Not Mine. Don't own. If you don't like slash and angst, why are you still reading this?

~*~*~*~*~

Jim didn't show up for his next meeting with Pike, or the one after that. He had been able to take the Kobayashi Maru (which sucked), and every time he checked his graduation plan it had not yet been changed.

He wasn't going to fuck with what worked. If Pike had forgotten he wasn't going to remind him that Cadet Kirk existed outside of class. And if Pike was being generous (less of an ass) then Jim wasn't going to ruin it by opening his mouth and saying something dumb.

Standing the Captain up wasn't a great idea either, but you couldn't be brave all the damn time.

Sometimes he caught Pike just looking at him from across the gym. He erred on the side of caution and wore sweat pants and a baggier shirt, but could still feel eyes following him when they shouldn't be. He tried to tell himself that he didn't find that extremely gratifying. He also tried telling himself that he wasn't looking back just as hard.

He tried telling himself a lot of things.

After a month of this uncomfortable dance, Pike sent him a short message to tell him they would resume their meetings.

And they did, but they weren't the same. Pike kept the door open half the time, for one. The easy camaraderie they had developed had also gone. In its place was stilted conversation about assignments and classes, rehashing test questions. No more conversations on command theory or tactics. No occasional glasses of real liquor. They didn't laugh or play chess or anything that wasn't 100% Starfleet approved wholesome shit. Stiff. Uncomfortable. Formal.

Kirk was losing him. And had no idea what to do about it. So he did what he always did when faced with emotional fallout.

He ran away.

The first time, he really had been feeling under the weather. He cancelled the appointment in the morning and stayed in bed all day, even though he could have asked Bones for a hypo of some miracle pick-me-up. It worked so nice that two weeks later he scheduled an appointment with another instructor that just happened to coincide with his Pike meeting. Oops.

But it wasn't until after two solid months of ducking the meeting or finding excuses to cut it short that he received a terse note from Pike that told him he better make the next one or else.

Things had come to a head, and he didn't have any control over the situation at all. Jim knew he was a control freak, but it still bothered him more than it should have.

So it was with much trepidation that he entered Pike's office. He was going to leave the door open, but only raised an eyebrow when Pike motioned for him to shut it. He then sank into the chair, back straight, and thought ruefully of a time when he just would have flopped into it, maybe even hooked one leg over the chair arm and smiled. Pike grimaced, and Jim wondered if Pike was thinking the same thing.

"Look." Pike stopped for a moment as if to gather himself. "I-"

"I'm sorry!"

"That's-"

"No. I'm sorry. I was being dumb. Again. It was unprofessional, and stupid, and-"

"Shut the hell up."

Jim closed his mouth on the rest of the words that had wanted to come tumbling out unchecked.

Pike looked down. "Hell, kid. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted the way that I did. It was," He searched for the right word. "Thoughtless."

Jim shifted in his seat. "Uh. Thanks." His eyes skittered around the room, not knowing where to look, but definitely not looking at Pike. "For the Kobayashi Maru, even though I tanked it. I'll do better! And for the, you know, not having me…" He trailed off, unsure if he should bring it up.

Pike looked steady, even though his voice really wasn't. "Hell. Don't fucking thank me. It'll make me feel like an even bigger asshole. I was out of line."

Jim gave a start of surprise, but Pike just drew up the corner of his mouth. "I shouldn't have reacted the way that I did. It was unprofessional. And quite a bit of it was none of my business and had no place in a discussion about your career."

Kirk's eyes squinted a bit. "Do you really think that-" He stopped then started again. "I know I did something stupid, and you deserve an explanation." The PADD in his hand suddenly became fascinating. "But, I don't really have one to give you."

Pike scoffed.

"Really. I could give you a lot of reasons, but I don't know which one is true." He looked up again. "But I do need to graduate in three. Need it." He continued despite Pike's dubious look. "And it has nothing to do with Bones, I swear-"

"Kid, I already told you, it's none of my business."

"But it is!" Now the kid looked annoyed. "I mean, you need to know why. Well, I don't know why, but I know why not. And it isn't Bones. We're not. I mean, not fucking."

