The thing was, Jim knew this wasn’t one of his brighter moments. In fact, being able to dodge Bones and Spock had been on the level of breaking into a high-level Starfleet database; which was to say it really wasn’t all that hard, but holy fucking Jesus was it a pain in the ass. Talk about calling in favors. At this point even Chekov was looking at him with suspicion.
Waking up in the white medical room had been somewhat of a shock, to say the least. Not that he remembered much of what happened. That whole ‘mostly dead’ thing. Kind of trippy. When Jim tried to think about it, to recall details, he could only remember how much his body hurt and a pair of wet, agonized brown eyes. His reaction to those eyes made him uncomfortable, so he very carefully packed that shit in a box in his mind and went about performing the eight billion different aptitude tests that Bones had come up with to test what had changed.
Bones had given him one of his eyebrows of death when he caught on to the fact that Jim was half-assing the Starfleet tests, being careful to test at his previous genius levels. To be honest, Bones- who was no slouch in the brains department himself- hadn’t taken very long to realize what Jim was doing. He’d left it at a mild-sounding grunt of ‘Hurrm’ which Jim knew very well that meant ‘we WILL be discussing this in great detail later, Jimmy, possibly with copious amounts of alcohol.’
Jim, knowing full well that Spock had a meeting that would keep him occupied for a very convenient three hours, decided that there was no time like the present, and made his careful way out of the medbay.
So other than being watched over by his human and Vulcan hawks -Seriously. Try slipping away from a very. Vigilant. Vulcan. - waylaid by just about every nurse in the damn medical center (Christ. Whoever that Cassandra Chapel woman was had a big mouth on her. Whatever happened to kissing and not telling?! Cassandra? Charlene? Christine! That was it. Yeah, her.) Jim finally managed to make it into some civvies and out the door. He was more than a bit miffed that Bones had dressed him in one of those hospital gowns that left his ass hanging to the wind, so the civvies were pretty much Jim’s major priority. A man, even one with an ass as fine as his, found it difficult to face the world without underwear. Unless you were Scotty. And really that was only that once. Okay, twice. Six times. Jim paused for a moment to reflect that his shipwide rule against kilt usage and windy away missions was really one of his better command decisions, bar none.
It had been simple logic. Inwardly, Jim cringed, looking around for Spock to possibly give him Tiny Smirk #32- aka the ‘you have pleased me, human’ face, to figure out where they were keeping Khan. Bones had been mum on exactly how he had gotten enough blood for a transfusion- a transfusion?! And it wasn’t like they were just going to keep the dude on ice. There were only a few high-level security containment areas left after Khan had taken out most of Starfleet with the Vengeance.
Well, a few with enough juice to keep someone as powerful as Khan detained.
Still, Jim Kirk’s momma hadn’t raised any dummies, and he managed to get his hands on a pair of ‘Fleet security reds with very little fanfare. Starfleet had its security issues, but waltzing up to the highest security containment area in leather trousers and a vintage band t-shirt was pushing it just a tad.
It was weird. This new him. This ... “improved” Jim Kirk. He could feel the change in his blood; the way his body was just a little too revved up. It was like a hit that wouldn’t stop. His eyesight was clearer, Jim could run until he touched the sun and the first time he jerked off, he felt like his spooge practically glowed with perfected DNA material, going down the proverbial drain. Well, okay. The literal drain too. What? ‘FleetMed had really nice fucking showers, okay?
Still, Jim had unanswered questions, and Jim absolutely fucking hated having questions. He licked his lips a little nervously as he stood in front of the room in which Khan was kept. The man sat there reading an ancient book, turning each page with an almost negligent absent-mindedness. For such an innocuous sight, it jarred. For Khan, books weren’t antiques, were they? He’d only been defrosted for a few months. Before that he lived in a time where books were completely commonplace.
As a precaution, Jim hacked the security feed (Really. It was their own fault. It was practically begging for a little added extra code. Jim would totally tell Spock later of his little insight- once he’d deleted the feeds of course) and carefully waited until Khan had already been fed before using his skills to break into the -pft- high-level security area.
