Fic and Art: "In Perfect Trust" (2/4)
Dec. 28th, 2009 09:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mijanTitle: "In Perfect Trust" (2/4)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mijan
Artist:lizardspots
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: BDSM. Needleplay. Sounding.
Link to previous section: Part 1
And now the continuation...
Jim's eyes had gone wide, as if he couldn't believe he'd said that aloud. "I don't mean… it's not that…"
"I turned you away," Leonard said, feeling a twist of guilt. If Jim was this worked up, then it was clearly something that was important to him, and Leonard had brushed him off. Kicked him out. "That's why you were here earlier, isn't it?"
With a barely perceptible nod, Jim whispered, "Yeah. I had decided not to say anything after you kicked me out of the room. Never got to ask earlier, so I wasn’t going to ask at all."
"And I turned you away," Leonard said again, hating himself at that moment.
Jim shrugged and looked aside. "You had to study, and I was being an ass. I can't blame you. Besides… this isn't the sort of shit that I can just ask people."
"Even me?"
"Especially you." He chuckled dryly, in contrast to the flushed look that was spreading across his face and ears. "Most people's opinions don't matter much to me, Bones, but yours does. You're the person I trust. Which is why talking to you about something… touchy… is both the most obvious thing, and the most risky. If I freak you out –"
"Wait, Jim… just wait a second." Leonard thought carefully for a moment about how he was going to say this. "You once asked me for a detailed explanation of the physiology for how a human male could initiate intercourse with a Bolian woman. You clearly didn't worry about causing me to 'freak out' that time, and you didn't even flinch when I started describing the potential impacts on the male anatomy."
"So?" Jim asked warily.
"So... you clearly don't have a problem asking me all sorts of crazy things. Do you just want to ask me questions about this… or do you want me to do something about it?" When the vivid red blush on Jim's face went about three shades darker, Leonard knew he didn't even need to wait for a response. He leaned his forehead into his hand and rubbed his temples. "Goddammit Jim."
The bed bounced as Jim suddenly launched himself off of it, babbling. "Listen, I'm sorry I bothered you. You've got studying to do, and I've already taken enough of your time. Thanks for patching me up, and for not reporting this, and let's just pretend I never said any of this, and it'll be –"
"Jim."
The kid froze about two steps from the door, just barely outside the range to trigger opening it. "What?" It came out as a squeak.
"I didn't say 'no.'" Leonard stood and crossed the room to Jim, watching him carefully. The kid was actually trembling, almost imperceptibly. "I also didn't take you for a bottom," Leonard said calmly, standing just outside of Jim's personal space.
"I'm not," he said quickly – too quickly.
Leonard narrowed his eyes.
"I'm not," Jim said, more slowly this time, "but there are just… certain things I really want to try. And getting myself choked to death wasn't actually on the list. That was… just what I could think of at the time. Something that seemed easy, like anyone could do it."
"Oh?" Leonard cocked his head to the side, frowning, appraising Jim. "You want stuff that not everyone could do, is that it?"
"Uh…"
Leonard clenched his jaw for a moment, considering this. He'd never mentioned it to Jim, mostly because he'd never seen a reason to, but he was no stranger to some of the more unusual sexual exploits. As a doctor, he'd been propositioned for it quite a few times just on that fact alone. And, to be fully honest, he rather enjoyed it.
"It's not just because I'm your friend, is it, Jim?" He stepped decisively into Jim's personal space, and taking a calculated gamble, reached out and grabbed Jim's wrist, making it clear that he was reaching for Jim's pulse. Not only was the kid's pulse racing, but Jim definitely flushed even redder. Suspicions confirmed. "Well I'll be damned. You've got a medical kink, don't you?"
Jim pulled his wrist out of Leonard's grasp and pushed past him back into the room. "How the hell should I know, Bones?" He stalked across the room and sat on the arm of the couch, a bundle of nervous energy, almost twitching with blatant anxiety. "I've never done it before. And I hate doctors."
Leonard raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't know about that, Jim. You seem to get along with me well enough."
"You're different," he mumbled.
It was all Leonard could to to keep from smirking, but he couldn't let himself do that just then. Jim had moved back into the room, not out the door; the kid wanted to be here. In turn, Leonard had to play his cards carefully to keep Jim from running. "How's that, Jim? Because I'm your friend, too? Because you're comfortable with me, at least as a friend?"
Jim shrugged.
"Or is it because you've decided that you trust me, even as a doctor?" Jim didn't move, but Leonard could hear the unspoken agreement anyway. "I know that doctors make you uncomfortable, kid; they put you out of your comfort zone because they take control away from you. Jim, I've known you for over a year and a half, and I've seen you injured enough times to know the pattern. You don't give a shit about the injury, but you're consistently embarrassed about something. I think I'm starting understand what."
"I… I just hate being a patient." He looked away and stared at the far wall, eyes as blank as he could make them.
Leonard shook his head, letting the psychological analysis spin in his mind. There were times when a doctorate in psych actually came in handy. He'd seen this before, and he knew Jim well enough to fill in the gaps. "You hate being seen as a patient," he stated, calmly and clinically. "You hate the awkwardness of being helpless in front of people, because it's too personal. You do hate being weak, but… I think the rest of it makes you edgy. I think it fascinates you... the things that can be done to the human body... to your body."
Jim visibly shivered, and Leonard knew he'd hit the nail on the head.
"Maybe nobody else would notice, but for some unknowable reason, I've got this odd habit of paying attention to you." He took a couple of steps towards Jim, arms still folded over his chest. "You usually get really quiet when I stick a regen unit on you. You squirm when I scan you with a tricorder. And that time you woke up after two days at Starfleet Medical after that goddamned shuttlecraft accident, and you realized you had an IV in your hand… you were staring at it with this sort of morbid fascination until you noticed I was watching you, and then you tried to order me to remove it." He snorted in amusement at the memory, realizing the significance all these months later. "Nice try, by the way. But I think you actually liked it when I told you that it was staying put for a couple of days."
The only reaction from Jim was that he swallowed nervously and clenched his jaw. He said nothing, and his burning personal shame was palpable.
That was the last thing Leonard had meant to do. He pressed his lips together, then sighed tightly, wondering if he'd pushed too far. "Come on, Jim. It's nothing to feel strange about," he said, hoping that might help.
Jim managed a derisive snort. "Ha. 's funny," he grunted, just barely audible.
Leonard shook his head, reconsidering how to approach this, then started walking towards Jim again. "Listen, Jim... you like being the tough guy. I get that. You probably define yourself in the bedroom with the same macho attitude that you use on everything else you do. But if you want to step outside of your comfort zone for a change, then you've gotta be honest here. I think you've never had anyone take care of you in your life - never let anyone take care of you - and you crave it. I think the awareness of your own body makes you feel more alive, the forced loss of control gives you an excuse not to be in control for a change. And I think that if you could have that on your own terms, behind closed doors, with someone you trust... it would be the best goddamned thing you could imagine." He stopped right in front of Jim, looking down at him like cornered prey. "Am I right?"
Jim wasn't looking up. He was staring straight ahead, as if he could see right through Leonard's stomach and out the other side. He was breathing just a bit too quickly, a bit too shallowly, and his left hand was clenching and unclenching over and over like a nervous habit. He looked like he was trying to shake his head but couldn't.
"Jim," Leonard said softly.
Finally, Jim glanced up; defeat, embarrassment, and a distant glimmer of hope churned in his eyes. "Yeah," he whispered hoarsely, then let his head drop again. "Fuck it all, but yeah. This is so embarrassing."
"Why?" Leonard asked neutrally, doing his best not to attach any sort of qualification to the question, wanting Jim to fill in the blanks himself.
"Because," he choked, "you've just read me like a goddamned book, and nobody has ever done that." He swallowed convulsively and closed his eyes, as if he couldn't bear to face this. "Because this is the part where I find out if you think I'm a freak or out of my mind or laughable or ludicrous and you decide I'm not worth your trouble or this is some stupid thing that should be ignored or that you don't want to speak to me again…" He paused and glanced up one more time, and Leonard thought there might have been a rim of wetness around his eyes. "Or I find out that you're taking me seriously."