Pike leaned back and looked at the ceiling.

"Look, you don't understand. Bones is smoking hot, right? I know it, but he's my friend. Maybe my only real one, and I don't want to fuck that up, because I would fuck it up. Badly. And because Bones is going to find some hot nurse and have hot sex and make babies and settle down with a white picket fence and a dog. Because that's what Bones needs." He became fidgety again. Restless.

"Soul deep he needs it. I could probably get him to fuck me, but it wouldn't be real. I'd be like a weigh station on the trip towards his real life. Sure he needs me, but only for now, only until he's not afraid of life anymore."

Kirk looked up, and once again he seemed naked. "He has to find the person he needs forever, and he can't do that if he's busy fucking me."

Embarrassment suddenly flooded his face. "And fuck you for making me poetic and shit. This conversation never happened."

Pike laughed because that was so much more like the old Kirk. And if a weight somehow felt lifted off his chest, that was just a bonus that he would not examine too closely.

"Also? Nice shoes. We should totally fuck."

Yeah. It was good to have the kid back.

~*~*~*~*~

Pike was running a little late the next Friday, and rushed into the office before Steve could stop him about something.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Cadet, I just-"

He stopped short.

Kirk wasn't sitting there, but Dr. McCoy was, very comfortably. Blue-jeaned and cowboy booted, legs splayed with one ankle over a knee and slouched back with his elbows canted out on the armrests.

"Sir." He nodded in acknowledgement.

"Where is cadet Kirk?"

"Sick. For real this time. He was gonna come but I gave him a shot to sleep off. I figured you and me needed to talk."

Pike looked him up and down.

"This isn't about anything official so I didn't dress official."

"Why are you here?"

"Don't play dumb."

Pike bristled, but McCoy just waved him off. "The kid needs someone to look after him, so it's got to be me. His family sure isn't doing it, and I always thought that the family you choose is more important than the family you get stuck with."

Pike sat down, but his back was ramrod straight, and mouth a line of disapproval.

"Just pretend I'm not a cadet and this'll go fine."

"I don't know if that would be wise, Doctor."

"I was never good at wise. But neither is Jim, so that's why I'm here." McCoy rolled his eyes. "Cut the horseshit. I know that you and Jim have this thing."

He cut through Pike's protests. "I know you aren't having sex, but you're a damn sight more than Captain and Cadet." The Doctor snorted in amusement. "Huh. Sounds like bad porn."

"I still fail to see what-"

"Sure you do. " McCoy steepled his fingers together and scowled. "Why don't you just pretend that I'm his daddy and that I'm asking intentions."

Now it was Pike's turn to laugh. "Intentions? Is he a virgin now?"

"I'm not worried about his dick. Kid's got a soft underbelly. That's what I'm worried about. I don't need you assisting him towards a fall."

"I don't plan on it." Pike was getting angry, and his curt delivery underlined it. "And as for you being his father? Cadet Kirk had some interesting things to say about that."

Pike stopped, cursing his reckless mouth, but McCoy just rolled his eyes again.

"You think I don't know Jim's insane romantic theory 'bout me and the nurse and a stupid fence? I love the boy like crazy, but he can be thicker n' shit. I'm a practical man and I don't give a damn about fences, I already have a kid and I'm allergic to dogs. Still wouldn't fuck Jimmy. That poor bastard wants the fence and the trimmings and he doesn't even know it, the romantic twat- won't admit it to himself. "

Pike returned McCoy's scowl in reply.

"Raised on stories of his parents 'great love' even though they statistically woulda been bitterly divorced if George had lived. Like If Jocelyn had kicked it during the wedding she would have been the love of my life forever instead of the soul-sucking harpy she is today. What-if versus hindsight- and some people live on the what-if like a banquet of sawdust." Doctor McCoy turned his gaze inward and shook his head.

"I can't give the boy that. It's not like he wants flowers, but I don't fucking cuddle, and the most I'm good for is beer and sex and telling him to shut the fuck up." He seemed to come to himself, and smiled ruefully. "Probably just what he needs, really- but, Christ forgive me, I just don't like 'em blond." He pondered this for a moment. "Or whiny."

