[NVC Day 14, Night] -- [Passing Along the Bill] -- [Bill/Kirk]

[kirktastic]

It had been a far, far too long day at the trial. To say that Jim's mood was shit was, at best, an understatement. There was a deep part of him that didn't believe in the idea of fair trials. It was a part of him that had lived through Tarsus IV and watched good people be killed to 'ensure' the survival of others. It was a part of him that had been the genius-level repeat offender Pike had known, that had started off in the bad eyes of the law just trying to survive. It was a part of him that still rebelled against the fact he hadn't just killed Nero.

Jim would never understand the choice he had made in his own mind to kill Nero. He was sure that Jim's universe, in many ways, was just that different than this one. Against Nero, it had been a fight. It meant survival. Listening to the defense for Nero try to get him saved under the bullshit of being insane... Jim had no doubt the Romulan was completely and utterly insane, but he also knew that Nero was a very, very smart man who had known exactly what he was doing. Nero just didn't care that it was wrong. Eye for an eye.

Bones was gone, having gotten a comm from the hospital asking for his assistance with a human patient. The look in those dark eyes, a silent Will you be okay, Jim?, had briefly broken the spell of determination, anger, guilt, and resentment that had been around Jim all day. The faintest of smiles, a touch of their hands, and Bones had left.

Now he was alone and all of it was coming back. It was something he didn't want to feel, didn't want to be acting like this and feeling like his hands were dirty. He didn't want to feel guilty about Vulcan, didn't want to feel guilty because Jim insisted it was wrong.

His hand flexed at his side, the bones hurting down deep. The ache had started early in the day, and even with Bones having to massage it out of sight of any Vulcans when it had started to cramp, it was starting all over again. Maybe a shower's heat would soak the bone out of it, but he doubted. Hadn't helped before.

Jim walked down the hall of the guest quarters, heading for his room he was sharing with Bones.

Comments

[canadianbill.livejournal.com]

Evidently, Bill thought, as his stomach clenched in traitorous response, Kirk knew about his perverse affliction. Which....perhaps was actually some kind of suddenly dominant paederastic tendency, since apparently it wasn't limited to Tina.

He could feel his pupils dilating as his breath quickened in his throat, and that was - a very odd sensation.

"Oh?" he managed; licked his lip and swallowed, hard. He should step away. He needed to step away before the disease overpowered him and made him do something that would get him thrown off the ship.

He knew he was sick when his mind didn't even pause to wonder about the logistics of whether they would have to wait till they were back on the ship before he could be thrown off it.

"I think that might shock the Vulcans," he pointed out.

It was as if there was a charge leaping from his skin to Kirk's, a fine field of static drawing him closer. He should step away.

He took a step nearer, and curled his fingers around Kirk's wrists.

[kirktastic.livejournal.com]

Jim's body had to completely opposite reactions at exactly the same time. Reaction one was to curl his fingers over Bill's wrists, bend them hard to break Bill's grip, and shove him away. The second reaction was to step backwards, staring at those gold gold eyes, and try to ignore the sudden weird heat somewhere in his stomach.

One guess to figure out which reaction won out.

His eyes traced over Bill's lips (fuck they'd look gorgeous wrapped around him), the warmth of his skin...

What was he thinking? This was Bill, who was with Leonard, and Bones was supposed to be back shortly...

"Don't give a damn... about what the Vulcans think."

[canadianbill.livejournal.com]

Bill didn't notice his own failure to implement the 'stepping back' plan until Kirk enacted it himself, although his wrists were still loosely in Bill's grip, the strange warm charge still tingling where their skin touched.

"Isn't that against Starfleet regulations, not caring what the natives think?"

Damn, was 'natives' a politically incorrect term? The smell of Kirk was heated and young and fuck he really must be a pervert, because he was leaning in against his will to breathe him in, and it was really making it hard to remember the rules of political correctness. Maybe standing this close to a Starfleet captain was okay as long as you didn't try and put your hand on his backside where it suddenly wanted to go. Or maybe none of this had anything to do with political correctness at all. The underside of Kirk's jaw smelled of sweat and cologne, and apparently The Madness went for that.

[kirktastic.livejournal.com]

"...I... maybe..." It was almost impossible to think while Bill was this close. He could smell Bill this close, the faintest hint of an after shave, warmth and something he couldn't fully place. Maybe Bill's hands didn't wander, but Jim found himself sliding his arms around Bill, sliding down to his ass and squeezing.

"Bill what... are you...?" He took another deep breath, letting it out as a quiet sound.

[canadianbill.livejournal.com]

Bill wasn't doing anything. It was this something else, this strange drive that flooded him with heat, stole his breath and filled his mind with image after lecherous image. It was this - feeling - that drove him to press closer to Kirk, mouthing along the line of his jaw as he whispered, "Sorry - I don't - " and slid his arms around Kirk's waist.

Bill wasn't doing anything. He would plead temporary insanity.

[kirktastic.livejournal.com]

Jim's head tilted back, exposing his neck to Bill's mouth. The wet-heat of lips and tongue was pouring heat through him until it was hard to breathe, like the full weight of the Sha'Kwai noon-day sun. It only got far better worse when Bill pressed up against the length of him, and the step backward landed Jim's back against the hallway wall.

