. They were blasting two hundred year old pop music that made Bones cringe. Music had truly evolved so much in the last two centuries. He tried to focus in on the lyrics, hoping he could find some decent meaning in them.

It started with a whisper, and that was when I kissed her, and then she made my lips hurt, I could hear the chit-chat, take me to your love shack. 

That was enough for Bones. This music was trash.  

Bones sat alone in the corner of the room, trying to avoid as much secondhand smoke as possible as he nursed his watered down beer and watched his colleagues smoke and dance. Well, he was watching one in particular. 

It was hot, and the way that everyone was dressed reflected that. Short skirts, booty shorts, crop tops, no tops, and then there was Bones in his typical going out clothes, a gray v-neck and jeans. 

Even though he looked and felt so out of place, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. He couldn’t take his eyes off the dance floor. Right in the middle of the crowd was his Captain. He had a human man wearing nothing but tight red booty shorts pressed against his back and a blue woman wearing a denim skirt that was barely wider than a belt and bikini top against his front. There was barely any barrier between their skin. Jim was dressed a little more modestly, he was wearing denim shorts that didn’t show the bottom half of his ass cheeks and a white ribbed tank top, but still it wasn’t much. It made Bones’s stomach churn. 

His movements were fluid, not as clumsy as they were when he was drinking. His eyes were half lidded as he undulated to the music. He was in a trance, in his own little world, just him and the music and the bodies pressed up against him. The woman was pretty, but nothing special once you got past the blue skin and hair. The man was skinny and short, and not particularly attractive, at least not in Bones’s opinion. Jim could do much better, he was a well built man. A bit stocky, but muscular, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. His skin was toned and tan and always had a sheen to it that somehow didn’t make him look greasy, but healthy and virile. 

Bones chewed his lip as he wondered if Jim would go home with one or both of them tonight. Of course he would, what else is shore leave for? Sometimes living aboard the Enterprise felt like living through a teen drama, especially for Bones who had to perform every STI or pregnancy test on the droves of horny ensigns that made their way to sickbay every day. He couldn’t really blame them, after all, a bunch of fit, attractive people stuck in space together twenty-four seven? Of course there would be intra-crew relationships. When you had a higher rank, however, you had to be careful. It would be unethical, for example, for Bones to sleep with one of the other doctors or nurses since they were his subordinates, but engineering officers or bridge crew didn’t report to him, so that would be fine. The Captain however, outranked everyone on the ship, and everyone reported to him, so he couldn’t ethically sleep with anyone aboard the ship, which is why he should be free to enjoy his shore leaves without judgment. 

Not that Bones was judging of course. He had been known to occasionally hookup with a lady on shore leave every now and then. Tonight the thought of that made him feel nauseous. He had been approached a few times this evening already. The women here were stunning without exception. Many of them were just his type, tall, tanned, and curvy with long dark hair. He had always liked brunettes best, but tonight he found himself more interested in blondes. Something was obviously wrong with him. Maybe it had just been too long since he had been with anyone. Maybe he needed to get his hormone levels checked. He was getting older, testosterone usually started declining in a man’s forties. That had to be it. Nothing a hormone supplement wouldn’t fix.

Why couldn’t he take his eyes off of his Captain? He was worried about him, that was it. Jim had smoked a fair amount tonight, even from afar Bones could tell that his eyes were droopy and he was a little shaky on his feet. He was just worried that someone would take advantage of his intoxicated state, nothing more. 

Jim caught Bones staring at him and flashed him a lazy smile from across the dance floor. Bones suppressed the flutter in his gut at that sight. A moment later Jim was excusing himself from his dance partners and making his way over to Bones, the crowd jostling him slightly. 

“Heyyyy,” Jim said as he collapsed onto the seat beside bones. Up close Bones could see that the whites of his eyes had turned entirely pink and his pupils swallowed up all of the hazel. 

“You look stoned,” Bones grunted in response. Jim just giggled. 

“You don’t look like you’re having much fun tonight.” Jim slid closer to Bones until their knees brushed. 

“Not really my scene. I don’t smoke.”

“I don’t either usually, but once won’t kill me.”Jim pulled a joint out of his pocket and lit it up, being careful to blow the smoke away from Bones. He coughed a few times before going back in for another puff. 

“You’re gonna turn your lungs black, fill them with tar,” Bones scoffed. 

“Bones, for one night can you just be my friend, not my doctor,” Jim said with an eye roll, “you may find that having fun won’t kill you.”