Pike could have laughed, but it strangled in his throat.

"And he don't really want me, anyways. What the boy needs is a friend who isn't gonna fuck him. I think it would disappoint him if I actually did take him up on his offer one day. Like it would invalidate everything else."

The room was quiet for a moment as they both pondered the enigma presented by James Kirk.

"So where does that leave me?"

"I don't know. Where does that leave you?"

Good question. Pike had no idea.

"Why did you volunteer all of this? He wouldn't thank you."

"I don't like this one damn bit, but Jim wants what Jim wants and he's old enough to git it, even if it is poison. I'm just making sure we're on the same page. You don't fuck the kid over, I don't forget the Hippocratic oath."

"You are assuming too much. And I don't care for threats."

McCoy stood up and tipped his head in recognition. "I lead a life of service. I give people what they ask for, even if they go about it in a damn stupid way. If you don't go askin' for it, you won't be gettin' it."

Pike looked a bit grim as he looked through the top of his desk, staring but not seeing.

"I'm not trying to be a dick. Just comes naturally. But I wanted to let you know that you aren't only accountable to the Admiralty. Not anymore."

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Tch." McCoy paused before the door. "Don't have to. Jim ain't the only transparent ass I know."

For the life of him, Pike didn't know what to say to that.

~*~*~*~*~*~

And life went on as usual for the next four months. The same classes. The same meetings. Enjoyable, with that little zing of tension that was so exquisitely alive. It was easy. Fun. Even Kirk's little passes had become funny instead of annoying.

And if Pike sometimes daydreamed about a little bit more, it didn't harm anyone.

Kirk would flirt a bit.

He would graduate.

Serve aboard the Nelson or maybe the Farragut.

And maybe after he was promoted and came into his own. If he was still interested…

Just maybe. It was a good daydream for a man who didn't have time to daydream.

Pike never finished those thoughts. But then again, after six months of quiet, there suddenly wasn't any point in finishing them.

Kirk's second Kobayashi Maru destroyed everything.

~*~*~*~*~

Pike knew something wasn't right as soon as Kirk entered the room.

Pike was in the overhead observatory, looking down at the bridge simulator when the kid entered. He was strung tight, face pulled into a hollow mask, jaw so hardened that it must hurt.

Pike knew that he was probably presenting a façade of determination to almost everyone else, but Pike was becoming more fluent in what made Cadet Kirk tick. A few others, like the xenolinguistics major, looked concerned. So did Doctor McCoy, but he just shook his head in reply when Kirk gave him a look.

Kirk took his seat in the captain's chair and was quiet for a moment while everyone looked to him. He looked fierce. Contained.

Like an explosive.

Then Kirk looked up at the overhead, straight at Pike, almost like he could see him through the impenetrable one-way glass. He raised his hand. "Commence simulation. Cadet Kirk. One-One-One-Alpha-Mark-Two."

And it happened like it had happened hundreds of times before. The ship hailed. The Klingon vessels. The unwinnable scenario.

The last time Kirk had tried diplomacy, which had rather surprised Pike but had pleased most of his instructors. He was growing up, they said.

This time, he threw everything he had into brutalizing the Klingon battle-cruisers in what amounted to a suicide strike.

"Jim, are you sure?"

"Do it!"

"All hands, abandon ship."

"The escape pods won't clear in time. There is a good chance that over half of them will get hit by the blast."

"We'll take it."

Another hit.

"Decompression, decks seven and eight."

"Fire again."

It was…desperate. Wild. Intense.

When the lights suddenly went up and the disembodied voice said "Kobayashi Maru- destroyed," Kirk sank back in the chair, grip tight, eyes still banked fires.

Someone said something to him, a commiseration, but most of the other cadets that formed the doomed bridge crew seemed wary of making any sudden moves around him.

He clenched his fist. Once, Twice. He stood so suddenly everyone else jumped, still wired from the simulation.

Kirk left without speaking to anyone, blowing right past the instructor who entered to give him a performance evaluation.

Pike also left.

