Inell's Fanfiction Archive

Jim wakes up to the smell of frying bacon. Real bacon, not that synthesized kind that he’s been eating for the last fifteen years. His stomach starts to growl before he’s even fully conscious. The bed beside him is empty, and a quick touch with his palm indicates that it has been long enough for the sheets to lose a majority of their warmth. A quick, somewhat sleepy, analysis of the situation is that Bones is already awake and cooking breakfast. Jim smiles lazily at the mental image that comes to mind, of Bones naked and frying bacon, but he knows that Bones isn’t likely to cook naked due to any number of muttered unhygienic reasons, so he adds a manly apron to the image, which somehow is still sexy.

“We aren’t having sex,” Bones grumbles, interrupting the fantasy in Jim’s head. “Yet.”

“I hate how you read my mind like that. Also, yet? You big tease,” Jim accuses, opening his eyes as he shifts in their bed. Bones is wearing his boxers and a black tank, which is even sexier than the apron, so Jim forgives him for the interruption. “I forgive you.”

“All it takes is one look at the dopey expression you always have on your face whenever you’re thinking about sex to know what you’re thinking, Jim. Now, what’s this about forgiving me? For what?” Bones arches a brow and gives Jim one of those ‘did you fall and hit your head during your sleep’ looks that don’t even faze him anymore after eighteen years of friendship.

“I was in the middle of a fantasy involving you wearing only an apron and us testing the stability of the kitchen table,” he explains. “You disturbed me before I got to the good parts, but I forgive you.”

“Asshole.” Bones ducks his head but grins, which makes Jim grin. They might be in their forties now, him just barely, but that doesn’t mean they have to be all serious and mature. Jim likes feeling like a smitten teenager even after thirteen years of marriage.

“Sometimes,” Jim agrees, moving to a sitting up position against the pillows. In this position, he can see the contents of the tray that Bones is holding. “Waffles!”

“I think you’re happier to see the waffles than you are to see me,” Bones teases as he walks to the bed and sits down. He balances the tray near Jim’s knees and settles beside him. “Waffles, bacon, eggs. Also, fresh strawberries.”

“Where have you been hiding the strawberries?” Jim reaches for one and takes a bite of it before Bones can even answer his question. He’s missed fresh fruit during their three tours in space. While he’s had an opportunity to have it during shore leave occasionally, those few times don’t really compare to the number of days spent on the ship.

“They were in that container I told you had mushrooms.” Bones smirks as he reaches for a strip of bacon. He’s obviously pleased to have successfully hidden the strawberries from him, which means this breakfast is planned.

“I hate mushrooms,” Jim mutters, wrinkling his nose before he takes another bite of the strawberry. “Why did you hide them?”

“So you wouldn’t eat them all last night.” Bones looks at the tray, and Jim knows that this is more than just breakfast. Since their last tour ended, they’ve had breakfast of some sort nearly every day, mostly to enjoy the fact that they can cook real food that isn’t synthesized or prepared by the ship’s chef. This is the first time in three weeks, though, that Bones has gotten up early to cook alone and bring Jim breakfast in bed. Plus, waffles are his favorite, and there’s fresh fruit. He doesn’t have to be a genius to figure out that something’s going on in Bones’ head.

“I love your waffles.” Jim reaches for his plate but keeps his gaze on Bones. Pushing isn’t going to do anything but piss him off and possibly lead to an argument. While they do still fight and bitch at each other and no amount of time together will ever change that, Jim likes to avoid it whenever he can.

Bones smiles and starts cutting his own waffles. “I know.” He adds syrup before he starts to eat. “It’s really nice to have a chance to cook again. Almost forgot how.”

“Nothing made on the ship ever quite tastes this good.” Jim licks syrup from his fork before taking another bite. Unlike the end of their previous two tours on the Enterprise, they haven’t yet accepted a new commission, so there’s more time to just enjoy this kind of thing without their brief free time between tours being filled with meetings and conferences like the last times.

“Agreed.” Bones glances at Jim before he looks towards the window. “Almost forgot what sunny mornings looked like. So used to the darkness of space and not having a window, not wanting one.”

