A Star Trek Fiction
"For the relationship between Bones and Kirk, because they're awesome, but without each other they would be lame. Besides, who doesn't love the two together?"
The Couch and The Bed
5xs Kirk Had to Sleep on the Couch & 5xs Bones Had to Share his Bed
Story 7: That Time of Year
Late night parties, early drinks, and sex all afternoon, it's just that time of year. Jim is hyper every day, bouncing off of walls, sometimes literally because the kid is convinced he created his own form of martial arts.
Bones just has to roll his eyes and keep some common sense in the room, because Jim has none.
Sometimes he swears the kid can't put two and two together. Like yes Jim that's toxic gas and no Jim you're not releasing it inside of our room. And then other times it's like no Jim don't put that in your mouth, and goddamn it Jim that's not a toy. And other things not worth mentioning.
Currently the little mischievous devil is reading a book on his bed, lying flat on his stomach, legs crossed, staring fondly at his new read.
It's odd to see him this way, so calm, so peaceful. But then again, that can all change in mere microseconds.
Bones glances over at him and smirks; Jim's been there for the past three hours and hasn't had even a peep out of him. The Doctor grabs his plate of cold nachos and opens the microwave, only to find a lifeless tribble inside.
"Uhh Jim, why is there a dead tribble in our microwave?" Bones calls out, poking at the furball.
Jim instantly springs off of his bed and crashes into Bones, "My tribble! Shit I totally forgot about him."
"You forgot a tribble in our microwave?" Bones laughs, looking at his friend with a scowl.
"Yeah, he's been missing for about a week." Jim replies quite seriously, not noticing Bones' sarcasm.
Bones just watches the kid scoop up the dead tribble with disappointment in his eyes, "Where'd you get that thing anyways?"
"I bought him." Jim replies, brushing the tribble's fur.
"You wasted money on that useless thing?" Bones inquires, following Jim out of the kitchen and towards the couch area.
"It wasn't wasted! Plus tribbles are not useless." Jim objects, pulling out a cardboard box so he can use it as a coffin.
"Name one thing they're good for besides petting." Bones points out.
"Well, uhh, hmmm…" Jim stutters, and finally gives a shrug, "I dunno, but maybe they'll be useful one day, ya'never know."
Bones laughs aloud, "Doubt it."
"Well they do breed like crazy." Jim says, placing the tribble inside the box and packaging it up.
"Do they really? Wow, I really do see a lot of baby tribbles around here." Bones responds sarcastically and Jim rolls his eyes.
"Whatever Bones, you're just jealous." Jim mutters and carries the box over to the counter with Bones on his heels.
"Jealous? Me jealous of you?" Bones exclaims with a laugh.
Jim shrugs, "You're jealous because you don't have a tribble."
"I'm not jealous and neither do you Jim, you killed yours." Bones points out, arms folded across his chest.
"I didn't kill it, I just misplaced it." Jim corrects as he seals the box with tape.
Bones rolls his brown eyes at the kid, "This is why we're never getting a dog."
"Dogs are good to have around." Jim says, satisfied with his boxing skills.
"They're a distraction and they cost a fortune." Bones replies bluntly.
Jim looks at Bones with a smirk, "I still want a dog though."
"I already have one." Bones grumbles and Jim perks up suddenly interested.
"You do?" He asks and Bones scowls.
"Yeah, you." Bones responds, gesturing towards Jim.
"Hey!" Jim exclaims and gives the Doctor a playful punch.
"Damn it Jim, I'm a Doctor, not a punching bag." Bones growls, rubbing his now sore arm.
Jim shrugs and picks up his box, "I'm gonna go burry him. Do you want to come to the funeral?"
Bones just glares at him, a complete scowl on his face.
"I'll take that as a no." Jim says slowly and heads for the door.
"You got that right." Bones mutters as Jim opens and slams the door loudly.
Bones sighs and shakes his head. Sometimes Jim, sometimes.
The Doctor then heads back into the kitchen and heats up his nachos. Once pleased with the temperature, Bones gathers the plate and plops down on the couch, switching the television on.
Jim doesn't return back inside for another three hours and when he does enters; Bones swears the kid looks like he had been crying.
"Somethin' wrong Jim?" Bones asks suspiciously, watching the kid's movements.
"Well I dunno Bones, I was just at a funeral." Jim replies sarcastically and makes his way to the kitchen.
Bones rolls his eyes, "Yeah, for a tribble, I feel like you shouldn't be upset over that."
"Maybe I'm just a sensitive guy." Jim says, giving a sigh.
"Seriously doubt that one." Bones mutters and Jim just shrugs.
"I was very emotionally attached to the little fella." Jim jokes and reaches up into the cupboard for a mug but ends up wincing and clutching his side protectively.
"Jim you okay?" Bones asks, this time with more concern.