“I can have my fun without drugs, thank you very much.” 

“Cut the D.A.R.E. shit Bones, you drink more than anyone else I know.” Jim’s words were critical, but his tone was decidedly teasing. 

“S’pose so.” Bones took another sip of the piss that this place was passing off as alcohol. Jim took another puff of his joint.

Bones found himself wondering what it tasted like. His eyes caught on Jim’s bottom lip. His mouth probably tasted like burnt rolling papers and faint skunky herb. He had no desire to get high but he wanted to taste it. He reached out halfway to grab the joint. Jim hesitated.

“It can be pretty overpowering the first time,” Jim said. He looked like he was thinking for a moment before his face lit up with a devious smile that made Bones’s heart flutter. “Here, I know what I can do to make it less harsh.” 

Jim stood and stepped close to Bones, using his knees to spread the Doctor’s legs. Bones couldn’t help the breath that hitched in his throat at the sudden proximity between them. He felt a twitch coming from his trousers, but quickly suppressed it. 

Jim brought the joint to his mouth and took a long drag, then he leaned down to Bones’s mouth that hung agape and he connected their lips, blowing the smoke from his lungs into his companion’s. Bones instinctively inhaled as he fought the urge to follow Jim’s mouth as he pulled away. 

All was blissful for about half a second until Bones exhaled and began a coughing fit like none he had ever had before. His eyes crossed a little and he found himself unable to open his eyelids for a few seconds. When his coughing subsided, Jim handed him his beer to soothe the burning in his throat. 

“How was that?” Jim asked. 

“That was something,” Bones managed to grunt. Jim laughed and took another puff before putting the joint out in one of the ashtrays that adorned every surface.

“I’m guessing that was your first time,” Jim said, grin widening as he blinked away the smoke that was making its way through his body. Bones just grunted in response. 

“My first was in high school. One of my friends took a joint from his older sister’s dresser. We smoked it in his treehouse,” Jim looked into Bones’s eyes, his demeanor growing more serious just then, “that wasn’t my only first time that night.” 

This couldn’t be happening. Obviously Bones was much higher than he thought and was hallucinating. Maybe the joint was laced with something. There was no way that Jim, his best friend, his captain, the man he would walk to the ends of the earth with, was really acting so suggestively towards him. And there was no way he liked it. There was no way he could feel his stomach twisting and little Bones beginning to stand at attention. 

“Do you wanna dance with me?” Jim asked. Bones could tell what Jim was asking him, even through his slight haze Bones could see the signs. Jim was blushing, sweating, and avoiding direct eye contact. This was more than just an invitation for two friends to dance. 

This was one of those make or break moments. The butterflies in his stomach screamed yes, that Bones hadn’t been able to focus on anyone but his best friend all night, that no matter how much he pushed the thoughts and dreams of Jim out of his mind, no matter how many times he told himself he was just getting his wired crossed, he was just going a little stir crazy aboard the ship and misinterpreting his feelings, that despite all of that he couldn’t deny what he was feeling anymore. He couldn’t deny that he was feeling something. 

“Uh, no thanks. I think I’m gonna head back for the night,” were the words that escaped Bones’s mouth. He couldn’t bring himself to give in. He couldn’t bring himself to give up the denial that had been protecting him his whole life. Jim’s face fell. 

“Right, of course, it’s getting late,” he said, forcing a smile, “good luck, Bones.” Jim left Bones alone once again and returned to the people he had been dancing with before, only this time he looked far less enthusiastic. 

Bones had to get out of there. He chugged what was left of his beer and slipped out the door without a second glance to the dance floor.

Even outside he could hear the music from the club as he walked back to the hotel. 

It’s fine, it’s cool, you can say that we are nothing but you know the truth.

Bones paused to catch his breath for a moment. Now that the sun had gone down, it was cooler outside. He breathed deeply, enjoying the respite from the stuffy club air. He hadn’t realized how oppressive it was until he filled his lungs with clean, smoke free air. He sniffed his shirt and immediately wrinkled his nose. He smelled like stale pot. 

I don't wanna call it off, but you don’t wanna call it love, you only wanna be the one that I call baby.

For the first time all night, the club was actually playing decent music. Bones listened harder. 

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling, you can say it’s just the way you are, make a new excuse, another stupid reason, good luck, babe!

Jim’s last words rang in Bones’s head. “Good luck, Bones”. Good luck with what? At first he thought Jim was wishing him good luck getting home safe. Did he mean something else?

