kirktastic: ((Kirk/Bones) Everything to each other.)


Thanks to some hunting by them both and a few calls around, they discovered Crescent Lake on Risa. It was tucked into the absolute middle of no where, so deep in the woods Jim hid his cycle beneath a tarp and they walked the rest of the way, then suddenly there was nothing but blue and green as far as his eyes could see. It was probably one of the most gorgeous sights he ever saw. Absolutely pristine and perfect.

They made camp along the shore of the lake, got things like wood and stones together, and loved every moment of it.

Their tradition was well set, and each year it just got a little better. Something new that improved, better equipment, better location, more time... everything. Jim was happy as long as it wasn't a raining miserable mess and Bones was there. And maybe a bag of cheese curls.

Speaking of those cheese curls... Jim had one very impressive picture to prove the power of cheese curls as fishing bait.



Yea, that was his sexy man with one giant ass space fish. Now it was hanging up, drying out, and there was a light debate on how hard it would be to hang on the wall in their shared quarters back on board.
kirktastic: ((Sex - Stomach) Squish.)
Jim was a beach bum, or at least, he was while he was on Risa. He spend as much time as he could in the sun on the beach, spread out in the sand and nuzzled into a towel or ignoring wet sand against his back from a swim in the ocean. It was like trying to rapidly get as much as possible, soaking it up into his skin so it would last as long as possible when he went back up into space. Even if he couldn't tan properly like he had mentioned to Jana, at least he could get a golden hue to his skin, bleach golden hair a lighter shade.

That's where he was now, his eyes closed as he snuggled down into the sand, head pillowed by his folded arms. The tide played with his toes, and soon he'd have to move, but not yet, not while he felt this good. Maybe he'd go find Bones and they could make up some dinner, tease each other until they collapsed into bed together.

Sounded like a damn fine day to him.

This was a good time for everyone. His crew got the chance to unwind, to not be their career for just a few weeks and instead be people. Spend some of the money they couldn't for the their five year mission. Hard to believe they were over a year into it, now. A year since he and Bones got together, and despite the bad... wouldn't have taken back that year for anything.

Definitely would prove that to Bones tonight.
kirktastic: ((Glance One Eye) Could be thinking any)
When they woke up in the morning, Jim was alone in bed. Jim only briefly thought of it, of the lovely lady that they had ravaged (and ravaged right back, wondered if he could convince Bones to do this again) and wondering where Bones was. Otherwise, he felt damn good. Hungry, thirsty, but good. He took a slow deep breath on the salty air that came from the open windows and grinned up at the ceiling. Felt good to be alive. At least, for now.

Jim slid out of the bed and stretched out the length of him, nose wrinkling at the feeling of seriously, seriously needing a shower. He scratched at his stomach and grabbed a purple-hued fruit from the basket that was gratefully replenished by their Vulcan hosts every so often. He bit into it - sweet, a hint sour, all around good - as he went into the bathroom.

One fruitless-pit and a shower later, Jim was actually beginning to wonder where Bones was. He wandered over to the console in their room, just a towel draped around his shoulders to catch drips from his hair, and typed into it.

Much to his surprise, there was a notice saying that the trial was postponed due to a epidemic going around. With some further investigation, Jim almost couldn't believe it. It mentioned a spreading-wide epidemic of sorts... all involving sex. Huh... explains something or other. He felt fine for now, though. Maybe it was a 24 hour bug, but the Vulcans had to be freaking out. Jim just laughed. We probably sexed it out of ourselves. There was pride in that.

The weight of the day suddenly lifted with the idea that they weren't going to the trial again today, pushing it into the back of his mind in the only way he could deal without having to be constantly stressed about it. Jim grabbed some loose clothing, debating on the idea of shooting Bones a comm to find out if he wanted to get some real breakfast when the buzzer rang.

Definitely not Bones then. Jim walked over to the door, grabbing one of the multitude of what looked like pop bottles on the table. It was getting warm, but right now it was better than water. He popped the top as he opened the door, taking a sip.

Shit! He nearly spit it out when he saw who their visitor was. "...Sam."

(OOC: You get a warning. If you don't want to read this sort of stuff, you don't have to. Sex-pop, Jim/Bones/Sam. You get the idea.)
kirktastic: ((Kiss - Mouths Close) Need you now.)
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.
kirktastic: (Default)
To: Jim ([livejournal.com profile] original_fine)

Jim, remember that non-office talk we said we needed to have? You busy? Mind if I come see you?

JTK


Kirk sent off the message and slumped back into his bed, closing his eyes. He had some questions for Jim... about his relationship with Spock. and definitely some about being a girl. Even though last night had been long (though coming home... amazing). Bones definitely knew how to make a guy feel even better about coming home.
kirktastic: ((Sleep - Smile) Possible wet dream.)
The dream was only a vague memory as consciousness pulled at his mind, but what it left behind was neither vague nor unfamiliar. Kirk half-smiled in his not quite conscious state, shifting in the warmth of his bed. Under the covers, burrowed down in where it was warm, soft, and comfy after a night of sleeping. He could feel Bones against his back, and from the sound of his breath... mmm...

Slowly he slipped a hand down along his body - if he could, and he usually could, he slept in the nude - until he was scratching lightly at the dusting of golden hair along his lower stomach. Finally his fingers brushed his cock as it throbbed, pulsing slowly with the mostly forgotten dream. He took a deep breath in, letting his fingers curl and just give a lazy squeeze. The breath was released faster then its motion in, a stutter in its smoothness.

His motions were languid, letting him take his sweet time, enjoy the feeling. Morning wank, before the shit of the day settled into his mind... had been a while. Just the old familiar feeling of his hand that knew just how to move, just what he liked... with the warmth of Bones asleep at his back, the feeling of his breath by his neck...

He breathed out a moan, hand opening, fingers spreading, as it slid down the shaft. At the base, he let them flare downwards, caressing curls of hair and the looser skin of his balls. He let his fingers cup there, rolling once, before traveling back up again.

"Mmm..."
kirktastic: (Default)
There's an expression I learned about thanks to the 21st century internet that seems to be a pretty good one. I think I need to use it more often. It goes as follows.

Fuck my life.


Not all of all, but right now, I think "FML" describes some things going on pretty damn well.

Now, a second expression that I learned. This term is one I wished I had known a long time ago because I could think of a million reasons to use it. You put a pertinent term in front of the word "blocked". In my case "cockblocked". It means when you've gotten denied sex through some means or another. I was cockblocked twice in one night.

I think I'm losing my touch. TWICE. Once by Bill and once by Spock. That's just sort of terrifying. I mean, I have been cockblocked before (fuck, I'm not even sure I'm using the term right exactly but who cares? No one else is listening to this) while out at the bars or something but not like this. The ratio was much better! This was 2/2! Not 2/200!

FML.

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James T. Kirk

January 2020

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