Disclaimer: Don't own.
Author's Note: So this was written for a prompt fill on kink meme, though I didn't post it forever because it wouldn't finish, and I'm still not sure I like how I wrote the ending. Anyway the prompt was:
Does anyone else ever have those times when they just feel unbelievably lonely? :(
Can i have Jim being lonely, maybe when he first joins the Academy or gets Captain of the Enterprise? Jim/Bones slash?
So I hope that the original prompter, if they haven't seen it posted on kink meme yet, manages to stumble across it, and I'm sorry that it took me so long to finish. Better late than never though.
He loved space. When he was a child he would stare and stare and imagine that it was staring back, the great void of blackness. There was so much emptiness within space, so much emptiness within him. It was comforting to think it saw the emptiness within him, that he was not alone with it. Cold, but then any sort of comfort was better than none.
When he was young he used to imagine it would envelope him, the inky blackness, that he would become apart of that vast expanse like his father had. There was no fear of it, rather hope, because then he would not feel so terribly alone. It was not simply that he felt alone, but that he really was alone, so separate from everything. The mother who kept leaving him to be closer to the stars that claimed his father, the brother who kept running away to forget the past that clung like skin and dirt to the house, and the stepfather who kept the world away through a haze of alcohol. The other kids, well, they kept their distance. Not that he blamed them, he understood. When you survive something like Tarus IV, it seeps into you, changes you, and though they did not know that he had been there, survived it, they felt that there was something off, something about him that did not mesh with their white picket fences and puppy dogs, even before Tarus but especially now, after it all.
It was fitting then, that life continued to push him off alone. Fast track in the academy, 'genius' they called him, 'doesn't even try,' 'such a waste,' they whisper. Part of him wants to laugh in their faces, tell them 'fuck you,' ask what exactly he should be trying for? After all, he's already passing them by. He doesn't do this though, he smiles charming and cocky, and pretends not to hear, like when he was a child and pretended he wasn't alone and stared up into space thinking it stared back down into him.
Being made captain, but not just captain, the youngest captain in Starfleet history. He knows that there is an apt quote somewhere about power and loneliness, wishes he knew it just because of its suitability, doesn't think it would matter much though. Loneliness is loneliness, there are no varying degrees, and sometimes it is just closer to the surface, your awareness of it keener.
Kirk knew that at times he was contrary, and most people, when lonely, would seek out the company of others in the hopes of alleviating it. He wasn't most people and when the loneliness consumed him, it only worsened when in the company of others, magnified it to unbearable proportions. Moments like this, he would seek out an empty observation deck and stare out into the darkness as he did as a child, the comfort it provided was no longer as great, but then there was comfort in habits and this starring had become a behavioral pattern that he relied on. Eventually the loneliness would recede to the back ground once again, but until it did he would do what he had always done, letting the inky blackness engulf him as well.
McCoy hated seeing Kirk like this. Hated seeing the shadows in his eyes and hunched shoulders, arms hugging his stomach, hated knowing that it wasn't the first time nor would it be the last time he saw him thus. He acknowledged that he wasn't fond of feeling this helpless. Yeah, he could patch him up, hound him into eating properly and sleeping regularly, but there wasn't a hypo or regenerator that could fix this; there should be in his opinion.
Within him there was an unpleasant stew of emotions boiling, something that felt like it would be capable of disintegrating the hull of the Enterprise. He couldn't not do anything, not attempt to somehow lessen the hunch of those shoulders, or lighten the shadows in those eyes. Laughing silently at himself, he speculated that the stew inside him of would become even more corrosive if he did not at least attempt to do something. So he gave in to his need, walking up behind Jim, he wrapped his arms overtop Jim's, pulling him securely into contact with his chest, and let his chin drop down to the gold clad shoulder.
He joined Jim in staring out at the vastness of space, content for the moment to just hold him, to just be there with him, but he was selfish. He wanted that look gone from Jim's face and eyes, wanted it to disappear to the depths from which it came because though he wanted it gone permanently, irretraceable, he also knew that it was not possible. It was too entrenched within Jim. It didn't mean that he couldn't do his level best to make it disappear sooner and stay away longer, his hand slipping beneath the uniform to feel the skin beneath, lips pressing to the nape of the neck before meeting another pair of lips in a heated kiss, eyes finally torn away from that dark expanses, finally returned to him.
Blue eyes, so blue, like the summer skies he rarely sees anymore yet doesn't miss. He lightly skims his lips down the golden skin, over jaw and neck, hearing the groan this causes, knows those eyes have fluttered close without needing to see, instead he continues in his distraction, pulling the uniform shirt up and tossing it to the side, running his fingers over the newly exposed skin, before continuing down to divest Jim of his pants, who was not quite content with his own participation up until this point, feeling the need to unclothe Bones since his own skin was on display.
After, when they are sticky, not only with sweat and panting, Bones still buried within Kirk, he takes a moment to admire with satisfaction that the look on his face is gone, replaced with one infinitely more appealing. The spent, glazed look of those blue, blue eyes, the hitching of Jim's breath when he shifts just a bit, grazing that spot within him, and Bones can not help himself because he loves that slow, slow torturing of Jim. Pushing him till they're both hard again, till Jim's keening with want, and Bones is shushing him and whispering reassurances and Darlin' in that slow, syrupy voice that makes Jim arch and clutch him closer, driving him to that edge and taking Bones over with him, knowing that he isn't alone, that someone other than the expanse is observing him.
A/N again: Yeah, so let me know what you think. Thank you for reading! cheers. :)