Gently, ever so gently, Leonard put his hands on Jim's shoulders, and crouched down so that Jim's eye-level was above his own. For all the times he'd happily razzed or mocked Jim with casual banter, this wasn't the time to do that. He gave Jim the most sincere look he could manage. "Jim, I already think you're out of your goddamned mind for half of the ludicrous, laughable, freakish stuff you do, but not for this. And I will always, always take you seriously when you need me to."
"But this is... I don't know, Bones... this is just weird."
Leonard dropped his hands from Jim's shoulders, but didn't back away. "Well, it's not standard for everyone," he admitted plainly, "but how would you define weird? In this day and age, folks are hooking up with sentient beings of other species from other planets and discovering whole new definitions of sex and pleasure. And you - I mean, seriously, Jim, you've probably tried more wild and weird things than anyone else I know, if your boasts are even fractionally true. Why is this different?"
Jim hesitated, then sighed. "You said it yourself. Because it's personal."
There was something else unsaid. Leonard raised an eyebrow, silently demanding the rest of the answer.
"And because... because it would be asking for something."
Leaning back on his heels, Leonard let it all weave together. He considered this new, but not entirely out-of-place discovery about his friend, realizing that this might be the most open, honest thing Jim had ever told him. If there was one thing he knew about Jim, it was that the kid didn't ask for anything. Sure, sometimes Jim would impose himself on people, showing up with that confident, exuberant presence that glowed white-hot like a star around which everything and everyone else revolved, but it was true - he never asked for anything. Never let on that he needed anything, even when it was obvious that he did... even medical treatment. Especially medical treatment.
In the almost-two years that he'd known Jim, Leonard had become accustomed to all-but-forcing Jim to take care of himself. No matter how much Jim protested, he knew who would win. And now, Leonard understood - even as he'd resisted, Jim had wanted him to win. For once in Jim's life, someone else was taking control... but was taking care of him, not hurting him. No wonder the kid latched onto me from the start, Leonard mused, remembering the day they'd stumbled off the shuttlecraft in the Academy's main hangar, and how he'd dragged Jim to the infirmary against all protestations. He remembered how Jim had refused to cooperate with the infirmary personnel until Leonard had shown the duty doc his own credentials and clearance, and had been allowed to take over Jim's treatment.
Sure, Jim had continued to resist until he'd drawn the privacy curtain, but then the kid had become absolutely compliant, even though he'd continued to verbally protest until Leonard began treatment. He remembered how the hyper-talkative Jim Kirk had gone absolutely silent as he'd run the tricorder scan, then set the osteo-regenerator unit on his broken nose. He remembered the faint shudder as he'd explored the newly mended skin and muscle with his fingers, testing and prodding to make sure everything had healed right, trusting his own sense of touch more than just a digital readout on a scanner. And he remembered how Jim had hovered just a few inches closer to him as they'd left the infirmary, shoulders almost brushing together as they'd walked.
Yeah, the kid needed this in a way he probably didn't even realize.
"Well, Jim," Leonard began slowly, standing as he spoke, "I'm not going to let you ask for anything."
In an instant, Jim looked absolutely crestfallen and wounded, but Leonard kept talking. "What I am going to do is give you a set of instructions." He walked back over to his med kit where it was sitting open on the floor and began fishing around. When he found the monitor he was looking for, he returned to Jim. "Hold out your arm."
"Uh... Bones? What are you doing?"
Leonard just looked steadily at Jim until the kid shivered and held out his arm. Not hesitating, Leonard pulled Jim's sleeve up, explaining as he fastened the device just above Jim's wrist bone. "I need to get some studying done, and so do you. However, after your little adventure earlier, I can't take the risk of you having complications. Maybe you don't think it's a big deal, but suffocation is not a goddamned joke, Jim. I'm probably just being too damned nice to you, but I did promise not to drag you to the infirmary. Instead, you wear this monitor for the next twenty-four hours." Jim shivered again, almost imperceptibly, as the monitor activated, clamping down onto his skin, instantly reading all his major vital signs. "I'll patch the signal back into my PADD. That way, if you have complications... or if you decide to pull another stupid stunt tonight instead of listening to my better judgment... I'll know." Leonard leaned in closer as he pulled Jim's sleeve down over the monitor, hiding it. "And believe me, I'll know."
Jim met his eyes for just a few seconds before he looked down at his arm, and spoke just above a whisper. "Why?" was all he said, but Leonard knew what he meant.
"Because, Jim," Leonard said softly, "I enjoy looking out for you." He clapped Jim lightly on the shoulder. "I have a midterm exam tomorrow, and I know you have at least one, too. But tomorrow is Friday, and then we've got the whole weekend. And I... expect to see you back here tomorrow night at 1900 hours for a follow-up. Do you understand me?"
"I... yes."
Leonard nodded. "Now, here are the rules. If you come through that door tomorrow night, hold out your arm, and say, 'I'm fine,' then the game is over. I'll take off the monitor, and if you want, I'll never mention this again. I don't get off on pressuring people into doing things they don't want to do. Not my game. But if you come through that door and ask, 'What's the prognosis?'... then you follow my instructions, and I promise I'll take good care of you." He kept it simple, letting Jim's imagination fill in the rest, which he was sure must have been detailed, by the way Jim's eyes widened just slightly. "Got it?"
Swallowing nervously, Jim nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I got it." He stood, took a half-step towards the door, then stopped. He glanced back at Bones uneasily, an unspoken question hovering behind his eyes.
"What, Jim?"
"You've done this before?" he asked, his voice breathy with astonishment.
Leonard finally grinned. "Oh yeah," he drawled easily. "Come on, Jim, you didn't think I was a prude, did you?"
"Well, no, but..." There was a sharp intake of breath, and Jim shook his head in stunned amazement. "Damn, Bones. Now I don't know what to think."
"Who said you had to think?"
Jim blinked a few times, processing that. "Shit. You... you're into this sort of thing?"
At that, Leonard had to chuckle. "Jim, I figured you'd be the first to realize that most doctors have a bit of a sadistic streak. Including me." He enjoyed the shudder that worked its way up Jim's spine, and let a sly edge tint his grin. "I've... explored that a bit. Yeah, I'm into it. It's been a while, and I think this might be fun."
Another little spark of hope seemed to light behind Jim's wary expression, but then he frowned. "I don't want to burden you."
Leonard couldn't hold back the sarcastic snort. "Think about that the next time you get too drunk to walk straight and I have to half-carry you home. You're heavy, you know that?" It was clearly the wrong thing to say, as Jim seemed to close up again, looking down at his feet. Leonard reached up and put his hands on Jim's shoulders. "Jim, if I didn't want to do this, I wouldn't do it, plain and simple. It's not a burden. Not in the slightest. I intend to enjoy this, too. Got it?"
Jim nodded, but didn't look up.
"Jim? Hey, are you okay?"
Silently, Jim nodded again, hesitated, then shook his head, just a bit. "Just feeling a bit... raw right now."
Frowning, Leonard looked Jim in the eyes. The kid had just revealed something that was obviously extremely personal, and Leonard knew that a lot of people who discovered their kinky side went through a gauntlet of emotions about it - fear, guilt, shame. It was especially true of people whose emotional lives hadn't been great to begin with. Jim had a very comfortable mask of confidence that he wore, but he held it in place with his secrets and his privacy. He'd just torn away one of those secrets that he'd clearly held very tightly, and the normally confident, cocky Jim Kirk had been left exposed and vulnerable.
He let his frown soften into something that could have been mistaken for a smile. "I understand." And before Jim could protest, Leonard pulled him into a tight, secure hug and held him for a moment, feeling both protective and even a touch possessive. "Don't feel embarrassed, Jim, and don't feel guilty unless you go out and hurt yourself - which you'd better not do. Got it?" He felt Jim nod against his shoulder, and he broke the embrace. "Okay then, you go back to your dorm room and study. Take care of yourself, and get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow night."
