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smartass_captainThe night Sam Kirk walks into the Kirk family farmhouse his little brother throws a fucking beer bottle at his face. He misses. If he'd hit, the next several years might not have happened.
Jim is twenty years old and his life is a fucking mess.
He's no longer in the goddamn hospital every other month, but still in mandatory therapy until he ages out of the system on his 21st birthday. His therapist has worked with him since. Well. Since he got mandated one by the University of Iowa's children's hospital when they brought him home and nursed him back from the brink of being starved to death. Sam isn't here about Tarsus though. He's here because he heard little Jimmy just got out of a stint in county for petty theft.
Why's a guy stealing bread in this day and age? Jim doesn't give him a satisfactory answer. He can't. There isn't one. He'd been better until he'd left his personal device at home for a weekend boke trip. Without his meal schedule Jim can't function. But see, his body doesn't tell him when he's hungry anymore either, so Jim hadn't noticed until it was day three and he started hurting. All sense left him. Next thing he knows he's sitting in a jail cell being watched while he eats the food they gave him because anyone can see Jim Kirk is still too thin. Jim hates it. That look of fucking pity.
He was home and on his fourth beer of the evening when his fucking older brother strides in like he hasn't been gone for the last damn near decade of Jim's life.
"Sober up. I want you to come into town with me tomorrow and take a test." Sam had said. Jim thinks he told his brother to fuck off. He thinks he tried, but he might have stormed off so the other didn't see him break down into tears. He dodges Sam for three days before they bond over noon breakfast talking about when their mom finally found out about and ditched Frank. Sam asks where Winona sent him then, since neither of them believes for a second she stayed Earthside to raise him herself.
Jim lies.
But the lie works. And so he lets Sam drive them into town chattering the whole time about Starfleet. He wants Jim to take an aptitude test. If he passes, well. Dear ol' big brother's gonna whisk him away to San Francisco so they can enlist together. Sam got in, you see. Second attempt, so maybe Jimmy won't be going with him Right away.
"Jim." Jim corrects him. He's toying with the idea of maybe letting Sam talk him into this, but he's not forgetting the last damn near decade so easily. Not forgiving it yet, either. He tells himself he'll take the stupid test to shut his brother up. And hell, maybe he'll even beat his 'big bro' and pass on a first try. He aces it, hangover and all. Sam seems real keen on congratulating himself for giving Jim pointers the last couple days and Jim doesn't argue much.
A change of scenery seems like a decent idea.
All he wants to take fits into a single duffel bag he tosses into the back of Sam's beater of a truck and they make for San Francisco...
Jim is twenty years old and his life is a fucking mess.
He's no longer in the goddamn hospital every other month, but still in mandatory therapy until he ages out of the system on his 21st birthday. His therapist has worked with him since. Well. Since he got mandated one by the University of Iowa's children's hospital when they brought him home and nursed him back from the brink of being starved to death. Sam isn't here about Tarsus though. He's here because he heard little Jimmy just got out of a stint in county for petty theft.
Why's a guy stealing bread in this day and age? Jim doesn't give him a satisfactory answer. He can't. There isn't one. He'd been better until he'd left his personal device at home for a weekend boke trip. Without his meal schedule Jim can't function. But see, his body doesn't tell him when he's hungry anymore either, so Jim hadn't noticed until it was day three and he started hurting. All sense left him. Next thing he knows he's sitting in a jail cell being watched while he eats the food they gave him because anyone can see Jim Kirk is still too thin. Jim hates it. That look of fucking pity.
He was home and on his fourth beer of the evening when his fucking older brother strides in like he hasn't been gone for the last damn near decade of Jim's life.
"Sober up. I want you to come into town with me tomorrow and take a test." Sam had said. Jim thinks he told his brother to fuck off. He thinks he tried, but he might have stormed off so the other didn't see him break down into tears. He dodges Sam for three days before they bond over noon breakfast talking about when their mom finally found out about and ditched Frank. Sam asks where Winona sent him then, since neither of them believes for a second she stayed Earthside to raise him herself.
Jim lies.
But the lie works. And so he lets Sam drive them into town chattering the whole time about Starfleet. He wants Jim to take an aptitude test. If he passes, well. Dear ol' big brother's gonna whisk him away to San Francisco so they can enlist together. Sam got in, you see. Second attempt, so maybe Jimmy won't be going with him Right away.
"Jim." Jim corrects him. He's toying with the idea of maybe letting Sam talk him into this, but he's not forgetting the last damn near decade so easily. Not forgiving it yet, either. He tells himself he'll take the stupid test to shut his brother up. And hell, maybe he'll even beat his 'big bro' and pass on a first try. He aces it, hangover and all. Sam seems real keen on congratulating himself for giving Jim pointers the last couple days and Jim doesn't argue much.
A change of scenery seems like a decent idea.
All he wants to take fits into a single duffel bag he tosses into the back of Sam's beater of a truck and they make for San Francisco...
no subject
Date: 2025-03-01 05:10 am (UTC)Instead he shifts them both into a more comfortable position, holding Jim close against his chest and rolling them onto their sides.
He blinks at the inquiry, pausing but not in a negative way. "Yes," he settles on, "I am aware you enjoy physical contact. I do also when it is with you. As such, it is prudent to ensure we share a sleeping space. We will do so once we have rested here for some time."
Now, after everything, he feels overwhelmed. He is happy though, he finds, which is most important.
no subject
Date: 2025-03-01 02:43 pm (UTC)"Easy enough to pull apart for a night....mmh, if it gets t'be too much for you too." Because regardless of how much Jim wants to never stop touching this Vulcan, he's more than aware that Touch was one of those things that makes Spock different to Jim. And this? It's a whole lot after the damn near Nothing they've done since the start of the term.
Jim can't remember ever snuggling up close to someone for Comfort. He'd thought it might be too Much, too stifling, but instead he just seems to melt against Spock. Twining their legs, keeping them as close as can be managed. All the tension bleeds out of him. Truth be told it's a Lot for Jim, too, who has no frame of reference for even the dregs of whatever emotions Spock feeds him through all the points they're touching. Easier to just let himself be held close and safe and to drift off into the most restful Sleep Jim will have ever had in his life.
No tossing or turning. No being awake at odd hours when Spock has finished resting or meditating. Just plain Out.