You’ll have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

Bones had enough. He was tired, tipsy, a little high, and most of all, not ready to confront whatever the universe seemed to want him to confront. He began the short walk back to his hotel room alone.

[noiseyburlesquepeach]

Hold me close (and calm my nerves)

Summary:

“You should be asleep,” Aragorn said.

“I do not sleep well without you,” Arwen replied. She traced her hands over his chest and stomach, lightly massaging the muscles there. “You are stressed, my love, you have been for far too long. Will you allow me to care for you?”

“You need not my lady. It is not your burden to bear.”

“I am your wife, your queen. It is my responsibility to care for you when you are too busy caring for others to look after yourself.”

Aragorn did not reply but relaxed deeper into his wife’s touch, allowing her probing hands to melt his tension away.

“I know what you need, my love,” she said, “come to bed with me.”

Hold me close and calm my nerves

Ruling Gondor was no easy task, even for a man as capable as Aragorn. Restoring a kingdom to its former glory was stressful. Long days were followed by sleepless nights. Even with the help of Faramir as the Steward, there was just simply too much to do, and relaxing was difficult when there were constantly new issues popping up that took up far too much of his mental energy, even in his leisure time. 

When Aragorn returned to his room that night, it was already far later than he had intended to stay up. No doubt his wife would be sound asleep in their bed, as she had been every night for these past two weeks. He slipped the door open and found only a single lantern burning low on Arwen’s nightstand, just like every other night. 

Aragorn slipped his boots and clothes off, and was about to pull on his sleep clothes when two warm arms snaked around his middle. He jumped, then settled, as he recognized the embrace of his lover. 

“You should be asleep,” Aragorn said.

“I do not sleep well without you,” Arwen replied. She traced her hands over his chest and stomach, lightly massaging the muscles there. “You are stressed, my love, you have been for far too long. Will you allow me to care for you?”

“You need not my lady. It is not your burden to bear.” 

“I am your wife, your queen. It is my responsibility to care for you when you are too busy caring for others to look after yourself.” 

Aragorn did not reply but relaxed deeper into his wife’s touch, allowing her probing hands to melt his tension away. 

“I know what you need, my love,” she said, “come to bed with me.” 

Aragorn nodded and turned in his lover’s embrace. He allowed himself to be led to their bed and pushed onto his back. They had done this many times before, less so since Arwen had fallen pregnant, but enough that his muscle memory carried him through the motions of getting situated. 

Arwen joined him on the bed just a moment later. She had opened her silk robe so that it hung loosely off of her shoulders, exposing her body from her collar bones, to her hips where the leather strap that held the marble phallus that they had made specially for this sat, and the rest of the way down to her toes. 

Aragorn stroked the tiny bulge where she was carrying their child as his wife settled between his thighs. She was not too far along at all, in fact, when she was dressed one would not even know that she was with child from the front. It was only from the side that their child could be seen. And now that she was completely exposed, Aragorn could see where her stomach was distended from the life she was growing within. 

As Arwen’s belly swelled, so did Aragorn’s heart as he thought of starting a family with his beloved. She carried the future of Gondor in her womb. 

Arwen smiled and allowed Aragorn to indulge himself just a moment before she took his wrists in either hand and pinned them gently to the mattress behind him. He allowed her to do so, he always did, despite being far stronger than her. He could easily fight back and take control of the situation, but that was not what this was about. This was about Aragorn giving in to the gentle control that Arwen had over his body. 

She didn’t tie him down, she didn’t need to. She had before, when they were both in better spirits, and Aragorn wanted to be roughed up a bit, when he felt like being a brat. When they went slow like this though, Aragorn knew not to move his wrists unless Arwen gave permission, so she felt no need to actually restrain him.

“You carry the weight of our kingdom on your shoulders, allow me to carry the weight of your pleasure for the night,” Arwen said. She leaned forward and kissed her husband deeply, caressing his thighs as she did so. He trembled ever so slightly underneath her, the force of his tension leaving his body sending tremors through him. One of her hands withdrew from his body, only to return a moment later, this time slick with oil and probing gently at his puckered hole. 

His breath hitched and he struggled to keep his hips from bucking as Arwen traced the tight ring with two soft fingertips. His wife knew his body so well, she could play him like a flute. She knew exactly what places made his vision white out with pleasure. 