~*~*~*~*~

He went back to his office, cursing Kirk and his impulsive behavior. He would nail his ass to a wall on Friday, the little bastard. He knew better than to-

The door opened.

"You can't-"

Kirk stood in the doorway, still angry and humming with energy. His secretary was fluttering behind him, looking distressed.

"It's fine, Stephen. Leave it. Come in, Cadet Kirk."

He entered the room, shutting the door behind him as Pike walked towards his desk.

"Just what did you think you were doing?" He turned to glare at Kirk, but Kirk had followed him, was right on top of him. "You didn't-"

And then Kirk was pressed against him from chest to hip, and his tongue was invading his mouth, stabbing at it, rubbing against his teeth and gums, and insinuating itself into a steady rhythm of thrust and dominance that Pike had to return in kind.

A hand found its way under his uniform top and his undershirt, strong fingers playing across his abdomen and the trail of hair that decorated it just below his belly. They were everywhere. Stomach, hips. He lost his jacket, thin knit shirt ruched up under his armpits as Kirk plucked at hardened nipples, too hard, but so good. So fine.

And still that mouth ate as his, no teasing, no tentativeness, just want and heat.

Wet flesh sliding down his neck, sucking hot trails and leaving bruised skin in its wake. A mouth on nipple, pulling and scraping. And Chris had never though he was much for teeth, but Oh, god, those teeth, and those lips.

"Fuck."

They clawed at Kirk's clothing till he was bare to the waist, as best they could without completely separating. Pike scratched lines of pink down Jim's chest, then bent to lick those same marks.

Flies became undone, plackets splayed open. Pike inserted his hands to grab at Kirk's ass, pulling them together as he bore them back into the desk. Trousers worked down until they met, cock to naked cock for the first time as Chris hitched them up a bit, sliding Jim against him until they practically howled at the sensation.

"Fuck." It was Kirk this time, eyes closed, head thrown back displaying that long throat. "Fuck. So good. Wanted this. God."

And yes, Pike was angry. So fucking angry, but that just made it even better, these feelings, so much that it fucking hurt. When he grabbed their dicks together to pull, it was harder than it should have been, and rougher, making Kirk keen deep in the back of his throat, but that was right too. Perfect.

Kirk licked at his neck, bit at his shoulder as he lay his head there, and hands touched everywhere, grabbing his ass and kneading, pulling Pike against him even harder.

"I want you to fuck me." Kirk pulled back enough to lick at his ear, then looked at him as he placed his palm over Pike's as he masturbated them both. "I want to come on your cock as you fuck me over your desk."

He lowered his voice. "I want you to make me scream with your cock."

His eyes were bird-bright and feverish and fuck, Chris hated him, and wanted him and couldn't say no to that because it was all that he could think about too. So he kissed Jim again and again before letting go of their erections, already slick and wanting. He grabbed Kirk roughly by the shoulder and spun him, pushing him down into the desk and kicking his legs to splay them.

Jim groaned and the feeling went straight to his dick. Chris grabbed it with one hand, directing it to rub at the crease of Jim's ass. Jim lifted it in invitation, lunging it, but Pike slapped him and grabbed the side of his head with one hand, pushing his face to the table, pressing his cheek to the cool wood surface.

He wasn't particularly gentle, but Kirk just bucked back harder, trying to get Pike exactly where he needed him. Pike slapped him once more and pressed his face harder. His cock rubbed again and again, teasing Jim's hole, but never penetrating.

"Please! Stop teasing."

Pike grabbed his cock with his free hand and slapped it against him. "Is this what you want?"

"God, yes! Please."

"Such a fucking slut."

"Do it!"

Pike dipped two fingers into the glass of water on his desk then placed them against Kirk's ass, pushing in with no preliminaries. So pretty. It was surprisingly tight, and so hot, and could imagine how it would feel as he sheathed his cock.

"Fuuuuuckkk…" Kirks vice was guttural as he bucked up into the invading digits. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. Please. Fuck me."