And with those words, Jim has a pretty good idea what this breakfast is about. He’s been expecting it for a while, and he’s glad it’s going to finally get out there before he’s forced to bring it up. “The windows here aren’t really big enough,” he says casually. They’re currently living in a Starfleet-provided apartment, which is pretty small with limited windows and floor space. It’s good enough for a short stay on Earth, but it isn’t much better than their quarters on the Enterprise.

“Yeah.” Bones looks at him again but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he eats more of his waffles while looking too serious and thoughtful for this early in the morning.

The fact that Bones still isn’t bring up the subject that Jim knows he must be thinking about is frustrating. Normally, Bones has no qualms about speaking his mind and sharing his opinions. Jim watches him while they eat in surprisingly comfortable silence. Even after all these years, he loves to look at Bones. The man just gets better with age, which really isn’t very fair considering Jim has to worry about his weight and too many wrinkles as he gets older. He’s only forty, but his body seems to think that’s a good age for his fondness of sweets to start catching up with his waistline.

“What are you thinking about?” Bones asks, disrupting the quiet as he looks at Jim curiously.

“I’m getting fat.” Jim smacks Bones’ shoulder with his fist when he starts to laugh. “It’s not funny.”

“I can’t believe you’re still on that,” Bones says, looking even younger as he laughs. “Turning forty isn’t a big deal, Jim. You didn’t wake up and suddenly gain twenty pounds or a dozen new wrinkles, contrary to what you seem to believe.”

“Damn it. It looks like twenty pounds?” Jim looks down at his bare belly and pokes it with the handle of his fork. It is no longer lean and perfectly muscled like it was twenty years ago, but he guesses the slight pooch isn’t as bad as it could be. “Stop laughing at me, Bones. Not all of us can be muscular and firm without even doing a damn daily workout like you.”

“I’ll go gray before you do,” Bones placates him, still grinning when Jim pouts at him.

“Yeah, and it’ll look good on you. All distinguished and dignified.” Jim smiles as he reaches over with his free hand to touch Bones’ thick hair. “Everyone will want to stroke their fingers through it, but they won’t be able to because you’re mine.”

“Your utter glee at being a possessive bastard is downright scary sometimes,” Bones points out dryly. The quirk of his lips is proof enough that he likes when Jim gets this way, though.

“It’s your fault,” Jim says simply. “If you weren’t so handsome, intelligent, and great in bed, I wouldn’t feel a need to gloat about you being my husband. Besides, you can’t talk about being possessive, Mr. Bite and Mark.”

“Ah. Of course. It’s never your fault.” Bones laughs and shakes his head before his lips curve into a wicked smile. “I don’t hear you complaining about the biting, Jim.”

Jim pops a strawberry into his mouth and chews thoughtfully. They’re nearly finished with their waffles, and sex is now becoming the topic of discussion, which isn’t unusual when they have the opportunity and energy for it. However, it doesn’t really help settle what he thinks Bones wants to discuss. Finally, he decides to just bring it up himself. “I want bigger windows.”

“Hmm?” Bones looks at him curiously, obviously trying to figure out what windows have to do with sex.

“Bigger windows.” Jim licks his lips to make sure that he got all the syrup off before he puts his plate back on the tray. He looks at Bones seriously. “I’ve been thinking a lot over the last few months, Bones. We’ve had fifteen great years, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. But things change, you know? People change.”

“Damn it, Jim. I’m not giving you a divorce,” Bones says harshly, glaring as he slams his plate on the tray and wraps his arms around his chest defensively.

“What?” Jim blinks and wonders where the hell Bones got divorce from. “I don’t want a divorce, asshole. I’m trying to tell you that I think it’s time for me to finally accept the promotion to admiral and let someone else have their chance to fall in love with my girl.”

“What what? You’re talking about changing and having great years,” Bones growls, glaring even more before he suddenly stares. “Jim, you love being captain. You couldn’t ever be happy planetside.”