He pulled Bill's ass forward and gave a subtle grind of their hips together. "Bill, you... we gotta..." Had to do something but what did it matter when he was getting hard and Bill felt so damn good against him?

[canadianbill.livejournal.com]

He had to stop this, Bill thought; but it was as if there was some strange disconnect between his brain and his body, his thoughts drifting sluggish and slow through veins constricted by undirected, irresistible heat.

"I know," he breathed against the line of Kirk's jaw; "I have to get home."

His hands drifted of their own accord, hitching him closer, bringing his full weight to bear on Kirk. This was ridiculous, he thought; indecent and unfair, but the rest of him didn't want to listen to the voice of reason screaming in his brain; not when it could instead steer their mouths together, Bill's lips sealing over Kirk's, inadvisable and sure.

[kirktastic.livejournal.com]

A low groan passed between them as if their lips finally touching was everything Jim needed in that moment. He kissed back with a new and sudden hunger, thoughts of everything else going straight out the window. Bill tasted so good, a hint of something fruity amidst it all. His lips were soft and pliant and so hot against his. He pressed the tip of his tongue against Bill's lower lip, broke the contact only for a second to breath, and pressed right back in.

Jim ground their hips together in slow rocking motions, every part of him wanting to wrap his legs around Bill's waist and have the actor fuck him right there in the hall, against the wall. Bill's body moving against his, the look in his eyes, those gold eyes...

[canadianbill.livejournal.com]

Kirk tasted good, too; something about it familiar, a universal undercurrent of James T. Kirk that resonated hot on Bill's tongue. Kirk's hips against his sparked a slow burn between his legs, right where the strange pulsing drive wanted to be touched; right where - they really - shouldn't be doing this in the hallway.

Hell, they shouldn't be doing this at all.

He breathed in deep through his nose, steadying himself, and nipped at Kirk's lower lip. "We have to stop this," he managed, voice rough and low with arousal. "I don't know what - I mean - we're in the hallway."

We both owe it to our people to stop this right now kind of went - he hoped - unsaid. He pressed his forehead to Kirk's, biting his lip against the temptation just to seal their mouths back together, and breathed.

[kirktastic.livejournal.com]

...Talking?

Slowly, painfully against the heat, Jim's eyes crept back open. Something about stopping. No, no, fuck he didn't want to stop. His hands came up and cupped Bill's face, easing a gentle kiss again, tender some in intensity. Bill's voice was sex in his ears and the feel of him urged everything else on.

Jim was breathing harder than he would have liked, dizzy in arousal and so hard it almost hurt. His mind knew he wanted Bill, had wanted Bill, until Bill had told him Leonard would... Leonard...

"Shouldn't.." Oh but his body didn't give a damn what they shouldn't. He rubbed the edges of his thumb against Bill's throat, groaning against his mouth.

[canadianbill.livejournal.com]

And, fuck, it was unfair, this teasing, when he was already in a compromised state and of course all he wanted was to press back against Kirk (as he did, now), and thread his fingers through Kirk's hair and kiss him breathless. But - (another kiss to his upper lip) - he had absolutely no desire to have to explain to Leonard that oh, what, aliens made him grind against the captain in the hallway; nor yet to have to explain himself to Dr McCoy, should he turn up unexpectedly.

And the thought of a hypo to the neck somehow cut through even this haze of desire.

"Mmmm." He wrenched himself upright and detached himself entirely from Kirk, although the step backward resonated like a physical pain.

"We have to stop," he managed, breathless and sweat-slicked and unnaturally, fiercely aroused. "This is - something's - " wrong/enhanced/insane " - not right here." He struggled for breath, pressing his hands flat to the cool surface of the wall. "And I don't think your doctor wants to walk in here and see this."

God, he was proud of himself for this clarity. Fuck.

"Let's - just get home, okay?"

[kirktastic.livejournal.com]

No. Fuck, no. Jim's mind flared almost angrily with the rejection, but logic, clean and cool against the heat in his veins, forced some form of mental clarity onto him. He was breathing hard, lips and face flushed, eyes bright with lust, as he stared at Bill from the (suddenly too far) distance of three feet across the hallway.

It was a physical force of will power not to grab Bill and have him there. Bill was right. Bones.. he had promised himself for Bones no others.. not that he hadn't already sort of broken that (Spock's mouth against his, hot Vulcan hands around his cock)-- Fuck!

"Gotta... Bill...." He couldn't even get anything else out until he swallowed. "Something isn't. Go. Get outta here." Jim forced himself off the wall, stumbling in his first step (so hard it hurt) before he half-ran down the hall in a mirror image of what Bill had been doing only moments before.

[canadianbill.livejournal.com]

And something wasn't, that was for sure. For a moment, Bill could only watch as Kirk disappeared down the hallway.

And then, with a great effort of will, he pushed himself up, hot and aroused and still a little breathless, and headed for home (http://canadianbill.livejournal.com/25125.html).