therumjournals (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
therumjournals) wrote2009-10-19 08:10 pm
therumjournals) wrote2009-10-19 08:10 pm
Entry tags:
Torn (A Star Trek Reboot Fanfic)
Title: Torn
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
therumjournals
Pairings: Kirk/McCoy, Kirk/Spock
Rating: PG-13
Description: An angsty story told in 10, 100-word drabbles
Warning: Seriously unresolved angst.
Author's Note: I posted this at my other journal and a few ST communities a little while ago, but I'm re-posting it here because I'm working on a sequel and I want to have everything in one place. Also, this is the first fic that I ever wrote and comes from my internal conflict regarding Kirk/McCoy and Kirk/Spock (namely, my raging love for both pairings). Oh, so my point is, comments more than welcome if you're reading this for the first time!
UPDATE: The sequel is now up, Ruins
Post-Coital
Jim lay on his back in the bed, taking deep, calming breaths.
Bones came out of the bathroom and lay next to him, running a hand through Jim's sweat-damp hair.
"Bones, there's something I have to tell you."
The hand in his hair stilled.
"What is it?"
"There's....there's something going on between me and Spock."
To Jim's surprise, Bones exhaled, sounding almost relieved, and resumed his soft stroking of Jim's hair. "Yeah...I kinda figured."
Jim squeezed his eyes shut. "But...I love you."
"I know,” said Bones, placing a soft kiss on his temple. “We're gonna have to figure something out."
Something in Nothing
Actually, there was nothing going on between him and Spock. Nothing tangible, at least. There was only a smoldering, a burning ember that glowed in response to glances, tiny expressionless moments that charged every particle standing between them. There was something. Something even Bones had seen. A feeling of inevitability had stolen over Jim. He could hold himself back, as he had been, but it was like sliding down the ice slope on Delta Vega, and there was nothing that could stop the momentum that was carrying him, that would keep carrying him, until he slammed, full force, into something.
Mess Hall Therapy
"Shouldn't I be on a couch for this?"
"I thought you wanted advice, not therapy."
"Still, I'd feel more comfortable discussing this from a couch."
"Shut up. Now, let me get this straight. You love them both."
"Yes."
"But in different ways."
"I...guess so?"
"You don't want to give either one of them up."
"I can't." His voice broke.
"And you want me to come up with some brilliant, insightful solution that is going to solve all of your problems without anyone getting hurt."
"Yes!"
Uhura leaned over the table and looked him in the eye. "You're James T. Kirk."
Different Ways
It was a safe bet that no one who’d actually met Dr. McCoy would describe his personality as “sunny.” And yet that was how Jim felt when he was around Bones, as if the sun had just risen, as if he was enveloped in the glow of an old-fashioned lamp, like the one in his childhood room. With Spock he imagined he would feel a darkness, but a safe darkness, as though he had pulled his well-worn comforter up over his head. Spock blocked out light, suppressed it, but Jim knew, just knew, that he could find his way in.
Rough
Since he was James T. Kirk, matters of the heart always began with a fight.
He’d fought Bones because he was always so close, but never close enough, because there was drinking, then stumbling, arms around each other, and he had been scared of that closeness, and angry that it only came at moments like this.
And when he’d fought Spock, he was fighting the distance between them, he was fighting no-win scenarios, he was fighting for breath, and suddenly he was fighting a hot desire, and as soon as Spock’s hand was off his neck, he wanted it back.
Turbolift Therapy
"Bridge."
"Just talk to them."
"I can't."
"You'll have to come to some sort of mutually agreed upon arrangement."
"Are you out of your mind?"
**
"Bridge."
"Just make a choice."
"I can't."
"Then you'll have to give them both up."
"Are you out of your mind?"
**
"Bridge."
"Someone is going to get hurt."
"I know."
"They would do anything for you."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
**
"You're being very selfish."
"I know."
"That won't stop either of them from loving you."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"Captain, I don't think this is getting us anywhere."
"Yeah. Bridge."