“I do love being captain,” Jim agrees. “I’ve been a damn great captain, and my crew is amazing. I’ve had a chance to work with remarkably talented people, many of whom have gone on to do great things.” He’s extremely proud of his crew, past and current, and he follows the career paths that those who have become more friend than crew have taken. “I’ve had fifteen years with the Enterprise, Bones. That’s longer than I ever thought I’d get.”

“You could probably have fifteen more, if you wanted,” Bones points out. “Even with the rules you break, you’re a hero and you’ve done too many laudable things for the Federation to really take it away from you.” He shifts on the bed and gulps. “Old Spock told me years ago about the other you, about how important being in space was to you, and I knew that before we ever became more than friends, Jim. I’d never ask you to give that up.”

“Old Spock has a damn big mouth,” Jim mutters. “I’m not that man. We might share some basic characteristics, but his life was the Enterprise. It’s all he had, so it’s all he ever wanted. That isn’t me, though. I’ve had fame and glory and more adventures than I can even remember. But I also have you. You aren’t asking me to give anything up, Bones. I’m offering because I love you, and I don’t care if we’re in space or on some space station in the middle of nowhere or in a new house right here in San Francisco because I’m always home when I’m with you.”

Bones looks at him, an intense look that’s almost like he’s trying to read his mind. Jim drops any posturing that he does by habit and just stares back at Bones, letting him see the sincerity and honesty that he hopes comes through. Old Spock also talked to him, and he doesn’t want to die alone, doesn’t want to die before his life is barely half over, doesn’t want to trade stability and love for adventures. Bones groans and makes a face. “You’re a captain, not some romantic poet.”

Jim slowly smiles. “You’re wrong. I’m a husband and a soon to be admiral, not a captain,” he correctly softly. “And don’t knock my poetic soul. I’ve been coming up with that speech for months now.”

“Months?” Bones studies his face. “I can handle another five years, Jim. I don’t much like space, but I’m happy up there, with you. What if it’s too boring, living normally again after so many years? I don’t have as many near death experiences as you, but it’s not like I’ve spent fifteen years trapped in sickbay.”

“I’ve been thinking about it since my birthday,” Jim admits. “I’m forty now, and I’ve been a captain for the last fifteen years. It probably sounds stupid, but I see Spock and Nyota and feel envious of them, of their lives and family. I want to be able to give you that, Bones.”

“You already give me that, Jim,” Bones says. “You don’t have to give up--“

“I’m not giving up anything.” Jim reaches over and puts two fingers across Bones’ lips. “I want to have that for myself, too. I want to buy a house and do something I love that might not require you to deal with the stress of nearly losing me every time a mission goes wrong or for me to be unable to do anything when you jump headfirst into curing every plague and illness we come across. I want big windows, Bones, with sunlight beaming through them. I want waffles in the mornings and daily jogs when there’s still dew in the air. I know that you want it, too. All of this, the waffles and the strawberries and the fact that neither of us has signed up for another tour yet despite not even talking about it, it’s because you’re ready for more than just space, isn’t it? Am I wrong?”

Bones sighs and shakes his head. “You aren’t wrong,” he says. “I’ve planned to bring it up for weeks, but I always just--” He shrugs. “I couldn’t bring myself to make you choose between the Enterprise and me, especially when I don’t hate it or anything.”

“There isn’t a choice,” Jim says honestly. He loves the Enterprise, but Bones is his Bones, and that’s that. He shifts on the bed and strokes his fingers along the curve of Bones’ jaw. “I think that I want to accept Pike’s offer to teach at the academy. There’s something so satisfying about watching people I help train move on to bigger things, and I imagine that it would only be better if I actually had a hand in teaching them before they even get into space.”

“What if teaching isn’t exciting enough for you?” Bones asks bluntly. “What if you hate the routine and the paperwork and can’t stand it after six months or a year?”

Jim has to laugh. “I haven’t been the reckless kid jumping from danger to danger for about a decade, as you well know. Hell, the majority of being captain is routine and paperwork. If either of us feels a need for a bit of space exploits, I’m sure Sulu would let us beam aboard his ship for a few days or we can go to New Vulcan to visit our godchildren, which is always an adventure.”