"Okay." And without another word, Jim turned around and walked out the door, his footsteps tentative and reserved, not the bold stride he normally used.
Leonard watched him go, and after a moment of staring thoughtfully at the closed door, he went and sat down on his couch, putting his feet up and leaning back. This was certainly an unexpected development, but not an unwelcome one. Well, he didn't exactly welcome the manner in which he'd discovered this - generally, he didn't prefer to find his friends unconscious on the floor. He wanted to be angry at himself for having kicked Jim out earlier, but he'd had no way of knowing what Jim had really been looking for. Hell, he had to wonder if Jim knew what Jim was looking for. Perhaps he wanted nothing more than the physical rush, but somehow Leonard didn't quite buy that. Perhaps it was the psychological thrill, but Leonard suspected something deeper. He was sure it wasn't about the sexual gratification, because whatever else Jim hadn't quite mastered in his life, the act of the good hard fuck was something of an art form to the kid. Whatever the deeper motivation and the real goal might be, however, he would guess that Jim wouldn't want it from anyone else... but that was okay. Strangely, Leonard rather liked that idea.
One thing he knew, with absolute certainty, was that he did enjoy taking care of Jim, even when the kid exasperated him beyond all measure. Enjoyed giving Jim what he needed, even when he couldn't ask for it. In a way, he had to admit, he felt possessive of him. Jim had listed him as his primary physician within a month of meeting him, and his primary contact before the end of their first semester. It was more trust than he'd ever shown towards anyone else, but he still kept his own walls in place, his own fortress and facade of self-reliance, his need to appear unquestionably independent. He'd never fully let himself go. Jim had saved Leonard's life once, and he trusted Jim explicitly and implicitly. Maybe Jim needed to feel that sort of trust for someone else.
Only tomorrow would tell.
Shrugging to himself, Leonard reached over and grabbed his PADD. He activated the biomonitor program and tapped into the signal from the sensor he'd strapped to Jim's wrist.
For a few minutes, he watched the readouts on Jim's vital signs while musing over the situation. Heart rate, respiratory rate, blood pressure, adrenaline levels, oxygen saturation... really, when he thought about it, this stuff was intimate information; every physical measure of Jim was there on his screen for him to read. Even his location could be tracked. Leonard got a funny feeling in his gut when he realized that, in essence, he'd just stuck the equivalent of a training collar on Jim. It hadn't been his intent, but that was essentially what he'd done, and he wondered if Jim would recognize the possible implication. Even more, he wondered if he should feel guilty for the twist of pleasure the idea gave him, but he didn't.
Jim was moving slowly across campus. Adrenaline high, heart rate elevated, respiration more rapid than it needed to be, but he seemed okay. The tracker followed him across the campus quad, past his own dorm, and out to the old wooden pier on the edge of campus. It was an unseasonably warm spring evening, and Leonard could almost picture Jim wandering out onto the pier, sitting on the edge, and dangling his feet over the side as he listened to the wind and the waves, trying to see the Bridge through the fog. Jim did that sometimes; he said it helped him to relax. Slowly, Jim's adrenaline level dropped back to normal, his heart rate slowed, and his breathing evened out. Leonard smiled at that. There would be plenty of time to kick those things into high gear tomorrow night. For now, Jim needed space to think, and it was good that he was calming down.
Leonard knew he had to study, but even with his class materials displayed on another panel, he kept watching Jim's monitor display until the kid began moving again, back towards his dorm, at a much more lively pace. Jim's normal pace.
Yeah, the kid would be fine.
*********
Leonard had to admit to himself that he was feeling just a tiny bit nervous as he waited for 1900 hours to arrive. Well, maybe more than a tiny bit. It had been a long time since he'd staged a scene like this, and he'd never done it with someone who was as close of a friend as Jim was. Never did this with someone who mattered like Jim did. Never with someone when he was so deeply concerned that if it went wrong, it could ruin something too valuable to lose. When he was in Dom mode, it was easy to be confident. Now, while waiting, wondering if Jim was even going to agree to this, he was left dangling and uncertain.
He'd done his best to keep up the distractions all day so he wouldn't harp on it too much. His midterm exam had gone smoothly that morning, and a clinic shift had kept him busy enough for the afternoon. While he was there, he'd made sure to restock his med kit, too. Then, it was back to his dorm room for a shower, a light dinner... and preparations.
His coffee table and chair had been pushed out of the way, making space for the massage table he'd set up, tucked into the sitting area, just out of the line-of-sight from the door. A surprisingly handy piece of furniture, he'd learned, after a rotation in an orthopedics and physical therapy clinic - it could be folded and tucked into a closet, but once set up, it was just the right height for a myriad of amusing pastimes. Much better for this sort of thing than a bed. His bed had enjoyed little recreation in recent months, and the massage table even less. He'd been too busy to think about it much lately, but he missed it, like a small piece of himself had been set aside in a box and forgotten.
This was different and yet the same as what he did in his real line of work; in both, there was the satisfying sense of knowing how to give someone exactly what they needed. When he'd first begun exploring his kinkier side, he'd felt guilty, then hesitant, wondering if he was violating some unspoken ethical code of his profession. But then he realized that when done right, BDSM was just another way of taking care of people. Sometimes a person needed physical healing, sometimes pleasure, sometimes pain, release, catharsis, compassion, or perhaps a delicate combination of all of those things. His own pleasure was in giving those things, and doing it well. An even deeper pleasure came from being trusted to do those things well. He'd tried to ignore that fact, but he craved that trust from Jim in a way that couldn't be put into words.
Very few women and even fewer men had ever been welcomed into his bedroom for such activities; he was very selective about the people he chose to invite. He'd never imagined he'd have reason to invite Jim. Never considered the possibility that Jim might be seeking such things. Never thought he'd have Jim stretched out on the table, waiting for his hands, waiting for his talents. The mental image sent a small jolt through his stomach as he stood staring at the table before he finally was able to pry his eyes away from it.
From the bottom drawer of his dresser, he pulled out a small box. The tools of the trade, or at least the ones he figured he might use tonight. There were a few options available, and as always, he didn't decide on the details until things got underway. He set the box on the coffee table, next to his med kit. The only tool he left visible on the table was the tricorder. Other things would be set out as needed, when the time was right.
With that, he pulled a clean scrub top over his undershirt, slumped into his chair, and instructed the computer to increase the temperature in the room. He grabbed the PADD from the coffee table and tapped the screen to call up the biosensor readings from the monitor on Jim's wrist. His eyebrow immediately shot up.
With more than fifteen minutes left to go, Jim was already waiting outside the dorm room door... and he was pacing. By the looks of it, he was also nervous as hell. Elevated heart rate, evidence of muscle tremors. Judging by the blood glucose levels, he probably hadn't eaten lunch. Maybe skipped breakfast, too. The kid was really working himself into a state. Leonard frowned his concern at the PADD screen, but didn't move from the chair. No, he had to let Jim work this out himself, and hit the hailing chime when he was ready. For the first time since the previous night, Leonard really wasn't sure what Jim would say when he finally walked through the door.
The minutes ticked by. Leonard's gaze wavered between the PADD and the door. Jim would pace, then stop, then pace again. Damn, the kid was anxious. 1857 hours. 1859 hours. 1900. 1902. Leonard frowned. 1905. With a grumble, Leonard put the PADD down on the coffee table and started to move towards the door when the chime sounded. Breathing a sigh of both relief and renewed nervousness of his own, he said, "Come in, Jim."
The door opened, and Jim walked in looking peaky and anxious, but he squared his jaw and looked Bones straight in the eye and asked, "So, what's the prognosis, Bones?"
Leonard wanted to rush forward and grab Jim into a hug, partially out of relief, and partially to keep the kid from tipping over, but instead he gave him a sincere look of disapproval. "Jesus, Jim, you look like hell." He grabbed Jim by the arm, but instead of leading him to the table, he sat him down in the armchair. "I mean it, Jim. You seriously look like hell. Did you sleep at all last night?"
