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Star Trek Reboot Fic: The Ex-Wife
The Ex-Wife
(Because there's really no reason to assume McCoy's marriage was the same as in Prime.)
Jim is bored. He's been at Starfleet Academy a month and he's acing all his classes without breaking a sweat. Uhura still won't give him the time of day or her first name. There's other fish in the sea but even that's gotten a little repetitive: it's kind of startling, actually, how easy it is to get laid on this campus. High stress environment, simple relief. Jim is a little worried that he's going to forget how to charm.
But mostly Jim is bored because he's finished all his homework (the stuff that matters, anyway, he stopped doing the exercises for warp calculations because he can do them in his sleep and the professor never collects) and McCoy hasn't. McCoy is still working on his homework and Jim is sprawled sideways across his bed because McCoy promised they'd go out tonight, only McCoy doesn't know when to put down the PADD and go have some fun.
"I'm bored," Jim announces. He pushes up on his elbow to watch McCoy's back.
"You could go without me," McCoy suggests.
"I don't want to drink alone," says Jim.
McCoy snorts, but doesn't look up. "Doubt you'd be alone for long."
"But I wouldn't be with my best friend in the whole wide world," Jim insists, flopping back on the bed.
It's then that McCoy's computer chirps sweetly, "Incoming call."
Whoever's on the line makes McCoy mutter, "Oh hell," but he takes the call without kicking Jim out so it must not be that big a deal. Jim rolls over on his stomach with his arms folded under his chin to watch, wondering who this guy is. He seems upset that McCoy has fucked off to Starfleet. Brother, maybe? Really, really fey brother? Jim knows he shouldn't judge a man by his lisp, but--
McCoy says, "What the hell business is it of yours? We're not married anymore," and hangs up.
Jim blinks.
"Jesus," McCoy mutters.
"You," Jim accuses. "You said wife."
"Huh?" McCoy says, swinging his desk chair around. "Ex-wife. That was her."
Jim scrambles up to sitting, halfway ready to jump off the bed. "Wife. That was a guy, Bones."
McCoy stares at him. He still seems confused, but also wary now. "And what's your goddamn problem with that? You're not particular."
Which is true, if totally beside the point. "You lied to me!" Jim says.
"I married the biggest, bitchiest queen on the planet," McCoy says. "I didn't call 'er my husband the entire time we were together, why would I start now?"
"But I didn't know that!" Jim says. "You never told me that. There was no context! You let me think you were straight."
"So?" McCoy asks. "What difference does it make?"
Jim opens his mouth and says something he didn't entirely mean to let out. "I've been refraining from hitting on you because I thought you were straight."
"When has that ever stopped you?" McCoy asks.
"I was trying to be a nice guy!" Jim protests.
McCoy turns back to his desk, shaking his head, but he also mutters, "Idiot," in what Jim has come to recognize as fond annoyance, so he figures they're all right.
Jim lies down again, chin in his hands, and makes himself relax. McCoy keeps working and ignoring him. Jim bites his lip, thinks: what the hell, that was practically an invitation; says softly: "So, hey."
"Yeah?" McCoy asks over his shoulder.
"You wanna go get a drink with me?"
"Hell no," McCoy says.
"Oh," Jim says. He really has lost it. He can't even get a date from his best friend.
"I keep telling you, I've got another essay to write after this," McCoy goes on, "and a drink's not gonna make that any easier. Tell you what, though, take your clothes off and I'll fuck you when I'm done with this problem set."
"Oh," Jim says again, this time surprised. Keep up, Jim, he thinks: you have lost it, asking him out for drinks when that's what you were going to do anyway. But that's all right. At least McCoy's on the ball here. "Okay," Jim says, grinning, because really, McCoy has a much better plan.
---
If you're here from LJ, you can sign in with openid and then come back to this page to comment.
(Because there's really no reason to assume McCoy's marriage was the same as in Prime.)
Jim is bored. He's been at Starfleet Academy a month and he's acing all his classes without breaking a sweat. Uhura still won't give him the time of day or her first name. There's other fish in the sea but even that's gotten a little repetitive: it's kind of startling, actually, how easy it is to get laid on this campus. High stress environment, simple relief. Jim is a little worried that he's going to forget how to charm.
But mostly Jim is bored because he's finished all his homework (the stuff that matters, anyway, he stopped doing the exercises for warp calculations because he can do them in his sleep and the professor never collects) and McCoy hasn't. McCoy is still working on his homework and Jim is sprawled sideways across his bed because McCoy promised they'd go out tonight, only McCoy doesn't know when to put down the PADD and go have some fun.
"I'm bored," Jim announces. He pushes up on his elbow to watch McCoy's back.
"You could go without me," McCoy suggests.
"I don't want to drink alone," says Jim.
McCoy snorts, but doesn't look up. "Doubt you'd be alone for long."
"But I wouldn't be with my best friend in the whole wide world," Jim insists, flopping back on the bed.
It's then that McCoy's computer chirps sweetly, "Incoming call."
Whoever's on the line makes McCoy mutter, "Oh hell," but he takes the call without kicking Jim out so it must not be that big a deal. Jim rolls over on his stomach with his arms folded under his chin to watch, wondering who this guy is. He seems upset that McCoy has fucked off to Starfleet. Brother, maybe? Really, really fey brother? Jim knows he shouldn't judge a man by his lisp, but--
McCoy says, "What the hell business is it of yours? We're not married anymore," and hangs up.
Jim blinks.
"Jesus," McCoy mutters.
"You," Jim accuses. "You said wife."
"Huh?" McCoy says, swinging his desk chair around. "Ex-wife. That was her."
Jim scrambles up to sitting, halfway ready to jump off the bed. "Wife. That was a guy, Bones."
McCoy stares at him. He still seems confused, but also wary now. "And what's your goddamn problem with that? You're not particular."
Which is true, if totally beside the point. "You lied to me!" Jim says.
"I married the biggest, bitchiest queen on the planet," McCoy says. "I didn't call 'er my husband the entire time we were together, why would I start now?"
"But I didn't know that!" Jim says. "You never told me that. There was no context! You let me think you were straight."
"So?" McCoy asks. "What difference does it make?"
Jim opens his mouth and says something he didn't entirely mean to let out. "I've been refraining from hitting on you because I thought you were straight."
"When has that ever stopped you?" McCoy asks.
"I was trying to be a nice guy!" Jim protests.
McCoy turns back to his desk, shaking his head, but he also mutters, "Idiot," in what Jim has come to recognize as fond annoyance, so he figures they're all right.
Jim lies down again, chin in his hands, and makes himself relax. McCoy keeps working and ignoring him. Jim bites his lip, thinks: what the hell, that was practically an invitation; says softly: "So, hey."
"Yeah?" McCoy asks over his shoulder.
"You wanna go get a drink with me?"
"Hell no," McCoy says.
"Oh," Jim says. He really has lost it. He can't even get a date from his best friend.
"I keep telling you, I've got another essay to write after this," McCoy goes on, "and a drink's not gonna make that any easier. Tell you what, though, take your clothes off and I'll fuck you when I'm done with this problem set."
"Oh," Jim says again, this time surprised. Keep up, Jim, he thinks: you have lost it, asking him out for drinks when that's what you were going to do anyway. But that's all right. At least McCoy's on the ball here. "Okay," Jim says, grinning, because really, McCoy has a much better plan.
---
If you're here from LJ, you can sign in with openid and then come back to this page to comment.