The doors swooshed open with their customary lack of fanfare. Khan calmly turned the page of his book, ignoring Jim’s presence as he stepped through, ignoring the closed-in feeling that he felt whenever he was in a space as small as this.
Jim resisted the urge to clear his throat. Instead he straightened his shoulders. Khan calmly closed the book, running his hands over the spine and bringing it to his face. Khan’s weird eyes drifted shut as he inhaled, smelling the leather cover.
Jim’s mouth dropped open a little. He licked his lip, shifting a little in place. Khan’s eyes snapped open as though he had been waiting for Jim to move.
“Kirk.” Khan drawled the word, drawing out the middle sound and emphasizing the ending ‘k’. The expression on his face was a little bored; utterly unsurprised.
Jim’s eyes narrowed.
He took two steps forward, stopping just out of Khan’s reach. He realized that his fists were clenched at his sides and forced himself into an easy relaxation.
Funnily enough, there just wasn’t an easy conversational opener for “hey, even though you’re a crazy, murdering, whackadoodle, I kind of need to pick your brain about that time you saved my life with your perfect blood.” This was the guy that had fired on his baby. His Enterprise. Because of him they’d lost 53 crew members. Jim couldn’t help but think, what the fuck was he doing here?
Khan actually rolled his eyes, standing up and putting aside his book. “You are a very foolish to come here alone.”
Jim frowned, refusing to step away, to back down. Fuck that noise, man. He wasn’t afraid of this guy. “I’m very interested in some answers. You seem like the kind of guy who likes the sound of his own voice. Thought you could help me out.”
Something flicked in Khan’s pale, green gaze. He said nothing, holding his position as he tilted his head back slightly to meet Jim’s gaze. It was kind of bizarre, actually. Khan had seemed so imposing (and still did to tell the truth. That shapeless tunic thing all prisoners were required to wear over the trousers did nothing to hide the tightness or strength of Khan’s lean body) that it was strange to realize that without Khan’s ‘fleet boots, he was a bit shorter than Jim.
“Help... you... out.” Khan spoke slowly, face still utterly blank. “You are here for a ... favor.”
Jim shrugged, which, since neither of them would take a step back, caused him to brush his shoulder slightly against Khan’s.
“Look. I told you that I would make sure that I would do everything I can to make you answer for what you did. And I did.” Jim smiled as smugly as he dared. He had. Between his testimony and Spock’s, Khan had been sentenced to go back into exile- frozen with his crew and kept in an unspecified Starfleet location. (Frankly, Jim was pretty sure he could hack the coordinates in a few seconds, but Spock would do that thing where his face frowned without actually showing expression and ... no. Nope. Not thinking about him. That.)
Khan squared his shoulders, eyes narrowing in a glare. Jim was surprised at the outward show of temper.
“You... saved my life.” Jim wanted to know why.
And that was the pisser. Khan hadn’t fought Bones once. He’d voluntarily offered his blood. He’d even offered to help Bones with the serum to replace the irradiated cells, but apparently Bones had gone into such a tizzy that they’d had to sedate Khan and hustle him back to his cage before Bones made good on his threat to whup him upside the head.
The fact that Bones would have been perfectly happy to sedate Khan in order to do it was pretty damn funny when Jim thought about it. Bones was kind of crazy like that.
“I could do little else.”
Jim tilted his head slightly to the left as he refused to break eye contact. To his shock, Khan actually backed down, taking a step away and looking down at the floor. The slightly submissive gesture made alarm bells go off in Jim’s head.
“Why?” From the turn of Jim’s face, he could see that Khan was glaring down at his bare toes.
Khan’s feet were long, with high arches. There was a freckle on the top of his foot. And Jim was pretty sure that he was losing his ever-fucking mind. Khan’s feet? Really?
“Your Vulcan was most ... adamant that I offer my services.”
Jim blinked. “First, he’s not my Vulcan. