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tamingthemuseTitle: A Bit of Sunshine Part 1
Fandom: Star Trek XI in AU
Prompt: Tom, Dick and Insert Name
Warnings: Slash and further chapters may include sexual material.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Leonard McCoy is unhappily married - he stayed with his wife for the sake of his daughter. He's mostly miserable, but stuck. There is just one bright spot to his day - taking lunch in the park near his hospital and watching "Jim." -- prompt from the new Star Trek Kink Meme here and will be finished there if anyone is interested.
Today was one of those days. The days where he hated the fact he had become a doctor, cursed the malfunctioning hyprospay that made him fertile and cursed the sun for look so damn cheerful. He was on the tenth hour of a twelve hour shift and he was just getting his lunch. He’d had one break and been up since midnight. There had been a shuttle craft crash out north and all the patients had been brought to his hospital. Dr. McCoy was known for his trauma skills and got all the ‘best’ work.
McCoy sat down on his unusual bench and pulled out the sandwich he had made in a rush before leaving. God forbid Jocelyn make him a sandwich instead of bitching about his alarm going off at odd hours of the night. He made the goddamn money that kept them in the pretty house upstate didn’t he?
He ran a hand over his face and tried not to think about it. That’s all he did really. Pretend his wife wasn’t there, but couldn’t get rid of her. At work he didn’t have to think about her lazy ass and at home he could focus on Joanna, his beautiful daughter.
Fatherhood had been the best thing to ever happen to him. He would sacrifice anything to do with his little girl, even if it meant marrying her hellish mother and putting up with it for seven years. When he got up and saw his daughter smiling up at him it made it all worth it. They were close too, closer then he imagined they would ever be when she still couldn’t drive a hovercar.
Laughter bubbled up from the distance and he glanced up and to the right. Jim was with a costumer. Some older woman with what was obviously her granddaughter. He added a second line to whatever joke he had told and they started giggling all over again. McCoy smiled slightly, the first time all day or night, since he’d put Joanna to bed.
Jim was an artist that worked the sidewalk. He did sketches and caricatures for the people in the park and sold one of a kinds at a reasonable price. McCoy had never spoken to the man, not once. He only knew his name because he’d heard it used as customers would walk away and shout goodbye. McCoy could have gone over, Jim was always looking for business or browsers, but McCoy never got closer then this bench.
Jim had this spirit that shined through his blue eyes. He had the kind of smile that never faded and spread to those around him. Even then he was a peddler by profession he doubted Jim had ever swindled anyone. McCoy didn’t want to go there and spread his dark cloud. It had nothing at all to do the fact he found Kirk startlingly attractive.
Kirk was young, a boy compared to McCoy, maybe in his early to mid twenties. He was strikingly handsome. Firm jaw line, beautiful blue eyes, dirty blond hair and on some days he had this little bit of stubble that did things to McCoy’s insides that he didn’t want to admit. McCoy was married even if he hadn’t enjoyed the sight of his ring for years. Not to mention he’d never been with a man or considered one an option.
Jim picked a daisy from the near by grass and put it into the little girl’s hair. She blushed and giggled but stayed still as he continued to draw her. Jim was good with kids, even the bratty ones responded to him well. McCoy really wanted to bring Joanna here to get a portrait done, but he didn’t have the time nor the guts.
McCoy focused on finishing his sandwich while watching the artist at work. Jim finished with the sketching and they did the money for art exchange. The girl and her grandmother walked away with big smiles on their faces and Jim put up a sign that said he had gone to lunch. He talked to another bender before walking away.
This was not the turn of events McCoy had been looking forward too. With Jim gone the next forty minutes of his lunch would be boring and bleak. He might a well go back and get off early.
Jim wasn’t away further away though, he was getting closer. In fact if McCoy didn’t know better he’d think the man was coming over to his bench. He was getting the angles wrong though. There were empty benches all over the place. He did his best to keep his eyes downcast and not stare. This was the closest viewing he’d had of the other man and damn.
His heart stopped because it’s gone past that point where Jim could be going anywhere else besides towards him. He glanced up and they made eye contact. He didn’t know what to think. Did Jim know? Did he really come off as a stalker? Was Jim going to yell at her, call him a pervert? Shit would he make a scene? Did anyone here know him?
Jim didn’t make a scene, just smiled that smile at him.
“Can I sit here?” he asked already in the process of sitting down.
“Sure,” McCoy said shifting his white coat out of Jim’s way and onto his own lap.
“You come here a lot huh?” Kirk asked his arms spread out of the back of the bench, his hand touching McCoy’s shoulder just barely.
“It’s close to work,” McCoy lied. That wasn’t why he was here, but he was trying not to give off the stalker vibe.
“Where do you work?” Jim asked casually.
McCoy held up his white coat and raised a brow, “No guesses?”
“Then it’s true. They do give every Tom, Dick and,” Jim said then paused his eyes searching out and finding McCoy’s name tag, “McCoy a medical degree.”
“That’s not true. No one gave me anything. I earned this damn coat,” McCoy said not sure rather he should be insulted or not. He realized now that he also hadn’t gone over to see Jim in case the guy turned out to be a total ass.
“I bet it’s a lot of work,” Jim corrected himself, “But must be worth it. I hear they make a killing.”
“Nah, my wallet’s dry as bones,” McCoy said sadly realizing it was true. Jocelyn kept and spent a large sum of their cash.
“Dry as bones? Don’t you mean bone dry?” Jim said and McCoy could have sworn he was teasing him.
“Nope, I like dry as bones,” McCoy told him.
“Alright then, Bones,” Jim said definitely teasing now, “Do you like you’re job?”
“Sure, what’s not to like? Saving people, watching them die, jackass over competitive co-workers . It’s all great,” McCoy said knowing he was being too sarcastic, too honest, too dry. He didn’t want to push Jim away. In fact having him come sit with him was the best thing to ever happen to him in a very long time.
“Stressful. I get it,” Kirk said not at all off put by the dry sarcasm.
“Do you like your job?”
“Me?” Jim asked with a laugh, “Sure. I mean I thought it’d be doing more by now, but I got my spot, I make my cash. Litle girls like that one that came by make my day. All smiles and happy. I love that. I get a lot of jerks though. Think their better then me. But I put them in their place if you know what I mean.”
“I can tell by the crooked nose how you do that,” McCoy told him his face breaking out into a smile on it‘t own.
“You a plastic surgeon?”
“No, thankfully. With genetic techniques preformed before birth they’re almost going out of business. I do work with some though. I specialized in trauma medicine and emergency surgeries, so I get a lot of burn victims and accident survivors.”
“Why did you decide to specialize in that?”
“Wasn’t exactly a course or anything. I was a general on call intern then a couple of my teachers noticed I had a flare for dealing with stressful situations. Now, if someone comes in with a crushed skull I’m the first one called.”
“Sort of a gift and curse thing. I get that,” Jim said then offered his hand, “I’m James T. Kirk by the way, but everyone body calls me Jim.”
<i>I know</i> McCoy adds to himself, but won’t dare speak it. How creepy would it sound?
“I’m Doctor McCoy. I don’t have a nickname or anything.”
“How about,” Jim said thinking then smirked, “Bones?”
“Bones,” McCoy said and shrugged, “That works just fine.” McCoy knew he’d let him call him anything. Piece of shit? Alright Jim, works just fine.
“So, are you off or what?” Jim asked with an almost coy smile.
“What?” McCoy asked his eyes going wide. Was he getting hit on?
“You heard me,” Jim said confidently.
“Lunch, but I get off at noon. I have to be home at six take care of my daughter since my wife has a hair appointment,” McCoy said putting extra emphasis on the word daughter and wife. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested. God damn if he was younger, single and childless he might actually consider it.
“Could you met me here at noon?” Jim asked quickly, “I’ll have you home by six I promise.”
<i>I’ll have you home?</i> McCoy was sure he’d used that line on a girl in high school once.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” he said hesitantly.
“Listen, I just want to show you something,” Jim said putting his arm up and leaning his head on his hand, “But you don’t have too.”
“What is it?”
“My gallery,” Jim said quickly, “You look like a man of taste and I figured you’d know if you liked something you saw.”
“I don’t know art.”
“An amateur, the best kind of critic,” Jim countered. McCoy sighed knowing he was trapped in this net and wasn’t getting out.
“Alright, but I can’t stay long,” McCoy told him and then got up, “In fact I should get back to work.”
“That’s okay. I’ll see you at noon,” Kirk said going back to his little stand as McCoy watched, trying to keep his eyes off the other man’s ass.
He made his way back to work once Jim was sitting back down and had removed his sign. McCoy clocked back in early and retired to do paper work. Since he’d taken a shorter lunch he could leave early. Normally, he’d be dead tired, but today he was excited. His heart was racing at the thought of going somewhere with his little ray of sunshine and seeing all of his beautiful works of art.
Leaving time couldn’t come soon enough. Since there hadn’t been another huge catastrophe McCoy was able to simply leave. He bid a short ado to his head nurse Chapel before making his way down to the park.
When he got to the park Kirk was sketching something, but had no one in front of him. McCoy got closer, but didn’t know what to say. ‘Hi’ or ‘hey’ seemed too formal and he couldn’t think of anything witty. Luckily Kirk looked up at him.
“Hey,” Kirk said with a grin and instantly slipped the sketching into a sleeve. He got up and grabbed a bag full of rolled up paintings on old style canvas, “You okay with walking? I only live about a mile away.”
“That’s fine,” McCoy said with a shrug. Honesty, he’d walk a hundred miles for this man, but he’d never be able to say that. He had a wife and more importantly a daughter. He ran his thumb over the band on his ring finger. It was no longer a reminder of his vows, but of his daughter. He didn’t need to be in love with anyone else but her and he was fine that way. He was married to his daughter in that not sinister but intensely devoted way.
They walked in silence, but McCoy never felt uncomfortable. He felt at peace with the other man even if this was only the first time they had ever spoken.
Jim’s place was a floor side studio with glass windows and paintings showing to the outside. It was actually an incredibly nice place, much nicer then he’d thought a street artist would have.
“I’m not as poor as you’d think. I just don’t get inspired trapped indoors. I want to be out talking with people, having fun. I’m also not as rich. I sleep in a back room that’s normally used as an office,” Kirk said as he was unlocking the door already able to tell what McCoy was thinking. McCoy didn’t say anything back feeling nothing was needed.
McCoy went inside when the door was opened and started glancing around at the paintings. They were utterly beautiful, every last one. Many of them were just different angles of the park, but the colors and the feel of the art was outstanding.
“I lied,” Kirk said coming up beside him, “About wanting you as a critic. There really is only one painting you have to see and once you do you’ll understand.”
“Alright,” McCoy said but got nervous as Jim lead him into the back room. What if Jim was actually a killer and planned to use this as a ploy? What if he hit on him once they were inside of his room and tried to force it?
Rape? Really, McCoy, he thought to himself, fantasy much?
Kirk unlocked the back room door then let them in. There was a single axle with one painting on it, covered with a sheet.
“This painting made me more money then anything else I’ve ever put to paper. The response I got was thrilling and I just had show it to you before it leaves tomorrow and thank you,” Kirk said before pulling the blanket away.
McCoy’s eyes went wide and he stared open mouthed. He’d have never imagined what was on the painting.
It was himself. It was a charcoal picture of him sitting on the bench, half slumped over eating his sandwich. It must have been fall because he had his trench coat on and a little extra facial hair. It was drawn from a distance, likely because that’s how Jim saw him. What really caught his eye was the face. It was an exact replica of what he saw in the mirror only there was so much angst on his face. He felt bad even for himself as he watched his still motion counter part sit there staring at his sandwich.
Besides being beautiful this meant that Jim had noticed him. He wasn’t the only one staring across the field. Had Jim noticed how much he looked? Did he find it odd? There were so many things he wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to actually say any of them, it was too embarrassing.
Jim was staring at him, his eyes were shinning as they studied his reaction. McCoy felt a rush of hot heat go through him. He hadn’t had sex in five years and it’d been almost that long since he’d felt the need.
“You always look like the most miserable man in the universe,” Jim told him, “And I just had to draw this. Some art collector came into my studio saw it and started offering money in the four digits range. You’re my muse Bones and I don’t know how to thank you.”
<i>Thank me by pinning me down to your mattress over there</I> McCoy thought, but kept it trapped inside his mind as he looked for a more G-rated response.
Fandom: Star Trek XI in AU
Prompt: Tom, Dick and Insert Name
Warnings: Slash and further chapters may include sexual material.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Leonard McCoy is unhappily married - he stayed with his wife for the sake of his daughter. He's mostly miserable, but stuck. There is just one bright spot to his day - taking lunch in the park near his hospital and watching "Jim." -- prompt from the new Star Trek Kink Meme here and will be finished there if anyone is interested.
Today was one of those days. The days where he hated the fact he had become a doctor, cursed the malfunctioning hyprospay that made him fertile and cursed the sun for look so damn cheerful. He was on the tenth hour of a twelve hour shift and he was just getting his lunch. He’d had one break and been up since midnight. There had been a shuttle craft crash out north and all the patients had been brought to his hospital. Dr. McCoy was known for his trauma skills and got all the ‘best’ work.
McCoy sat down on his unusual bench and pulled out the sandwich he had made in a rush before leaving. God forbid Jocelyn make him a sandwich instead of bitching about his alarm going off at odd hours of the night. He made the goddamn money that kept them in the pretty house upstate didn’t he?
He ran a hand over his face and tried not to think about it. That’s all he did really. Pretend his wife wasn’t there, but couldn’t get rid of her. At work he didn’t have to think about her lazy ass and at home he could focus on Joanna, his beautiful daughter.
Fatherhood had been the best thing to ever happen to him. He would sacrifice anything to do with his little girl, even if it meant marrying her hellish mother and putting up with it for seven years. When he got up and saw his daughter smiling up at him it made it all worth it. They were close too, closer then he imagined they would ever be when she still couldn’t drive a hovercar.
Laughter bubbled up from the distance and he glanced up and to the right. Jim was with a costumer. Some older woman with what was obviously her granddaughter. He added a second line to whatever joke he had told and they started giggling all over again. McCoy smiled slightly, the first time all day or night, since he’d put Joanna to bed.
Jim was an artist that worked the sidewalk. He did sketches and caricatures for the people in the park and sold one of a kinds at a reasonable price. McCoy had never spoken to the man, not once. He only knew his name because he’d heard it used as customers would walk away and shout goodbye. McCoy could have gone over, Jim was always looking for business or browsers, but McCoy never got closer then this bench.
Jim had this spirit that shined through his blue eyes. He had the kind of smile that never faded and spread to those around him. Even then he was a peddler by profession he doubted Jim had ever swindled anyone. McCoy didn’t want to go there and spread his dark cloud. It had nothing at all to do the fact he found Kirk startlingly attractive.
Kirk was young, a boy compared to McCoy, maybe in his early to mid twenties. He was strikingly handsome. Firm jaw line, beautiful blue eyes, dirty blond hair and on some days he had this little bit of stubble that did things to McCoy’s insides that he didn’t want to admit. McCoy was married even if he hadn’t enjoyed the sight of his ring for years. Not to mention he’d never been with a man or considered one an option.
Jim picked a daisy from the near by grass and put it into the little girl’s hair. She blushed and giggled but stayed still as he continued to draw her. Jim was good with kids, even the bratty ones responded to him well. McCoy really wanted to bring Joanna here to get a portrait done, but he didn’t have the time nor the guts.
McCoy focused on finishing his sandwich while watching the artist at work. Jim finished with the sketching and they did the money for art exchange. The girl and her grandmother walked away with big smiles on their faces and Jim put up a sign that said he had gone to lunch. He talked to another bender before walking away.
This was not the turn of events McCoy had been looking forward too. With Jim gone the next forty minutes of his lunch would be boring and bleak. He might a well go back and get off early.
Jim wasn’t away further away though, he was getting closer. In fact if McCoy didn’t know better he’d think the man was coming over to his bench. He was getting the angles wrong though. There were empty benches all over the place. He did his best to keep his eyes downcast and not stare. This was the closest viewing he’d had of the other man and damn.
His heart stopped because it’s gone past that point where Jim could be going anywhere else besides towards him. He glanced up and they made eye contact. He didn’t know what to think. Did Jim know? Did he really come off as a stalker? Was Jim going to yell at her, call him a pervert? Shit would he make a scene? Did anyone here know him?
Jim didn’t make a scene, just smiled that smile at him.
“Can I sit here?” he asked already in the process of sitting down.
“Sure,” McCoy said shifting his white coat out of Jim’s way and onto his own lap.
“You come here a lot huh?” Kirk asked his arms spread out of the back of the bench, his hand touching McCoy’s shoulder just barely.
“It’s close to work,” McCoy lied. That wasn’t why he was here, but he was trying not to give off the stalker vibe.
“Where do you work?” Jim asked casually.
McCoy held up his white coat and raised a brow, “No guesses?”
“Then it’s true. They do give every Tom, Dick and,” Jim said then paused his eyes searching out and finding McCoy’s name tag, “McCoy a medical degree.”
“That’s not true. No one gave me anything. I earned this damn coat,” McCoy said not sure rather he should be insulted or not. He realized now that he also hadn’t gone over to see Jim in case the guy turned out to be a total ass.
“I bet it’s a lot of work,” Jim corrected himself, “But must be worth it. I hear they make a killing.”
“Nah, my wallet’s dry as bones,” McCoy said sadly realizing it was true. Jocelyn kept and spent a large sum of their cash.
“Dry as bones? Don’t you mean bone dry?” Jim said and McCoy could have sworn he was teasing him.
“Nope, I like dry as bones,” McCoy told him.
“Alright then, Bones,” Jim said definitely teasing now, “Do you like you’re job?”
“Sure, what’s not to like? Saving people, watching them die, jackass over competitive co-workers . It’s all great,” McCoy said knowing he was being too sarcastic, too honest, too dry. He didn’t want to push Jim away. In fact having him come sit with him was the best thing to ever happen to him in a very long time.
“Stressful. I get it,” Kirk said not at all off put by the dry sarcasm.
“Do you like your job?”
“Me?” Jim asked with a laugh, “Sure. I mean I thought it’d be doing more by now, but I got my spot, I make my cash. Litle girls like that one that came by make my day. All smiles and happy. I love that. I get a lot of jerks though. Think their better then me. But I put them in their place if you know what I mean.”
“I can tell by the crooked nose how you do that,” McCoy told him his face breaking out into a smile on it‘t own.
“You a plastic surgeon?”
“No, thankfully. With genetic techniques preformed before birth they’re almost going out of business. I do work with some though. I specialized in trauma medicine and emergency surgeries, so I get a lot of burn victims and accident survivors.”
“Why did you decide to specialize in that?”
“Wasn’t exactly a course or anything. I was a general on call intern then a couple of my teachers noticed I had a flare for dealing with stressful situations. Now, if someone comes in with a crushed skull I’m the first one called.”
“Sort of a gift and curse thing. I get that,” Jim said then offered his hand, “I’m James T. Kirk by the way, but everyone body calls me Jim.”
<i>I know</i> McCoy adds to himself, but won’t dare speak it. How creepy would it sound?
“I’m Doctor McCoy. I don’t have a nickname or anything.”
“How about,” Jim said thinking then smirked, “Bones?”
“Bones,” McCoy said and shrugged, “That works just fine.” McCoy knew he’d let him call him anything. Piece of shit? Alright Jim, works just fine.
“So, are you off or what?” Jim asked with an almost coy smile.
“What?” McCoy asked his eyes going wide. Was he getting hit on?
“You heard me,” Jim said confidently.
“Lunch, but I get off at noon. I have to be home at six take care of my daughter since my wife has a hair appointment,” McCoy said putting extra emphasis on the word daughter and wife. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested. God damn if he was younger, single and childless he might actually consider it.
“Could you met me here at noon?” Jim asked quickly, “I’ll have you home by six I promise.”
<i>I’ll have you home?</i> McCoy was sure he’d used that line on a girl in high school once.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” he said hesitantly.
“Listen, I just want to show you something,” Jim said putting his arm up and leaning his head on his hand, “But you don’t have too.”
“What is it?”
“My gallery,” Jim said quickly, “You look like a man of taste and I figured you’d know if you liked something you saw.”
“I don’t know art.”
“An amateur, the best kind of critic,” Jim countered. McCoy sighed knowing he was trapped in this net and wasn’t getting out.
“Alright, but I can’t stay long,” McCoy told him and then got up, “In fact I should get back to work.”