"I had to study."
Leonard fixed him with a sharp glare as he grabbed his tricorder. "Jim, let's get one thing straight right now. Don't ever lie to me in here. Don't even avoid answering a question. Got it?" At Jim's reluctant nod, Leonard said, "Good. Now try it again."
Jim shrugged. "Kinda hard to sleep when your mind is racing at warp seven."
"Hmmm," Leonard hummed, studying the readout. "And when was the last time you ate anything?"
"I had dinner."
"Jim."
"Yesterday."
Leonard gritted his teeth in frustration. "I told you to take care of yourself. I can't let you play these games when you're running on fumes." He put down the tricorder and gave Jim a level stare. "If we do this again, you make sure you've had a healthy meal about two or three hours before arriving. Got it?"
"Yes, Bones," Jim said quietly.
Another thought occurred to Leonard, and he furrowed his eyebrows. "Jim, you didn't do that on purpose, did you?"
Vehemently shaking his head, Jim blurted out in a rush, "No! I seriously... I couldn't sleep, Bones. And... I was so fucking nervous that it made me nauseous. Went to the mess hall for lunch and I had to leave. I'm sorry. I have no idea what you've got in mind, but if I've fucked it up for the day, I can leave -"
Before Jim's move to stand up had become more than a twitch, Leonard had his hand on Jim's shoulder, holding him in place, unable to ignore his own momentary flash of panic that he'd scared Jim off before they'd even started. "No, Jim. Stay." Please stay. "And listen for a minute. I told you that if you walked back through that door and asked for the prognosis, that I'd take care of you. So that's what I'm going to do." He reached over and grabbed his med kit and began rummaging around as he spoke. "But in the meantime, you listen up a bit." He found the vial he was looking for - a basic nutrient booster - and snapped it into a hypospray.
"What's that?" Jim asked nervously.
"Easy, Jim. That's the first thing I'm going to tell you." He held up the hypospray. "Everything I ever do to you, whether I'm treating an actual injury or indulging in a bit of recreation, I'll let you know what I'm doing, what I'm using, and how it's going to effect you. This, for example, is functional medical treatment - just a nutrient supplement because you haven't eaten all day. B-vitamins, electrolytes, and glucose." He reached over and pressed it against Jim's neck. Jim flinched at the sting, but didn't even start to duck away. Leonard nodded in approval. "This will hold you for an hour. After we're done, you're staying here and having a bite to eat."
"Okay," Jim said, lightly rubbing the spot on his neck where the hypospray had connected.
"Second," Leonard said, discarding the empty cartridge and placing the hypospray back on the table, "before we do this again, we're going to have to discuss details. And don't cower away from it, Jim. You can't do this stuff without open communication. I need to know what you want, what you don't want, what you think you might want, and what you never want under any circumstances. In detail. Got it?"
Jim nodded.
"Say it out loud."
"Yes, Sir."
Leonard raised an eyebrow at how smoothly the 'Sir" had rolled off Jim's lips, but how odd it still sounded. "I'm not a 'sir,' Jim."
Jim glanced at him questioningly, and his mouth formed a small "o" as he realized what Leonard meant. "Yes, Doctor."
The sight of a compliant and agreeable Jim Kirk calling him 'doctor' was a pleasure that Leonard hadn't thought he'd ever experience, and he let the small thrill of it work its way up his spine. Now if only I could get him to do that the rest of the time, he thought cynically, but still, this alone was almost enough to make the whole venture worthwhile. On the surface, he only gave a slight smile of approval with a nod of his head. "That's better."
Just faintly, Jim blushed.
Much better, Leonard thought happily. Then he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and folding his hands in front of him. "Now, normally, I wouldn't do any of this without a thorough discussion and negotiations first, but since when have I done anything the normal way with you?"
Jim tried for a sly smile, failing miserably, and Leonard rolled his eyes.
"Yeah. I think I know you well enough to get started. For today, we're going to keep it simple. No fancy, embarrassing safewords. That's not my style anyway. If I ask you a question, you answer it straight up. Other than that, the key words are red, yellow, and green. Green should be obvious. If you say 'yellow,' I'll slow down, pause, wait, or ease up on whatever I'm doing, and I'll wait for you to tell me if you're ready to continue or if you need to stop. 'Red' means 'stop everything.' It means the scene is over immediately, completely, and I'll bring you back down and help you come back to yourself. And Jim, if you need to stop, you better damn well say something, you understand?"
Jim only furrowed his eyebrows in an unspoken question.
Leonard had to hold back a growl. "Don't play that game with me, Jim. I know you're the tough guy, and you like to prove just how much you can take. I already know how tough you are, so don't try to prove anything here. That's not what this is about."
"I know," he said hoarsely. "I get that."
"Then get this, Jim - you're here because you trust me. You've got to trust that I'm not going to do anything without your consent, and that the instant you need it to stop, I'll stop." He leaned closer. "And just the same, I need to trust you to be honest with me. That means that if you need to stop, you say so."
"Yes, Doctor," he said again, but it was a weak sort of whisper, and he was looking down.
Leonard frowned. Sure, he wanted Jim to listen, to be a bit quieter than usual, but even so, this was just too quiet and nervous for the kid. "Jim, if this is too much, you don't have to do it. If you're not ready, we don't have to do it today." He reached out and lightly touched Jim's chin, prompting him to look up. When he finally made eye contact, Leonard said, "I'm not your Master, Jim. That's not my thing. I don't get off on making people do things they don't want to do. I'm pretty sure you want to do this, but if you look like a lamb being led to the slaughter, I won't be able to handle that. So tell me - do you want this?"
Jim's Adam's Apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Yes, I do."
Leonard gave Jim a long, scrutinizing look, hunting for any sign of uncertainty in his eyes, silently fearful that he'd find it. If he did, then it was over before it could begin. "Are you sure, Jim?"
The hesitation slowly resolved into something more brighter - the spark of trust and willingness, even eagerness, that he needed to see before he could start. Still clouded by nervousness, but it was there. "Yes."
It was all Leonard could do to keep from letting out a long breath of relief. He was nervous, but he couldn't let Jim see it. It was Jim's place to be nervous just then, and Leonard's job to keep it all together. "Okay then," he said as he stood, stretching his shoulders. Right to the point, he gestured towards the massage table, feeling like he was ushering Jim through a forbidden door into his own little secret. Forcing himself to keep his voice steady, calm, clinical, he said, "Stand up, take your clothes off, and hop up on the table there."
Leonard stepped back and gave Jim room, watching him as he kicked off his shoes, then methodically removed his shirt, then his pants, folding each item neatly and placing it on the chair. He hesitated for a moment, then pulled off his underwear. The only item left on his body was the monitor bracelet, still clamped tightly to the skin above his wrist. Stepping awkwardly, he crossed the room to the table. It was the first time in the almost two years he'd known Jim that Leonard thought he looked uneasy being naked. He wondered about that - why Jim would look so uneasy about his own nudity - but also couldn't help but take the opportunity to enjoy a good look.
He'd always known it was a nice view. He'd seen Jim naked in locker rooms, and to his displeasure a couple of times in the operating room, but for the first time, he felt like he was allowed to really take it in. Couldn't suppress a grin at the sight. The kid sure kept himself fit, beyond the basic requirements for a Starfleet cadet. Always had to be the best, and if that body was anything to go by, he was measuring up in that category, too. More than just his body, though, the fact that it was Jim sent a little thrill through him. There was something indefinable about their friendship, something that blurred lines they both hadn't bothered to delineate, and the sight of Jim right there, naked at his command, somehow suggested that a new line had been drawn. The flush of heat Leonard felt across his face told him that he liked it.
Still half-watching Jim as he hopped up onto the table, Leonard grabbed his PADD and checked the readout from the monitor bracelet.