Jim just brushes him off with a lopsided grin, "Yup, never felt better."
Bones gives a huff in reply to the classic Jim Kirk smile.
"Yeah okay, I ain't buying that for a second." Bones grunts and hops to his feet, walking over to Jim.
Jim just gives a disgusted expression when Bones stands in front of him, hands on hips.
"Lift up the shirt." Bones demands.
"You can't be serious. I'm fine." Jim snaps in defense.
Bones immediately knows that something's wrong, as soon as Jim gets defensive like that it either means two things, one: something about his past has come up, or two: he just got humiliated.
"Stop being such an infant. Lift the shirt Jim." Bones growls, glaring at Jim, hoping the kid will give in before he has to hypo his ass in the kitchen.
Jim stands there briefly, eyes darting for an escape route, but finds none, "Fine."
"Alright, go ahead then." Bones grumbles and watches Jim grab the seams of his shirt and pull it up under his chin.
Bones clenches his teeth, it's bad. Jim just releases a shaky breath and grinds his teeth when Bones crouches down and examines his abdomen.
Jim's core is tattered with large purple circles and bumps. More than likely cracked ribs and a bruised lung, at the least.
"Jim, who did this…?" Bones asks slowly, feeling the hard lumps forming with each bruise.
Jim just clamps his mouth shut, sorrow forming in his blue eyes.
"C'mon, spit it out." Bones tells him, standing upright and gripping Jim's shoulders.
Jim flinches slightly but he lets his shoulders sag, "It was Finnegan."
Bones bites down on his lip, "Why?" He demands, letting go of Jim.
"I dunno, I guess he doesn't like tribbles." Jim chuckles, offering Bones a smile.
"Alright, well c'mon you need to lie down for a little bit so I can ice those bruises." Bones tells him, hooking his arm and steering him out of the kitchen and towards his room.
"Must I?" Jim complains, letting Bones drag him.
"See it as a way to spend more time reading your book." Bones points out and opens Jim's door.
What's inside causes Jim to laugh and Bones to growl. Inside of Jim's room is at least a hundred tribbles. The furry little balls are everywhere, in his bed, under his bed, in his draws, in his closest, in his boxes, and on any piece of furniture. Just everywhere.
"I guess I won't have to worry about losing a tribble now." Jim jokes and giggles, which only causes his ribs more pain, "Hey Bones, do you see the baby tribbles now?"
Bones glares at the tribbles then back to his idiotic friend, "You're calling the exterminator after this, and if you don't I'll exterminate you." He threatens, slamming the door and steering Jim towards the couch.
"Wait hey!" Jim exclaims as Bones thrusts him onto the couch.
"Jim there's no way in hell I'm letting you sleep in there. God, what if they breed inside of you? What if tribbles start popping out of your ears kid? What then? The good ol' Doctor ain't fixing you then." Bones grumbles, shoving him back down as the kid immediately sprung back to his feet.
"That does seem quite scary…" Jim starts, really thinking about it, blinking several times.
Bones just smirks and shakes his head, "Now off with the shirt, it's time to ice those suckers."
"Alright." Jim grunts and begins to pull his shirt up, but it only causes him to wince and grind his teeth.
"Want help?" Bones offers, taking a step towards his friend.
"No, no, I'm fine." Jim responds, shooing Bones' helping hands away and pulls his head out of the shirt.
Jim just winces and gasps as he tugs each arm out. When he finally has the shirt on the ground he gives a long sigh and sinks into the couch with great comfort.
"Alright, now hold still." Bones mutters and gathers some ice from the kitchen and puts them into bags.
The Doctor then places a bag of ice on each bruise, just shaking his head as Jim gasps with each touch. Bones does feel slightly sympathetic for the kid; Jim didn't do anything to aggravate a fight. The kid was just simply burying his dead tribble.
Once done Bones checks each one individually one last time before leaving Jim to rest on the couch. He can only hope that the tribbles don't escape Jim's room and start appearing in other parts of the dorm. Tomorrow for certain he'll make sure Jim calls the exterminator, and if the kid doesn't, he'll just make Jim kill every single one of those fluffy demons.
Giving a huff, Bones readies some dinner only to return to a sleeping Jim. Bones smiles, the kid looks exhausted, and it doesn't help having all of those bruises either.
Instead of waking him, Bones places his share in the fridge and removes the ice bags from his body. He then eats alone on the ground beside the couch, watching the TV until bed. When he finishes, he glances over at Jim who is still sound asleep.
Bones just smirks and cleans up the kitchen before heading to bed, mentally reminding himself that Jim has to get rid of those damned tribbles.
The Doctor gets into his under garments for the night and slides into bed, relaxing with the cool sheets over him. Bones has a feeling that this isn't going to be the only stupid thing that happens this summer, because it's just that time of the year.