The First Time
And then there was something. It was the Universe pushing them together. How else could Kirk explain the chance encounter with Spock in Engineering, in a dark corner under a mass of catwalks and wires. How else could he explain their hands brushing as they both reached for something, their shoulders brushing together, and then his hand reaching out to brush Spock’s hair off his forehead. Foreheads touching, then lips, finally, finally meeting softly, eyes closing. And there were no questions and no decisions to be made, because they both knew that this something had been a long time coming.
The Second Time
Jim let the momentum carry him down the ice, straight to the door of Spock’s quarters. The door opened with a swoosh, and then he was in Spock’s arms, or maybe Spock was in his arms. Or they were melting together, their mouths and hands and hips. And he was in Spock’s bed and there were blinding flashes of light, and then he was happy, so happy, he was giddy and laughing and there was no darkness at all. And Spock, well, he wasn’t smiling, but his face was open and light and it was everything that Jim had wanted.
Aftermath
Kirk was covered in sweat, his body shaking. He’d already gotten sick more than once. Bones held him tightly, stroked his hair, and whispered “Tell me.” Kirk closed his eyes, and felt hot tears slide down his cheeks.
The worst thing was, Kirk didn’t even know why he was like this. Was he like this because he was here with Bones, because he loved Bones so much that he couldn’t bear what he had done? Or was he like this because he wasn’t with Spock, because he loved Spock so much that he couldn’t bear to be apart from him?
Ready Room Therapy
“So, Captain, about your issues…”
“Nicely put, Uhura.”
“I suppose you want me to suggest a few more brilliant solutions?”
“Nah. I gave up on that a while ago. Now I just enjoy our little talks.”
“Captain, I’m a bit worried that this…thing…is going to begin affecting the ship or our missions.”
“Really? Have you noticed any changes to the atmosphere on the Bridge?”
“Well…no.”
“That’s right. I’m good at compartmentalizing. We all are.”
“But eventually it will start taking its toll.”
“Maybe.”
“So…has being on the couch helped you work through things?”
“Not at all, Uhura, not at all.”
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot
Author:
therumjournalsPairings: Kirk/McCoy, Kirk/Spock
Rating: PG-13
Description: An angsty story told in 10, 100-word drabbles
Warning: Seriously unresolved angst.
Author's Note: I posted this at my other journal and a few ST communities a little while ago, but I'm re-posting it here because I'm working on a sequel and I want to have everything in one place. Also, this is the first fic that I ever wrote and comes from my internal conflict regarding Kirk/McCoy and Kirk/Spock (namely, my raging love for both pairings). Oh, so my point is, comments more than welcome if you're reading this for the first time!
UPDATE: The sequel is now up, Ruins
Post-Coital
Jim lay on his back in the bed, taking deep, calming breaths.
Bones came out of the bathroom and lay next to him, running a hand through Jim's sweat-damp hair.
"Bones, there's something I have to tell you."
The hand in his hair stilled.
"What is it?"
"There's....there's something going on between me and Spock."
To Jim's surprise, Bones exhaled, sounding almost relieved, and resumed his soft stroking of Jim's hair. "Yeah...I kinda figured."
Jim squeezed his eyes shut. "But...I love you."
"I know,” said Bones, placing a soft kiss on his temple. “We're gonna have to figure something out."
Something in Nothing
Actually, there was nothing going on between him and Spock. Nothing tangible, at least. There was only a smoldering, a burning ember that glowed in response to glances, tiny expressionless moments that charged every particle standing between them. There was something. Something even Bones had seen. A feeling of inevitability had stolen over Jim. He could hold himself back, as he had been, but it was like sliding down the ice slope on Delta Vega, and there was nothing that could stop the momentum that was carrying him, that would keep carrying him, until he slammed, full force, into something.
Mess Hall Therapy
"Shouldn't I be on a couch for this?"
"I thought you wanted advice, not therapy."
"Still, I'd feel more comfortable discussing this from a couch."
"Shut up. Now, let me get this straight. You love them both."
"Yes."
"But in different ways."
"I...guess so?"
"You don't want to give either one of them up."
"I can't." His voice broke.
"And you want me to come up with some brilliant, insightful solution that is going to solve all of your problems without anyone getting hurt."
"Yes!"
Uhura leaned over the table and looked him in the eye. "You're James T. Kirk."
