(Set between Star Trek 2009 an' Into Darkness)

Captain James T. Kirk was sitting at a bar encompassed by one of many establishments in San Francisco in the general vicinity of Starfleet Academy that both served alcohol and housed women (if that wasn't all of them, anyway). This particular venue was perhaps unique, though, in that it was one of the few not regularly frequented by cadets from the nearby Academy, Kirk excepted, maybe. He himself didn't come here often, actually, not really feeling the need to socialize with the locals of the city except perhaps when he felt like- socializing with them.

Kirk's eyes took another sweep of the room, reaffirming for him the fact that nobody here knew him, not personally, anyway. He was probably the most recognizable cadet as of late, after he had taken command of the Enterprise and such, so maybe someone here might recognize him. But nobody here knew him, anyway.

For this he was rather thankful because, at the current moment, Kirk didn't want to be talking to anyone, really, or anything of the like. In all honesty, all he really wanted to do was get drunk and forget things. There was a part of him that ached for space in the times that he wasn't busy with something or other, like right now- ached for empty skies and darkness and- unfamiliarity. Things unknown. This place couldn't come close to making him feel like that, but it did something for the desire, at least.

The things he wanted to forget- how he'd oh so nearly kissed his first officer on the mouth the other day before coming to his senses- there was Uhura, not to mention the fact that Spock didn't like him like that- and how he hadn't seen his mother or brother since before his "adventure" and missed them, how when he would sit like this at bars, sipping a drink of something, anything, his mind so often wandered to the incidents in which he'd come so close to dying. His mouth twitched into a nearly imperceptible, grim smile when he realized that this was happening just now, even. The cadet shook his head at himself, looked up again, took a drink from the glass he'd been holding with one hand. He was thinking too much.

Kirk eyed a girl sitting two stools down from him, then smiled at her when she looked back. He looked away for a moment and when he turned back he was watching her being led away by another woman. She had strong-looking hands, he decided. He sighed.

A shadow sat down on his other side, and Kirk took a sip of his drink so that he might surreptitiously glance to his left at the newcomer while doing so.

"Hey, Kirk." It was Pike.

Kirk found himself almost spitting what he'd just ingested back into the glass he held. The cadet and newly promoted captain turned in his seat slightly as to not be completely turned away from the admiral. He didn't entirely turn to face the older man full on, though. He wasn't, of course, feeling very... friendly.

Nevertheless, an almost forced smile stretched the captain's lips as he eyed Christopher Pike. "What're you doin' here, admiral? Don't have any official-type work to do...?"

Pike realized that his subordinate was already slightly drunk; enough to be more casual than was perhaps appropriate with him, although, outside the Academy, maybe it didn't matter as much. Kirk was definitely a little out of it, though. The admiral raised his eyebrows at the captain.

"Not today," he answered smoothly. He watched as Kirk took another drink, this one perhaps just a bit more sloppily done than the last. He eyed the blonde carefully, unconsciously examining him for signs of PTSD and such. "Kirk... is something going on?" he asked, his face suddenly softer. He moved to turn Kirk's stool more toward himself, brushing the cadet's thigh in the process. Did Kirk notice? He wasn't sure.

The younger man's eyes seemed to darken. For a moment he just looked at Pike, lips ever so slightly parted, as if he were on the verge of saying something but didn't know what. He opened his mouth and words started tumbling out. The admiral eyed Kirk's hands as he listened.

"I feel sort of... cheated," Kirk said slowly, not really knowing where he was going but starting there anyway. He didn't want to start talking about his feelings as if Pike were his counselor or something. But there was something inside of him that aimed to talk its way out of him, and as he took another drink from the glass and eyed his shoes with sudden, irrational interest, the something started talking again.

"See, if this really is an alternate reality, or whatever, from the 'real one', the one where I... knew my dad... why does it have to be like this?" He was still avoiding Pike's gaze, and running a hand through his hair, uncharacteristically anxious. The admiral noticed. "We- we save Earth, we blow up the bad guys, but everything, all the shit he did before... It's still all broken. And that's..." Kirk looked up finally. "You think... we could've fixed it?" Pike didn't say anything.