But Pike just kept playing with his hole. Pissed off, probably rougher than he should be as he scissored, then yanked a bit till the rim was a glistening, swollen pink. Pinned as he was at head and hip, Kirk could only writhe his shoulders in want, sinuous as a snake.

"I need you to fuck me. Please. I need it."

And for a moment, Pike could only feel contempt as he looked down as his back, shiny with perspiration. He could feel it as he wet his hand and grasped his own arousal. He felt it as he pressed the flared head to Kirk's ass and pressed- oh fuck, so goddamn good, so amazingly good it fucking hurt so good- as he breached the sphincter and slid in balls deep, as he thrust without giving Kirk time to acclimate to his invasion.

When he plowed on, finding Jim's prostate, hammering into it as he mewled underneath his violent thrusts, he felt it then too.

He knew he was hurting him, just like he knew that Kirk was beyond caring, because it was still so right and good and fucking perfect like a diamond. He still felt it.

He felt it and he started speaking, at first low in Kirk's ear as he pressed painfully into the desk, then louder and more assured.

"Do you like it?"

"Is this what you fucking wanted?"

"Do you think that you are in control here?"

Each punctuating the thrusts that were becoming quicker and more erratic.

"N-nnn" Kirk was beyond answering. Good. Because he didn't want to hear his excuses anyway.

"Did you really think this would work? That you could shake your ass for me and I would come running to save your shit?"

"That you could put out and I'd be grateful enough to pull favors?"

"That I'd be dumb enough to fall for your line of shit? Risk my career by giving you special treatment because you can't keep these pretty legs shut? To help you with the Kobayashi Maru when you fuck up?"

He was going to come soon, his pattern was starting to stutter, his balls drawn up and tight and everything was throbbing in preparation for release and it was going to be amazing.

He reached underneath to palm at Jim's cock, hard and leaking straight up against his abdomen. It only took one hard tug, two, before Kirk was almost squealing his release against the desk, tightening like a constrictor along Chris' length, making his breath hitch.

He sped up, fucking into the slackening ass even harder, and leaned over to lick a stripe up Kirk's neck, ending up by his ear, panting hot breath.

"You're a fool."

And then he was coming, whiting out his vision, buckling his legs as sweet agony poured from his cock. The warmth of his own come bathed his dick in Kirk's tight heat as he lay there, spent, catching his breath for a few moments before he had to pull away, softening and overly sensitive.

Kirk lay there for another moment as well, face turned away, his hole puffy and raw from the abuse, slightly leaking a bit of semen. Pike had to stop himself from reaching out with a finger to swipe some up and see it glistening on his own skin.

So fucking good.

He moved away, giving Kirk room to sit up. He did so, but refused to look up.

After a minute he just got up and began searching for his clothes, turning them right side out before putting them on, one by one, starting with his socks.

Pike snorted. "What? Wasn't what you expected?"

Kirk gave him an angry look, but didn't say anything; just continued dressing.

Pike huffed then found his own clothes, dressing quicker than Kirk, but then again, Pike wasn't the one hurting.

When Kirk finished putting on his shoes, he just stood there, staring at the floor.

"I want to transfer advisors."

That brought Pike up short. "What."

Kirk still refused to meet his eyes. "I want to transfer advisors."

"What the hell. You get what you want now you need to move on to the next big game? Screw you Kirk."

"That's not it." He tensed all over. "I just need a transfer. This," he gestured, "won't work."

"No."

Kirk finally looked at him, startling him with the rage he could see beneath the surface, barely banked. "I've put up with a lot of shit in my life. Too much. But I'm not going to take it from you." He looked down again. "I don't fucking deserve it."

"Please, do you think you're the only cadet that's had it rough?"

The bitter laugh in reply surprised Pike. He had never heard it from anyone who hadn't lived through a war. Kirk shook his head.

"Do you want to know why I joined Starfleet? You asked me before, but I didn't feel like telling you then." Another one of those bitter chuckles.

" I fucking hate Starfleet. They put my father out there in the middle of the black with a wife and a kid on the way just to study some sort of alien fungus, and didn't do shit when it all went to hell. It's like the admiralty has darts named after starships that they fling at a map. Starfleet enabled my fucked-in-the-head mom by getting her off planet and away from her own kids. Who were left with a Starfleet flunkie stepfather that beat them like he was keeping time by it."