“I’ve had another offer to take over part of the teaching program for Starfleet Medical.” Bones reaches over and touches his neck, rubbing his thumb over the mark he made last night. “They make the offer every six months, it seems.”

“Accept it,” Jim says. “With you in charge, every ship will get the best damn medical staff ever seen. With me teaching tactical and possibly a xenolinguistics class, they’ll have kick ass command staff who think outside the box and know what they’re doing. Maybe we can eventually convince Spock and Nyota into moving back to Earth, and we can let their kids play with our kids.”

“I think Nyota would probably agree, but I doubt Spock--wait, our kids?” Bones frowns in that adorable ‘I don’t understand what the hell you’re talking about, Jim’ way.

“At least two, but three might be good.” Jim speaks matter-of-factly. When he sees Bones about to start panicking, he says, “We’ve talked about kids before, Bones. You’ve told me that you wanted kids with the Ex but never had a chance, and I’d like to be a father. If we’re going to settle down, I think it’s a good time to look into adoption. Not immediately, but maybe in the next year or so.”

“Damn it, Jim. Stop dropping these bombshells on me. My mind is still catching up with all this,” Bones grumbles. “I just planned to suggest that we talk about the future, figuring the waffles and strawberries might make you more willing, and here you are with your future plans and shit.”

“I like to be prepared,” Jim says, smiling as he leans across the small space between them to kiss Bones. “Next time, don’t wait months to talk to me about something this important to you, all right? Feel free to make waffles, but no waiting.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t sound like I was the only one waiting to talk about it.” Bones licks at Jim’s bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. “You taste like syrup and strawberries.”

“You just taste like syrup. We need to rectify that mistake right away,” Jim murmurs, reaching for one of the strawberries. He presses the tip against Bones’ mouth, staring at his full lips as they part and watching as he bites into the strawberry. “I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure that this is what you wanted. I could do another five years, Bones, but, honestly, I think I’m ready to move forward and find out what happens after Captain.”

“So am I.” Bones takes the last bite of strawberry into his mouth, curling his tongue around Jim’s fingers to lick up the juice. After he swallows, he kisses Jim, slow and teasing, until Jim makes a needy whine and presses closer. The kiss finally deepens, and Jim grips Bones’ hair as he takes control of the kiss. Bones fights him for control, pressing him back against the mattress as their tongues curl and twist.

“Tray,” Jim manages to gasp as he shifts so that he’s not nearly falling off the bed. Bones groans and lets go long enough to move the tray onto the floor. “Changed my mind. I want waffles and sex every morning. They just go together so well that I can’t stand the idea of separating them.” He smiles mischievously when Bones arches a brow then pounces.

“I’m not making you waffles every damn morning, wiseass,” Bones says as he straddles Jim. “Sex, however, is negotiable.”

“Sex is always negotiable, dear husband,” Jim declares in a very bad imitation of Bones’ heaviest drawl. It earns him a growl and fingers digging into his ribs as Bones tickles him. “Stop. No tickling. You’ll make me have to go piss.”

“No pathetic attempts at drawling,” Bones reminds him. “It’s on your list of ‘things we don’t do unless we want to drive each other crazy and not in a good way’, so stop whining. Also, I still think the titles for your lists are ridiculously long.”

“Maybe I want to drive you crazy.” Jim playfully leers before yelping when Bones’ fingers tickle him harder. “Damn it, Bones. I’m adding tickling to that list.”

Bones laughs and leans down to kiss him. “I refuse to allow that one on the list. It’s the only way I can get you to behave,” he says against Jim’s lips.

“I never behave,” Jim reminds him, quickly moving his head forward to steal a kiss. Bones shifts on top of him, settling between his spread legs, which creates a delicious friction as they kiss and lazily rock against each other. Jim runs the heel of his foot over Bones’ calf and changes his angle just enough to press their erections together.

“Jim, stop with your foot,” Bones mutters, gripping Jim’s hip and arching into him with a little more force. “It’s distracting.”

“It doesn’t feel like you’re distracted to me, Bones.” Jim wiggles a little but stops moving his foot. He tugs the strap of Bones’ tank top out of the way so he can lick his shoulder, kissing a cluster of freckles that appeared the other day after they spent the entire day lying around the beach south of town. “When we find a house, I want one with a yard so I can convince you to sunbathe naked.”

“I’m not going to lie around in the sun naked.” Bones slides his hand around Jim to grip his ass, rubbing a little harder when he thrusts forward.

“You should. I love these freckles,” Jim announces before he kisses his shoulder again.

“I’m not gonna do it,” Bones mumbles in that ‘damn it, you know I’ll give in if you pester me enough’ tone that Jim adores hearing.

“Big windows and a back yard are all I ask for.” Jim pushes his hips up, gasping against warm skin when the friction makes his toes curl. “God, that’s good. Right there.”

“For now. Let’s talk again by the end of day when you’ve made another--fuck, Jim, do that again--list.” Bones’ voice catches as Jim strokes his ass, using his fingers to tease as they keep rocking together.

“Already have a list: the ‘basic requirements and things that’d be awesome if possible for a new house’,” Jim admits, lightly pressing his finger inside Bones. He stops talking as they move faster, grinding harder into each other, panting as Bones squeezes his ass and probably leave bruises from how firm he’s holding it. Bones clenches around his finger, making the gaspy moans that he always makes before he comes. Jim moves his other hand between them, stroking their dicks through their underwear as well as he can. Bones kisses him as his hips jerk forward, and he presses his dick against Jim’s.

“You feel so good,” Bones murmurs in between kisses. Jim groans as the friction becomes too much. His body tenses before he comes, and he hears Bones grunt while he’s still coming. Bones shudders, continuing to rock his hips into Jim as they orgasm.

Jim finally slaps his palm against Bones’ ass. “Enough. It’s getting too sensitive,” he says, sliding his hand out of Bones’ boxers and wiping his finger on the sheet.

“I can’t believe you’ve made me ruin another pair of underwear. I just put these on.” Bones smiles even as he bitches, kissing Jim again before he rolls over to lie beside him.

“That’s your fault for getting dressed. Next time, just wear an apron,” Jim suggests, pulling his own wet underwear off of his dick where it’s starting to get uncomfortable already.

“Do you have any idea how disgusting it is to cook while naked?” Bones makes a face, probably mentally listing every bacteria or whatever unhealthy excuse he has for not wanting to cook in the nude. Since Jim is the Best Husband Ever, a title he shares with Bones except when Bones pisses him off, he kisses Bones so he stops thinking about that after great sex.

When they break apart, Bones doesn’t seem to remember what he was griping about, so Jim’s plan is successful, of course. He’s going to be a kick ass strategy and tactics professor. He grins as he curls around Bones, not caring that they’re sticky and damp. “We can talk to Starfleet tomorrow and tell them our plans.”

“Not today?” Bones studies his face and strokes his back.

“Nope. Today, I’m only letting you out of bed to use the bathroom and to get food,” Jim informs him. “We’re going to have celebration sex. Then we’ll have ‘planning a future’ sex. After that, we’ll move on to ‘you can call me Professor Kirk’ sex. And I think we should have--“

“Jim. I’m forty-five, not fifteen. You’ll be lucky if I can keep up with that list, so let’s just stop there,” Bones says with a laugh.

“I think you could definitely keep up, but I’ll stop, for now.” Jim smiles and kisses him slowly. He pulls away and starts drawing random designs on Bones’ chest with his finger. “We’ll have to go house hunting soon. They probably won’t let us stay here indefinitely.”

“We will. This place is too small to stay for that long.” Bones brushes his lips against his forehead. “We’ll find a nice place with a backyard and big windows.”

“Maybe a short distance from the city, and I’d like lots of wood with a large open kitchen and a couple of acres, so we can have horses for you to fuss over.” Jim smiles innocently when Bones rolls his eyes, leaning up to kiss him again before he can start grumbling. Really, he doesn’t care what kind of house they buy. As long as he’s got Bones, he’s already home.

End