"I dunno..." Kirk muttered, a little frustrated. "I don't."

Pike found himself reaching for the cadet with a hesitant hand, meaning to touch his shoulder, suddenly thinking of the blonde's thighs and ending up with his fingers resting on Kirk's (admittedly muscular) arm. "Kirk..."

What was there to say? There weren't words that could fix the slight shakiness he felt holding onto the captain's arm- he'd learned, in classes, as a cadet, how one Starfleet officer might comfort another in times of grief. And yet, that didn't seem right.

Kirk's eyelashes fluttered and for a moment he shut his eyes entirely, suddenly weary, or maybe just realizing now that he had been all along. He opened his eyes, frowned just a little, took another drink. Almost gone. He contemplated asking for another.

Guessing this, Pike shook his head slightly in response to that thought. "Come on, Kirk, you look tired as hell. I'll take you back," he said, hand moving to the captain's as he, at the same time, dropped a few bills on the bar's counter. Kirk's fingers lingered on the empty glass he'd been holding before they caught empty air, and then the chill of night air as he and Pike stepped outside, the bar's door swinging closed behind them.

He didn't let go of Kirk's hand. The captain, more alert now, thought about this in the silence. It was dark, so nobody'd see. And what was there to see? But they were holding hands, and somehow it seemed like more than what it looked like, to him, anyway. He'd done this before with dozens of people but this was different, if not just slightly off, by a certain amount of degrees or something.

"Admiral," he said rather quietly, not turning his head. When Pike did so with a "Yes?", Kirk said nothing for a moment and then, with somewhat of a grin, "I swear you're the only man I know that I end up meeting so often outside of school, in places like that."

Pike snorted, releasing Kirk's hand as the prior moment passed. "Yeah, well..." Maybe he liked to keep tabs on the kid. Maybe he felt responsible for him, a little bit. Maybe it was something other than that. "As much as it might scare me, we might be a little alike, you and I. Kirk." He turned his head to look at the younger man, eyebrows raised again.

"Maybe." Kirk smiled too, his steps more of a jaunt now. "Maybe sometime we should just meet up on purpose or something." Smoothly, casually, he tossed out the bait, unconsciously holding his breath until the admiral answered. Pike slowed, almost stopping altogether.

"Are you asking me out, Kirk?" He opted to avoid any sort of awkward misunderstanding and, rather, just put it out there. He wasn't old enough to be the kid's father or anything (unless one stretched the idea just a bit)- but he wasn't a cadet, either, not nearly. This aside from the fact that Kirk was already a captain, and had matured substantially over the years he'd known the kid, especially most recently.

When he realized that he was actually considering it, he wanted to laugh at himself. Did he really want to become another one of Kirk's conquests- he, an admiral, a man, a man more than twenty years older than the captain?

He figured the look the cadet was giving him, it was the same thing he'd used to get countless other people into his bed or- wherever, anyway, but knowing this didn't deter Pike from being turned on by it. The admiral eyed his subordinate as if examining him for any noticeable faults he'd somehow missed over the years. There were none, of course.

"Okay," he said simply. Neither of them were moving anymore, except for Kirk, who moved a hand to touch Pike's grayish hair and then trace down the side of the admiral's face. The older man felt himself blushing at this, irrationally (because why would he do that? This was Kirk.) He stepped back, anyway- they were just outside of the Academy, standing there, and there was no need to do anything that might attract any stray cadet's attention.

"You go get some rest, captain," he ordered, taking the smiling Kirk's wrist. He moved the blonde's hand from his face and then let go, aware of his breathing, and Kirk's, too.

"Aye, sir," Kirk answered with a small smirk, snapping to a lazy salute. The admiral resisted rolling his eyes and instead started toward the building that housed his quarters. He could feel the captain's eyes on his back, but he didn't turn. Pike just kept walking, his lips faintly turned up in what might have been a smile.

This is the first thing I've written in a while that hasn't turned out suck-tastic so I'm sorta proud of it, but this is the first Star Trek fic I've really done so advice and such would be welcome) Or just harsh insults with hints of truth because why not, I suppose.

Thanks for reading bros)