Kirk was walking closer with every sentence, until they were almost chest to chest.

"For someone who's seen so much of the galaxy, you are remarkably naïve. You think I got like I am because daddy died and Frank knocked me around a little? Because my mom didn't breastfeed me enough or some shit? Sounds like a rural utopia to me."

Jim leaned in so close that Pike could feel his breath, smell him, even smell himself on him, dammit, and damn if he didn't give a little twitch, despite having just spent himself. "But then again, that's what it was supposed to be, right? Utopia. My aunt and uncle's farmstead, a buffer between me and Frank. Good living, no real way to get in trouble. I was just 13. "

Kirk quirked an eyebrow at Pike's questioning look, and this time his lips really did touch the tender curve of Pike's ear. And he whispered – so soft.

"Tarsus IV."

Air rushed through Pike's clenched teeth as the blood drained from his face.

Oh no.

No. Not Jim.

"I'm sure you've seen the photos. Required reading, isn't it. An object lesson, probably completely abstract for you. A cool puzzle, even. I hear it's a popular assignment, essays on what you would have done differently." Kirk- Jim, just put his hands against Pike's chest and shoved, stepping away to put some distance between them.

"So fuck Starfleet. Kodos wasn't elected. He was appointed because he kissed the right Federation ass. The lack of communication that led to fucking genocide? Starfleet had ways, but they were a pain in the ass, sucked so much energy, might have interfered with a starship's ability to examine fungus. So why the fuck bother, the ship would be there soon, anyways, right? So many ways Starfleet could have helped, so many ways they dropped the fucking ball. Fucking Federation lapdogs."

The laughter was loud, and surprising, becoming hysterical until it abruptly cut off. Pike's hand twitched, wanting to reach out, but Jim looked so fragile in that moment, like spider cracks spreading over glass, that Pike didn't want to take the chance of breaking him.

"I joined Starfleet. I JOINED FUCKING STARFLEET. I don't even have my father's eyes anymore, because of Starfleet. Kodos preferred us blond and blue-eyed; mine were brown, you know? But I was able to get an injection into my pupils to change the pigment."

"Jim."

Jim backed into the chair and sat heavily, elbows on knees and face in his hands. "Every single friend- dead. But I joined Starfleet," he choked.

"Jimmy."

When he looked up, his eyes were red-rimmed but there weren't any tears. Probably hadn't been for a long time. "I joined Starfleet- because you asked me to. You wanted me to join because you thought I could join. Like I wasn't some hick fuck-up that couldn't live up to his dad's rep. No prospects but jail. You flat out told me you thought I could do better, and there sure as fuck wasn't anyone else that would do that." He coughed at that. "And I was a sucker, because I joined fucking Starfleet. Because I thought maybe you were better than the rest of those cunts that think they rule the universe."

"Dammit, son. Just let me-"

"I'm not letting you do shit anymore. And I'm not your son. Even I'm not fucked up enough to put up with that kind of treatment. Find Admiral Archer and grab your ankles. Or a nice, fresh cadet to mindfuck and ride like a bitch. I'll even give you a written recommendation. But my mind is all fucked out." He stood up abruptly and rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants. And from one moment to the next, he changed. Composed himself, shut down the majority of what made him Jim Kirk. It was…frightening.

" So. Congratulations on boldly going and so on and so forth, or whatever it is you guys talk about to stimulate yourselves. I'm done here."

And he got up and left. Just like that.

Like they had just had a teaparty and discussed the weather.

As if he hadn't just gutted Pike where he stood.

~*~*~*~*~

It was only an hour later that he glanced through his news packet, trying to fight his way through the curious numbness that gripped him, finding some cold comfort in routine. Ordinary. Structured.

He had thought that it couldn't get any worse. Ha!

He had been so goddamn wrong.

He reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of scotch. Didn't even bother with a glass as he tipped it straight down. Dead was looking better than drunk.

Recent news reported Winona Kirk dead as of yesterday.