Arwen pulls back just a fraction of an inch to look into Aragorn’s eyes. She saw them shining up at him, filled with adoration and love for his queen, his goddess, his wife. Tears welled at the edges when she finally pushed in. He let out a shaky sigh of relief as he was breached. He needed this so badly, and Arwen was here to give it to him. 

“Just like that, you take my fingers so well,” she cooed as she added a second finger, crooking the two of them inside him and scissoring them apart. 

Aragorn let out a broken whine as she hit that little spot that always made his eyes roll up into his skull. 

“There we go, you like that do you not?” Aragorn nodded. “Good boy, always such a good boy for me, beloved.”

“Do not tease me love, I can not take it tonight,” Aragorn panted. 

“I am not teasing. I am telling you what you need to hear. I know how it makes you feel when I praise you, I can see it in your eyes, in your body. Do not fret my love, I am happy to give you this. I will do whatever I can to bring you pleasure because you deserve it, my beautiful Elessar.” 

Aragorn blinked a few times, the tears that formed in his eyes spilling onto his cheeks. Arwen leaned down and kissed the tears away, stroking her free hand soothingly over his ribs. Were it another night she might have shushed him, told him there was no need to cry. Tonight she let him cry, and did not try to stop the tears. She simply brushed them away. 

“Arwen, dearest, it is not enough, please, I need you. I need your cock,” Aragorn begged. 

“Hush darling, I do not wish to hurt you, only to pleasure you.” 

“Please, I cannot take this teasing, you will not hurt me I promise! My love I will simply die if you do not get inside of me!” 

Arwen liked hearing her husband beg for her, in fact, she delighted in it. There were nights, especially at the beginning of her relationship when she would draw out his pleas for hours until he shook with want, but she knew that neither of them had the patience for that tonight.

“Alright,” Arwen conceded. She withdrew her fingers, drawing a little hiss from Aragorn. She drizzled a bit of oil into her free hand and rubbed it over the phallus, then she pressed the tip against Aragorn’s opening. She flicked her eyes up to his, searching for consent. She got a nod in response, and she pushed in slowly until her hips were flush against her husband’s backside. 

Aragorn let out a strangled moan that Arwen swallowed with a kiss. She began rocking her hips ever so slightly, searching for that spot that Aragorn liked so much. He shivered as the friction of her movements rubbed her swollen belly against his aching cock. 

“O-oh so good!” Aragorn shivered, his hands itching to reach up and hold onto his wife. He had not gotten permission yet, so instead he clung to the sheets for dear life. Arwen smiled as she watched, and allowed him to struggle for just a moment longer before she tapped his wrists to silently let him know that he could move them. 

Aragorn’s hands flew to Arwen’s shoulders the moment he was released from his invisible bonds. His fingers scrabbled for purchase in the soft fabric of her robe as she continued to batter his sweet spot. His eyes slipped closed as wave after wave of pleasure wracked through his body. It was all too much, the stretch of the toy inside him, the constant pressure against his prostate, the praise that Arwen continued to whisper in his ear. It was too much, yet not enough at the same time. 

“My love,” Aragorn panted, “I ngh I need oh oh! ”

“What was that? What is it that you need darling?” Arwen asked, lips quirking up at her husband’s inability to form a coherent sentence.”

“Please touch me, please, I need it!”

“I am touching you,” she teased, punctuating her sentence with a snap of her hips that drove the marble phallus even deeper into Aragorn’s body and drawing a yelp that turned into a moan from his throat. “You’ll have to be more specific darling, where do you want me to touch you?” 

“You know exactly where I want you to touch me, don’t tease love,” Aragorn huffed. 

“You need to say it. Good boys use their words and only good boys get to finish.”

“My cock, please Arwen, touch my cock!”

“Of course my pet, all you needed to do was ask.” Arwen drizzled some oil into her palm and took him in her slick fist, pumping in time with her thrusts.

Aragorn let out a noise that was half moan and half relieved sigh as he canted his hips up to meet Arwen’s thrusts. She was ramming into him so deeply now with every thrust her hips pressed flush against his backside and her stomach rubbed against his tight sac. 

“There we go, you are getting so close, love, aren’t you? Do you want to finish? Do you want to come?” Arwen asked.

“Please,” Aragorn whimpered. His head was thrown back against the pillows and his chest was heaving with every spike of pleasure that shot through his spine. “Arwen, my darling, my treasure, I need you to kiss me. I can’t finish until you kiss me. Please love.”