Oh yeah, the kid was nervous. Which meant the first thing to do would be to get him to relax a bit.
*********
To Part 3...
Author:
mijan Artist:
lizardspots Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: BDSM. Needleplay. Sounding.
Link to previous section: Part 1
And now the continuation...
Jim's eyes had gone wide, as if he couldn't believe he'd said that aloud. "I don't mean… it's not that…"
"I turned you away," Leonard said, feeling a twist of guilt. If Jim was this worked up, then it was clearly something that was important to him, and Leonard had brushed him off. Kicked him out. "That's why you were here earlier, isn't it?"
With a barely perceptible nod, Jim whispered, "Yeah. I had decided not to say anything after you kicked me out of the room. Never got to ask earlier, so I wasn’t going to ask at all."
"And I turned you away," Leonard said again, hating himself at that moment.
Jim shrugged and looked aside. "You had to study, and I was being an ass. I can't blame you. Besides… this isn't the sort of shit that I can just ask people."
"Even me?"
"Especially you." He chuckled dryly, in contrast to the flushed look that was spreading across his face and ears. "Most people's opinions don't matter much to me, Bones, but yours does. You're the person I trust. Which is why talking to you about something… touchy… is both the most obvious thing, and the most risky. If I freak you out –"
"Wait, Jim… just wait a second." Leonard thought carefully for a moment about how he was going to say this. "You once asked me for a detailed explanation of the physiology for how a human male could initiate intercourse with a Bolian woman. You clearly didn't worry about causing me to 'freak out' that time, and you didn't even flinch when I started describing the potential impacts on the male anatomy."
"So?" Jim asked warily.
"So... you clearly don't have a problem asking me all sorts of crazy things. Do you just want to ask me questions about this… or do you want me to do something about it?" When the vivid red blush on Jim's face went about three shades darker, Leonard knew he didn't even need to wait for a response. He leaned his forehead into his hand and rubbed his temples. "Goddammit Jim."
The bed bounced as Jim suddenly launched himself off of it, babbling. "Listen, I'm sorry I bothered you. You've got studying to do, and I've already taken enough of your time. Thanks for patching me up, and for not reporting this, and let's just pretend I never said any of this, and it'll be –"
"Jim."
The kid froze about two steps from the door, just barely outside the range to trigger opening it. "What?" It came out as a squeak.
"I didn't say 'no.'" Leonard stood and crossed the room to Jim, watching him carefully. The kid was actually trembling, almost imperceptibly. "I also didn't take you for a bottom," Leonard said calmly, standing just outside of Jim's personal space.
"I'm not," he said quickly – too quickly.
Leonard narrowed his eyes.
"I'm not," Jim said, more slowly this time, "but there are just… certain things I really want to try. And getting myself choked to death wasn't actually on the list. That was… just what I could think of at the time. Something that seemed easy, like anyone could do it."
"Oh?" Leonard cocked his head to the side, frowning, appraising Jim. "You want stuff that not everyone could do, is that it?"
"Uh…"
Leonard clenched his jaw for a moment, considering this. He'd never mentioned it to Jim, mostly because he'd never seen a reason to, but he was no stranger to some of the more unusual sexual exploits. As a doctor, he'd been propositioned for it quite a few times just on that fact alone. And, to be fully honest, he rather enjoyed it.
"It's not just because I'm your friend, is it, Jim?" He stepped decisively into Jim's personal space, and taking a calculated gamble, reached out and grabbed Jim's wrist, making it clear that he was reaching for Jim's pulse. Not only was the kid's pulse racing, but Jim definitely flushed even redder. Suspicions confirmed. "Well I'll be damned. You've got a medical kink, don't you?"
Jim pulled his wrist out of Leonard's grasp and pushed past him back into the room. "How the hell should I know, Bones?" He stalked across the room and sat on the arm of the couch, a bundle of nervous energy, almost twitching with blatant anxiety. "I've never done it before. And I hate doctors."
Leonard raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't know about that, Jim. You seem to get along with me well enough."
"You're different," he mumbled.
It was all Leonard could to to keep from smirking, but he couldn't let himself do that just then. Jim had moved back into the room, not out the door; the kid wanted to be here. In turn, Leonard had to play his cards carefully to keep Jim from running. "How's that, Jim? Because I'm your friend, too? Because you're comfortable with me, at least as a friend?"
Jim shrugged.
"Or is it because you've decided that you trust me, even as a doctor?" Jim didn't move, but Leonard could hear the unspoken agreement anyway. "I know that doctors make you uncomfortable, kid; they put you out of your comfort zone because they take control away from you. Jim, I've known you for over a year and a half, and I've seen you injured enough times to know the pattern. You don't give a shit about the injury, but you're consistently embarrassed about something. I think I'm starting understand what."
"I… I just hate being a patient." He looked away and stared at the far wall, eyes as blank as he could make them.
Leonard shook his head, letting the psychological analysis spin in his mind. There were times when a doctorate in psych actually came in handy. He'd seen this before, and he knew Jim well enough to fill in the gaps. "You hate being seen as a patient," he stated, calmly and clinically. "You hate the awkwardness of being helpless in front of people, because it's too personal. You do hate being weak, but… I think the rest of it makes you edgy. I think it fascinates you... the things that can be done to the human body... to your body."
Jim visibly shivered, and Leonard knew he'd hit the nail on the head.
"Maybe nobody else would notice, but for some unknowable reason, I've got this odd habit of paying attention to you." He took a couple of steps towards Jim, arms still folded over his chest. "You usually get really quiet when I stick a regen unit on you. You squirm when I scan you with a tricorder. And that time you woke up after two days at Starfleet Medical after that goddamned shuttlecraft accident, and you realized you had an IV in your hand… you were staring at it with this sort of morbid fascination until you noticed I was watching you, and then you tried to order me to remove it." He snorted in amusement at the memory, realizing the significance all these months later. "Nice try, by the way. But I think you actually liked it when I told you that it was staying put for a couple of days."
The only reaction from Jim was that he swallowed nervously and clenched his jaw. He said nothing, and his burning personal shame was palpable.
That was the last thing Leonard had meant to do. He pressed his lips together, then sighed tightly, wondering if he'd pushed too far. "Come on, Jim. It's nothing to feel strange about," he said, hoping that might help.
Jim managed a derisive snort. "Ha. 's funny," he grunted, just barely audible.
Leonard shook his head, reconsidering how to approach this, then started walking towards Jim again. "Listen, Jim... you like being the tough guy. I get that. You probably define yourself in the bedroom with the same macho attitude that you use on everything else you do. But if you want to step outside of your comfort zone for a change, then you've gotta be honest here. I think you've never had anyone take care of you in your life - never let anyone take care of you - and you crave it. I think the awareness of your own body makes you feel more alive, the forced loss of control gives you an excuse not to be in control for a change. And I think that if you could have that on your own terms, behind closed doors, with someone you trust... it would be the best goddamned thing you could imagine." He stopped right in front of Jim, looking down at him like cornered prey. "Am I right?"
Jim wasn't looking up. He was staring straight ahead, as if he could see right through Leonard's stomach and out the other side. He was breathing just a bit too quickly, a bit too shallowly, and his left hand was clenching and unclenching over and over like a nervous habit. He looked like he was trying to shake his head but couldn't.
"Jim," Leonard said softly.
Finally, Jim glanced up; defeat, embarrassment, and a distant glimmer of hope churned in his eyes. "Yeah," he whispered hoarsely, then let his head drop again. "Fuck it all, but yeah. This is so embarrassing."
"Why?" Leonard asked neutrally, doing his best not to attach any sort of qualification to the question, wanting Jim to fill in the blanks himself.
"Because," he choked, "you've just read me like a goddamned book, and nobody has ever done that." He swallowed convulsively and closed his eyes, as if he couldn't bear to face this. "Because this is the part where I find out if you think I'm a freak or out of my mind or laughable or ludicrous and you decide I'm not worth your trouble or this is some stupid thing that should be ignored or that you don't want to speak to me again…" He paused and glanced up one more time, and Leonard thought there might have been a rim of wetness around his eyes. "Or I find out that you're taking me seriously."