Different Ways
It was a safe bet that no one who’d actually met Dr. McCoy would describe his personality as “sunny.” And yet that was how Jim felt when he was around Bones, as if the sun had just risen, as if he was enveloped in the glow of an old-fashioned lamp, like the one in his childhood room. With Spock he imagined he would feel a darkness, but a safe darkness, as though he had pulled his well-worn comforter up over his head. Spock blocked out light, suppressed it, but Jim knew, just knew, that he could find his way in.
Rough
Since he was James T. Kirk, matters of the heart always began with a fight.
He’d fought Bones because he was always so close, but never close enough, because there was drinking, then stumbling, arms around each other, and he had been scared of that closeness, and angry that it only came at moments like this.
And when he’d fought Spock, he was fighting the distance between them, he was fighting no-win scenarios, he was fighting for breath, and suddenly he was fighting a hot desire, and as soon as Spock’s hand was off his neck, he wanted it back.
Turbolift Therapy
"Bridge."
"Just talk to them."
"I can't."
"You'll have to come to some sort of mutually agreed upon arrangement."
"Are you out of your mind?"
**
"Bridge."
"Just make a choice."
"I can't."
"Then you'll have to give them both up."
"Are you out of your mind?"
**
"Bridge."
"Someone is going to get hurt."
"I know."
"They would do anything for you."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
**
"You're being very selfish."
"I know."
"That won't stop either of them from loving you."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"Captain, I don't think this is getting us anywhere."
"Yeah. Bridge."
The First Time
And then there was something. It was the Universe pushing them together. How else could Kirk explain the chance encounter with Spock in Engineering, in a dark corner under a mass of catwalks and wires. How else could he explain their hands brushing as they both reached for something, their shoulders brushing together, and then his hand reaching out to brush Spock’s hair off his forehead. Foreheads touching, then lips, finally, finally meeting softly, eyes closing. And there were no questions and no decisions to be made, because they both knew that this something had been a long time coming.
The Second Time
Jim let the momentum carry him down the ice, straight to the door of Spock’s quarters. The door opened with a swoosh, and then he was in Spock’s arms, or maybe Spock was in his arms. Or they were melting together, their mouths and hands and hips. And he was in Spock’s bed and there were blinding flashes of light, and then he was happy, so happy, he was giddy and laughing and there was no darkness at all. And Spock, well, he wasn’t smiling, but his face was open and light and it was everything that Jim had wanted.
Aftermath
Kirk was covered in sweat, his body shaking. He’d already gotten sick more than once. Bones held him tightly, stroked his hair, and whispered “Tell me.” Kirk closed his eyes, and felt hot tears slide down his cheeks.
The worst thing was, Kirk didn’t even know why he was like this. Was he like this because he was here with Bones, because he loved Bones so much that he couldn’t bear what he had done? Or was he like this because he wasn’t with Spock, because he loved Spock so much that he couldn’t bear to be apart from him?
Ready Room Therapy
“So, Captain, about your issues…”
“Nicely put, Uhura.”
“I suppose you want me to suggest a few more brilliant solutions?”
“Nah. I gave up on that a while ago. Now I just enjoy our little talks.”
“Captain, I’m a bit worried that this…thing…is going to begin affecting the ship or our missions.”
“Really? Have you noticed any changes to the atmosphere on the Bridge?”
“Well…no.”
“That’s right. I’m good at compartmentalizing. We all are.”
“But eventually it will start taking its toll.”
“Maybe.”
“So…has being on the couch helped you work through things?”
“Not at all, Uhura, not at all.”
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*curses lack of an OT3 icon*
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i am also in need of an icon with all 3 of them! this story so needs one (or two or three...)
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Ok. Seriously? WOW.
Good god.
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I guess one criticism that I would have is that tired old saw: "show, don't tell." I know that the form constrains you, because each section is so short, but I think this fic would benefit from more focus on how the details tell the story. For example, in the sequel, there's a section talking about how Jim's stopped saying his lovers' names in bed - that's a really fantastic illustration of how painful their situation is, and I think a little more of that would really give a lot of polish to this story.
I know how you feel, being torn between those two pairings - it's awesome that you've turned that frustration into creative juice!
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