“That’s okay. I’ll see you at noon,” Kirk said going back to his little stand as McCoy watched, trying to keep his eyes off the other man’s ass.
He made his way back to work once Jim was sitting back down and had removed his sign. McCoy clocked back in early and retired to do paper work. Since he’d taken a shorter lunch he could leave early. Normally, he’d be dead tired, but today he was excited. His heart was racing at the thought of going somewhere with his little ray of sunshine and seeing all of his beautiful works of art.
Leaving time couldn’t come soon enough. Since there hadn’t been another huge catastrophe McCoy was able to simply leave. He bid a short ado to his head nurse Chapel before making his way down to the park.
When he got to the park Kirk was sketching something, but had no one in front of him. McCoy got closer, but didn’t know what to say. ‘Hi’ or ‘hey’ seemed too formal and he couldn’t think of anything witty. Luckily Kirk looked up at him.
“Hey,” Kirk said with a grin and instantly slipped the sketching into a sleeve. He got up and grabbed a bag full of rolled up paintings on old style canvas, “You okay with walking? I only live about a mile away.”
“That’s fine,” McCoy said with a shrug. Honesty, he’d walk a hundred miles for this man, but he’d never be able to say that. He had a wife and more importantly a daughter. He ran his thumb over the band on his ring finger. It was no longer a reminder of his vows, but of his daughter. He didn’t need to be in love with anyone else but her and he was fine that way. He was married to his daughter in that not sinister but intensely devoted way.
They walked in silence, but McCoy never felt uncomfortable. He felt at peace with the other man even if this was only the first time they had ever spoken.
Jim’s place was a floor side studio with glass windows and paintings showing to the outside. It was actually an incredibly nice place, much nicer then he’d thought a street artist would have.
“I’m not as poor as you’d think. I just don’t get inspired trapped indoors. I want to be out talking with people, having fun. I’m also not as rich. I sleep in a back room that’s normally used as an office,” Kirk said as he was unlocking the door already able to tell what McCoy was thinking. McCoy didn’t say anything back feeling nothing was needed.
McCoy went inside when the door was opened and started glancing around at the paintings. They were utterly beautiful, every last one. Many of them were just different angles of the park, but the colors and the feel of the art was outstanding.
“I lied,” Kirk said coming up beside him, “About wanting you as a critic. There really is only one painting you have to see and once you do you’ll understand.”
“Alright,” McCoy said but got nervous as Jim lead him into the back room. What if Jim was actually a killer and planned to use this as a ploy? What if he hit on him once they were inside of his room and tried to force it?
Rape? Really, McCoy, he thought to himself, fantasy much?
Kirk unlocked the back room door then let them in. There was a single axle with one painting on it, covered with a sheet.
“This painting made me more money then anything else I’ve ever put to paper. The response I got was thrilling and I just had show it to you before it leaves tomorrow and thank you,” Kirk said before pulling the blanket away.
McCoy’s eyes went wide and he stared open mouthed. He’d have never imagined what was on the painting.
It was himself. It was a charcoal picture of him sitting on the bench, half slumped over eating his sandwich. It must have been fall because he had his trench coat on and a little extra facial hair. It was drawn from a distance, likely because that’s how Jim saw him. What really caught his eye was the face. It was an exact replica of what he saw in the mirror only there was so much angst on his face. He felt bad even for himself as he watched his still motion counter part sit there staring at his sandwich.
Besides being beautiful this meant that Jim had noticed him. He wasn’t the only one staring across the field. Had Jim noticed how much he looked? Did he find it odd? There were so many things he wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to actually say any of them, it was too embarrassing.
Jim was staring at him, his eyes were shinning as they studied his reaction. McCoy felt a rush of hot heat go through him. He hadn’t had sex in five years and it’d been almost that long since he’d felt the need.
“You always look like the most miserable man in the universe,” Jim told him, “And I just had to draw this. Some art collector came into my studio saw it and started offering money in the four digits range. You’re my muse Bones and I don’t know how to thank you.”
<i>Thank me by pinning me down to your mattress over there</I> McCoy thought, but kept it trapped inside his mind as he looked for a more G-rated response.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-08 06:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-09 06:39 am (UTC)It's coming though, slowly but surely.