Gently, ever so gently, Leonard put his hands on Jim's shoulders, and crouched down so that Jim's eye-level was above his own. For all the times he'd happily razzed or mocked Jim with casual banter, this wasn't the time to do that. He gave Jim the most sincere look he could manage. "Jim, I already think you're out of your goddamned mind for half of the ludicrous, laughable, freakish stuff you do, but not for this. And I will always, always take you seriously when you need me to."
"But this is... I don't know, Bones... this is just weird."
Leonard dropped his hands from Jim's shoulders, but didn't back away. "Well, it's not standard for everyone," he admitted plainly, "but how would you define weird? In this day and age, folks are hooking up with sentient beings of other species from other planets and discovering whole new definitions of sex and pleasure. And you - I mean, seriously, Jim, you've probably tried more wild and weird things than anyone else I know, if your boasts are even fractionally true. Why is this different?"
Jim hesitated, then sighed. "You said it yourself. Because it's personal."
There was something else unsaid. Leonard raised an eyebrow, silently demanding the rest of the answer.
"And because... because it would be asking for something."
Leaning back on his heels, Leonard let it all weave together. He considered this new, but not entirely out-of-place discovery about his friend, realizing that this might be the most open, honest thing Jim had ever told him. If there was one thing he knew about Jim, it was that the kid didn't ask for anything. Sure, sometimes Jim would impose himself on people, showing up with that confident, exuberant presence that glowed white-hot like a star around which everything and everyone else revolved, but it was true - he never asked for anything. Never let on that he needed anything, even when it was obvious that he did... even medical treatment. Especially medical treatment.
In the almost-two years that he'd known Jim, Leonard had become accustomed to all-but-forcing Jim to take care of himself. No matter how much Jim protested, he knew who would win. And now, Leonard understood - even as he'd resisted, Jim had wanted him to win. For once in Jim's life, someone else was taking control... but was taking care of him, not hurting him. No wonder the kid latched onto me from the start, Leonard mused, remembering the day they'd stumbled off the shuttlecraft in the Academy's main hangar, and how he'd dragged Jim to the infirmary against all protestations. He remembered how Jim had refused to cooperate with the infirmary personnel until Leonard had shown the duty doc his own credentials and clearance, and had been allowed to take over Jim's treatment.
Sure, Jim had continued to resist until he'd drawn the privacy curtain, but then the kid had become absolutely compliant, even though he'd continued to verbally protest until Leonard began treatment. He remembered how the hyper-talkative Jim Kirk had gone absolutely silent as he'd run the tricorder scan, then set the osteo-regenerator unit on his broken nose. He remembered the faint shudder as he'd explored the newly mended skin and muscle with his fingers, testing and prodding to make sure everything had healed right, trusting his own sense of touch more than just a digital readout on a scanner. And he remembered how Jim had hovered just a few inches closer to him as they'd left the infirmary, shoulders almost brushing together as they'd walked.
Yeah, the kid needed this in a way he probably didn't even realize.
"Well, Jim," Leonard began slowly, standing as he spoke, "I'm not going to let you ask for anything."
In an instant, Jim looked absolutely crestfallen and wounded, but Leonard kept talking. "What I am going to do is give you a set of instructions." He walked back over to his med kit where it was sitting open on the floor and began fishing around. When he found the monitor he was looking for, he returned to Jim. "Hold out your arm."
"Uh... Bones? What are you doing?"
Leonard just looked steadily at Jim until the kid shivered and held out his arm. Not hesitating, Leonard pulled Jim's sleeve up, explaining as he fastened the device just above Jim's wrist bone. "I need to get some studying done, and so do you. However, after your little adventure earlier, I can't take the risk of you having complications. Maybe you don't think it's a big deal, but suffocation is not a goddamned joke, Jim. I'm probably just being too damned nice to you, but I did promise not to drag you to the infirmary. Instead, you wear this monitor for the next twenty-four hours." Jim shivered again, almost imperceptibly, as the monitor activated, clamping down onto his skin, instantly reading all his major vital signs. "I'll patch the signal back into my PADD. That way, if you have complications... or if you decide to pull another stupid stunt tonight instead of listening to my better judgment... I'll know." Leonard leaned in closer as he pulled Jim's sleeve down over the monitor, hiding it. "And believe me, I'll know."
Jim met his eyes for just a few seconds before he looked down at his arm, and spoke just above a whisper. "Why?" was all he said, but Leonard knew what he meant.
"Because, Jim," Leonard said softly, "I enjoy looking out for you." He clapped Jim lightly on the shoulder. "I have a midterm exam tomorrow, and I know you have at least one, too. But tomorrow is Friday, and then we've got the whole weekend. And I... expect to see you back here tomorrow night at 1900 hours for a follow-up. Do you understand me?"
"I... yes."
Leonard nodded. "Now, here are the rules. If you come through that door tomorrow night, hold out your arm, and say, 'I'm fine,' then the game is over. I'll take off the monitor, and if you want, I'll never mention this again. I don't get off on pressuring people into doing things they don't want to do. Not my game. But if you come through that door and ask, 'What's the prognosis?'... then you follow my instructions, and I promise I'll take good care of you." He kept it simple, letting Jim's imagination fill in the rest, which he was sure must have been detailed, by the way Jim's eyes widened just slightly. "Got it?"
Swallowing nervously, Jim nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I got it." He stood, took a half-step towards the door, then stopped. He glanced back at Bones uneasily, an unspoken question hovering behind his eyes.
"What, Jim?"
"You've done this before?" he asked, his voice breathy with astonishment.
Leonard finally grinned. "Oh yeah," he drawled easily. "Come on, Jim, you didn't think I was a prude, did you?"
"Well, no, but..." There was a sharp intake of breath, and Jim shook his head in stunned amazement. "Damn, Bones. Now I don't know what to think."
"Who said you had to think?"
Jim blinked a few times, processing that. "Shit. You... you're into this sort of thing?"
At that, Leonard had to chuckle. "Jim, I figured you'd be the first to realize that most doctors have a bit of a sadistic streak. Including me." He enjoyed the shudder that worked its way up Jim's spine, and let a sly edge tint his grin. "I've... explored that a bit. Yeah, I'm into it. It's been a while, and I think this might be fun."
Another little spark of hope seemed to light behind Jim's wary expression, but then he frowned. "I don't want to burden you."
Leonard couldn't hold back the sarcastic snort. "Think about that the next time you get too drunk to walk straight and I have to half-carry you home. You're heavy, you know that?" It was clearly the wrong thing to say, as Jim seemed to close up again, looking down at his feet. Leonard reached up and put his hands on Jim's shoulders. "Jim, if I didn't want to do this, I wouldn't do it, plain and simple. It's not a burden. Not in the slightest. I intend to enjoy this, too. Got it?"
Jim nodded, but didn't look up.
"Jim? Hey, are you okay?"
Silently, Jim nodded again, hesitated, then shook his head, just a bit. "Just feeling a bit... raw right now."
Frowning, Leonard looked Jim in the eyes. The kid had just revealed something that was obviously extremely personal, and Leonard knew that a lot of people who discovered their kinky side went through a gauntlet of emotions about it - fear, guilt, shame. It was especially true of people whose emotional lives hadn't been great to begin with. Jim had a very comfortable mask of confidence that he wore, but he held it in place with his secrets and his privacy. He'd just torn away one of those secrets that he'd clearly held very tightly, and the normally confident, cocky Jim Kirk had been left exposed and vulnerable.
He let his frown soften into something that could have been mistaken for a smile. "I understand." And before Jim could protest, Leonard pulled him into a tight, secure hug and held him for a moment, feeling both protective and even a touch possessive. "Don't feel embarrassed, Jim, and don't feel guilty unless you go out and hurt yourself - which you'd better not do. Got it?" He felt Jim nod against his shoulder, and he broke the embrace. "Okay then, you go back to your dorm room and study. Take care of yourself, and get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow night."