Arwen smiled at how pretty her boy was when he begged. She could feel him getting so close, just barely teetering on the edge of release, so she leaned down and pressed their lips together. She stopped thrusting her hips in favor of grinding against his prostate and the hand on his cock sped up just a tad. Just like that, Aragorn was coming. Arwen did not let up her assault on his prostate or his cock, she fucked and stroked him nice and slow through his orgasm as she swallowed all of his moans. 

When he was done, Arwen slid out of Aragorn and unhooked the leather strap, dropping it gently to the floor below. She laid next to him on her side with her head propped up on her elbow. By the time she had settled, Aragorn had mostly come down from his high and was smiling at her. 

“Thank you my love, I needed that,” Aragorn said. Arwen smiled back at him and swiped two fingers through the mess he had made across his taut abdomen. She brought her fingers to his lips and he sucked them in greedily, moaning at the taste of himself. 

“You did very well tonight my pet, I’m so proud of you,” Arwen said. Once her fingers were clean she brought them down to Aragorn’s stomach again, and gathered more spunk before bringing them back to her husband’s lips. 

This continued until he was all clean. By then Arwen was quite aroused from the show that Aragorn had put on and the sensation of his tongue on her fingers. Aragorn must have been able to tell, or perhaps he just knew her so well that he assumed, because soon he was sitting up. 

“Allow me to return the favor love,” he said as he stroked a hand over her stomach, “how would you like me to pleasure you tonight?” Arwen thought for a moment before pushing Aragorn onto his back.

“I wish to sit on your face tonight,” Arwen replied as she straddled the man’s chest. This was not her favorite position, as sitting in it for too long caused her legs to cramp up, but she was not supposed to lay on her back while with child, so it would have to do for tonight. 

Aragorn on the other hand loved this position. The first time they tried it Arwen held most of her weight up on her own, not wanting to suffocate her lover. Aragorn quickly decided he would have none of that though, he pulled her down by her hips and encouraged her to ride his face as hard as she desired. He had survived several battles against the forces of Sauron, he was hardly going to break because his wife sat on his face a little too hard. That was probably the third best day of his life, after his wedding day and when they found out that Arwen was pregnant. Aragorn couldn't help but drool a little when he thought of it. 

He was pulled from his thoughts by Arwen walking her knees up until she was straddling his head. She looked down into his eyes for confirmation, which was a bit difficult with her belly in the way. He smiled back up at her and gave a single nod while he tugged her hips down, not hard enough to actually move her, just enough to encourage her to sit down on her own. Then Aragorn licked a stripe from her hole all the way up to her clit as further encouragement. She shivered and sat down until her sensitive sex was positioned right above his mouth. 

Aragorn wasted no time diving right in. He licked and sucked the sensitive nub while Arwen rocked back and forth, smearing her slick all around his mouth and chin and nose. It was not going to take much to finish her off at this pace, especially after Aragorn had put on such a pretty show for her earlier. She was already trembling and absolutely soaked under his touch. 

Just moments later she was coming with a whine, her hands tangled in Aragorn’s dark locks as her entire lower half pulsed and quivered. Aragorn held her hips through the whole thing, careful to keep her from falling over. 

When the aftershocks had mostly subsided, Arwen laid back down on her side and rested her head on her husband’s chest. The two of them were spent and sated and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep together. Aragorn wiped his mouth off on the corner of the sheet below him, then pulled said sheet over himself and his wife. He pressed a few sweet kisses to her forehead and before putting the lantern out and settling down for the night. 

“When you are out there governing your kingdom and fighting your battles, remember that this is what you are doing it all for,” Arwen whispered, taking Aragorn’s hand and pressing it to her stomach. “You are doing it for him. He will be a great King some day, but only if he has a good role model to look up to. Do not light yourself on fire to keep your people warm. He needs you to be here for him, and in order for that to happen you need to take care of yourself.”

“I know love, I promise I will try harder from now on.”

“That is all I can ask of you my King.” 

A comfortable silence fell over them, and for a moment Arwen thought that Aragorn had fallen asleep until he spoke again.

“How can you be sure that he is a boy?” Aragorn asked. 

“My Adar had a vision of our son. His visions are rarely wrong,” Arwen said, “plus it is all in the way I carry. The baby sits lower down in my body, that usually means it will be a boy.”

“Boy or girl I will love them all the same,” Aragorn said with a contented sigh. 

“As will I,” Arwen replied, “now sleep, your kingdom needs you at full strength.”