"Okay." And without another word, Jim turned around and walked out the door, his footsteps tentative and reserved, not the bold stride he normally used.
Leonard watched him go, and after a moment of staring thoughtfully at the closed door, he went and sat down on his couch, putting his feet up and leaning back. This was certainly an unexpected development, but not an unwelcome one. Well, he didn't exactly welcome the manner in which he'd discovered this - generally, he didn't prefer to find his friends unconscious on the floor. He wanted to be angry at himself for having kicked Jim out earlier, but he'd had no way of knowing what Jim had really been looking for. Hell, he had to wonder if Jim knew what Jim was looking for. Perhaps he wanted nothing more than the physical rush, but somehow Leonard didn't quite buy that. Perhaps it was the psychological thrill, but Leonard suspected something deeper. He was sure it wasn't about the sexual gratification, because whatever else Jim hadn't quite mastered in his life, the act of the good hard fuck was something of an art form to the kid. Whatever the deeper motivation and the real goal might be, however, he would guess that Jim wouldn't want it from anyone else... but that was okay. Strangely, Leonard rather liked that idea.
One thing he knew, with absolute certainty, was that he did enjoy taking care of Jim, even when the kid exasperated him beyond all measure. Enjoyed giving Jim what he needed, even when he couldn't ask for it. In a way, he had to admit, he felt possessive of him. Jim had listed him as his primary physician within a month of meeting him, and his primary contact before the end of their first semester. It was more trust than he'd ever shown towards anyone else, but he still kept his own walls in place, his own fortress and facade of self-reliance, his need to appear unquestionably independent. He'd never fully let himself go. Jim had saved Leonard's life once, and he trusted Jim explicitly and implicitly. Maybe Jim needed to feel that sort of trust for someone else.
Only tomorrow would tell.
Shrugging to himself, Leonard reached over and grabbed his PADD. He activated the biomonitor program and tapped into the signal from the sensor he'd strapped to Jim's wrist.
For a few minutes, he watched the readouts on Jim's vital signs while musing over the situation. Heart rate, respiratory rate, blood pressure, adrenaline levels, oxygen saturation... really, when he thought about it, this stuff was intimate information; every physical measure of Jim was there on his screen for him to read. Even his location could be tracked. Leonard got a funny feeling in his gut when he realized that, in essence, he'd just stuck the equivalent of a training collar on Jim. It hadn't been his intent, but that was essentially what he'd done, and he wondered if Jim would recognize the possible implication. Even more, he wondered if he should feel guilty for the twist of pleasure the idea gave him, but he didn't.
Jim was moving slowly across campus. Adrenaline high, heart rate elevated, respiration more rapid than it needed to be, but he seemed okay. The tracker followed him across the campus quad, past his own dorm, and out to the old wooden pier on the edge of campus. It was an unseasonably warm spring evening, and Leonard could almost picture Jim wandering out onto the pier, sitting on the edge, and dangling his feet over the side as he listened to the wind and the waves, trying to see the Bridge through the fog. Jim did that sometimes; he said it helped him to relax. Slowly, Jim's adrenaline level dropped back to normal, his heart rate slowed, and his breathing evened out. Leonard smiled at that. There would be plenty of time to kick those things into high gear tomorrow night. For now, Jim needed space to think, and it was good that he was calming down.
Leonard knew he had to study, but even with his class materials displayed on another panel, he kept watching Jim's monitor display until the kid began moving again, back towards his dorm, at a much more lively pace. Jim's normal pace.
Yeah, the kid would be fine.
*********
Leonard had to admit to himself that he was feeling just a tiny bit nervous as he waited for 1900 hours to arrive. Well, maybe more than a tiny bit. It had been a long time since he'd staged a scene like this, and he'd never done it with someone who was as close of a friend as Jim was. Never did this with someone who mattered like Jim did. Never with someone when he was so deeply concerned that if it went wrong, it could ruin something too valuable to lose. When he was in Dom mode, it was easy to be confident. Now, while waiting, wondering if Jim was even going to agree to this, he was left dangling and uncertain.
He'd done his best to keep up the distractions all day so he wouldn't harp on it too much. His midterm exam had gone smoothly that morning, and a clinic shift had kept him busy enough for the afternoon. While he was there, he'd made sure to restock his med kit, too. Then, it was back to his dorm room for a shower, a light dinner... and preparations.
His coffee table and chair had been pushed out of the way, making space for the massage table he'd set up, tucked into the sitting area, just out of the line-of-sight from the door. A surprisingly handy piece of furniture, he'd learned, after a rotation in an orthopedics and physical therapy clinic - it could be folded and tucked into a closet, but once set up, it was just the right height for a myriad of amusing pastimes. Much better for this sort of thing than a bed. His bed had enjoyed little recreation in recent months, and the massage table even less. He'd been too busy to think about it much lately, but he missed it, like a small piece of himself had been set aside in a box and forgotten.
This was different and yet the same as what he did in his real line of work; in both, there was the satisfying sense of knowing how to give someone exactly what they needed. When he'd first begun exploring his kinkier side, he'd felt guilty, then hesitant, wondering if he was violating some unspoken ethical code of his profession. But then he realized that when done right, BDSM was just another way of taking care of people. Sometimes a person needed physical healing, sometimes pleasure, sometimes pain, release, catharsis, compassion, or perhaps a delicate combination of all of those things. His own pleasure was in giving those things, and doing it well. An even deeper pleasure came from being trusted to do those things well. He'd tried to ignore that fact, but he craved that trust from Jim in a way that couldn't be put into words.
Very few women and even fewer men had ever been welcomed into his bedroom for such activities; he was very selective about the people he chose to invite. He'd never imagined he'd have reason to invite Jim. Never considered the possibility that Jim might be seeking such things. Never thought he'd have Jim stretched out on the table, waiting for his hands, waiting for his talents. The mental image sent a small jolt through his stomach as he stood staring at the table before he finally was able to pry his eyes away from it.
From the bottom drawer of his dresser, he pulled out a small box. The tools of the trade, or at least the ones he figured he might use tonight. There were a few options available, and as always, he didn't decide on the details until things got underway. He set the box on the coffee table, next to his med kit. The only tool he left visible on the table was the tricorder. Other things would be set out as needed, when the time was right.
With that, he pulled a clean scrub top over his undershirt, slumped into his chair, and instructed the computer to increase the temperature in the room. He grabbed the PADD from the coffee table and tapped the screen to call up the biosensor readings from the monitor on Jim's wrist. His eyebrow immediately shot up.
With more than fifteen minutes left to go, Jim was already waiting outside the dorm room door... and he was pacing. By the looks of it, he was also nervous as hell. Elevated heart rate, evidence of muscle tremors. Judging by the blood glucose levels, he probably hadn't eaten lunch. Maybe skipped breakfast, too. The kid was really working himself into a state. Leonard frowned his concern at the PADD screen, but didn't move from the chair. No, he had to let Jim work this out himself, and hit the hailing chime when he was ready. For the first time since the previous night, Leonard really wasn't sure what Jim would say when he finally walked through the door.
The minutes ticked by. Leonard's gaze wavered between the PADD and the door. Jim would pace, then stop, then pace again. Damn, the kid was anxious. 1857 hours. 1859 hours. 1900. 1902. Leonard frowned. 1905. With a grumble, Leonard put the PADD down on the coffee table and started to move towards the door when the chime sounded. Breathing a sigh of both relief and renewed nervousness of his own, he said, "Come in, Jim."
The door opened, and Jim walked in looking peaky and anxious, but he squared his jaw and looked Bones straight in the eye and asked, "So, what's the prognosis, Bones?"
Leonard wanted to rush forward and grab Jim into a hug, partially out of relief, and partially to keep the kid from tipping over, but instead he gave him a sincere look of disapproval. "Jesus, Jim, you look like hell." He grabbed Jim by the arm, but instead of leading him to the table, he sat him down in the armchair. "I mean it, Jim. You seriously look like hell. Did you sleep at all last night?"
"I had to study."
Leonard fixed him with a sharp glare as he grabbed his tricorder. "Jim, let's get one thing straight right now. Don't ever lie to me in here. Don't even avoid answering a question. Got it?" At Jim's reluctant nod, Leonard said, "Good. Now try it again."
Jim shrugged. "Kinda hard to sleep when your mind is racing at warp seven."
"Hmmm," Leonard hummed, studying the readout. "And when was the last time you ate anything?"
"I had dinner."
"Jim."
"Yesterday."
Leonard gritted his teeth in frustration. "I told you to take care of yourself. I can't let you play these games when you're running on fumes." He put down the tricorder and gave Jim a level stare. "If we do this again, you make sure you've had a healthy meal about two or three hours before arriving. Got it?"
"Yes, Bones," Jim said quietly.
Another thought occurred to Leonard, and he furrowed his eyebrows. "Jim, you didn't do that on purpose, did you?"
Vehemently shaking his head, Jim blurted out in a rush, "No! I seriously... I couldn't sleep, Bones. And... I was so fucking nervous that it made me nauseous. Went to the mess hall for lunch and I had to leave. I'm sorry. I have no idea what you've got in mind, but if I've fucked it up for the day, I can leave -"
Before Jim's move to stand up had become more than a twitch, Leonard had his hand on Jim's shoulder, holding him in place, unable to ignore his own momentary flash of panic that he'd scared Jim off before they'd even started. "No, Jim. Stay." Please stay. "And listen for a minute. I told you that if you walked back through that door and asked for the prognosis, that I'd take care of you. So that's what I'm going to do." He reached over and grabbed his med kit and began rummaging around as he spoke. "But in the meantime, you listen up a bit." He found the vial he was looking for - a basic nutrient booster - and snapped it into a hypospray.
"What's that?" Jim asked nervously.
"Easy, Jim. That's the first thing I'm going to tell you." He held up the hypospray. "Everything I ever do to you, whether I'm treating an actual injury or indulging in a bit of recreation, I'll let you know what I'm doing, what I'm using, and how it's going to effect you. This, for example, is functional medical treatment - just a nutrient supplement because you haven't eaten all day. B-vitamins, electrolytes, and glucose." He reached over and pressed it against Jim's neck. Jim flinched at the sting, but didn't even start to duck away. Leonard nodded in approval. "This will hold you for an hour. After we're done, you're staying here and having a bite to eat."
"Okay," Jim said, lightly rubbing the spot on his neck where the hypospray had connected.
"Second," Leonard said, discarding the empty cartridge and placing the hypospray back on the table, "before we do this again, we're going to have to discuss details. And don't cower away from it, Jim. You can't do this stuff without open communication. I need to know what you want, what you don't want, what you think you might want, and what you never want under any circumstances. In detail. Got it?"
Jim nodded.
"Say it out loud."
"Yes, Sir."
Leonard raised an eyebrow at how smoothly the 'Sir" had rolled off Jim's lips, but how odd it still sounded. "I'm not a 'sir,' Jim."
Jim glanced at him questioningly, and his mouth formed a small "o" as he realized what Leonard meant. "Yes, Doctor."
The sight of a compliant and agreeable Jim Kirk calling him 'doctor' was a pleasure that Leonard hadn't thought he'd ever experience, and he let the small thrill of it work its way up his spine. Now if only I could get him to do that the rest of the time, he thought cynically, but still, this alone was almost enough to make the whole venture worthwhile. On the surface, he only gave a slight smile of approval with a nod of his head. "That's better."
Just faintly, Jim blushed.
Much better, Leonard thought happily. Then he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and folding his hands in front of him. "Now, normally, I wouldn't do any of this without a thorough discussion and negotiations first, but since when have I done anything the normal way with you?"
Jim tried for a sly smile, failing miserably, and Leonard rolled his eyes.
"Yeah. I think I know you well enough to get started. For today, we're going to keep it simple. No fancy, embarrassing safewords. That's not my style anyway. If I ask you a question, you answer it straight up. Other than that, the key words are red, yellow, and green. Green should be obvious. If you say 'yellow,' I'll slow down, pause, wait, or ease up on whatever I'm doing, and I'll wait for you to tell me if you're ready to continue or if you need to stop. 'Red' means 'stop everything.' It means the scene is over immediately, completely, and I'll bring you back down and help you come back to yourself. And Jim, if you need to stop, you better damn well say something, you understand?"
Jim only furrowed his eyebrows in an unspoken question.
Leonard had to hold back a growl. "Don't play that game with me, Jim. I know you're the tough guy, and you like to prove just how much you can take. I already know how tough you are, so don't try to prove anything here. That's not what this is about."
"I know," he said hoarsely. "I get that."
"Then get this, Jim - you're here because you trust me. You've got to trust that I'm not going to do anything without your consent, and that the instant you need it to stop, I'll stop." He leaned closer. "And just the same, I need to trust you to be honest with me. That means that if you need to stop, you say so."
"Yes, Doctor," he said again, but it was a weak sort of whisper, and he was looking down.
Leonard frowned. Sure, he wanted Jim to listen, to be a bit quieter than usual, but even so, this was just too quiet and nervous for the kid. "Jim, if this is too much, you don't have to do it. If you're not ready, we don't have to do it today." He reached out and lightly touched Jim's chin, prompting him to look up. When he finally made eye contact, Leonard said, "I'm not your Master, Jim. That's not my thing. I don't get off on making people do things they don't want to do. I'm pretty sure you want to do this, but if you look like a lamb being led to the slaughter, I won't be able to handle that. So tell me - do you want this?"
Jim's Adam's Apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Yes, I do."
Leonard gave Jim a long, scrutinizing look, hunting for any sign of uncertainty in his eyes, silently fearful that he'd find it. If he did, then it was over before it could begin. "Are you sure, Jim?"
The hesitation slowly resolved into something more brighter - the spark of trust and willingness, even eagerness, that he needed to see before he could start. Still clouded by nervousness, but it was there. "Yes."
It was all Leonard could do to keep from letting out a long breath of relief. He was nervous, but he couldn't let Jim see it. It was Jim's place to be nervous just then, and Leonard's job to keep it all together. "Okay then," he said as he stood, stretching his shoulders. Right to the point, he gestured towards the massage table, feeling like he was ushering Jim through a forbidden door into his own little secret. Forcing himself to keep his voice steady, calm, clinical, he said, "Stand up, take your clothes off, and hop up on the table there."
Leonard stepped back and gave Jim room, watching him as he kicked off his shoes, then methodically removed his shirt, then his pants, folding each item neatly and placing it on the chair. He hesitated for a moment, then pulled off his underwear. The only item left on his body was the monitor bracelet, still clamped tightly to the skin above his wrist. Stepping awkwardly, he crossed the room to the table. It was the first time in the almost two years he'd known Jim that Leonard thought he looked uneasy being naked. He wondered about that - why Jim would look so uneasy about his own nudity - but also couldn't help but take the opportunity to enjoy a good look.
He'd always known it was a nice view. He'd seen Jim naked in locker rooms, and to his displeasure a couple of times in the operating room, but for the first time, he felt like he was allowed to really take it in. Couldn't suppress a grin at the sight. The kid sure kept himself fit, beyond the basic requirements for a Starfleet cadet. Always had to be the best, and if that body was anything to go by, he was measuring up in that category, too. More than just his body, though, the fact that it was Jim sent a little thrill through him. There was something indefinable about their friendship, something that blurred lines they both hadn't bothered to delineate, and the sight of Jim right there, naked at his command, somehow suggested that a new line had been drawn. The flush of heat Leonard felt across his face told him that he liked it.
Still half-watching Jim as he hopped up onto the table, Leonard grabbed his PADD and checked the readout from the monitor bracelet.
Oh yeah, the kid was nervous. Which meant the first thing to do would be to get him to relax a bit.
*********
To Part 3...
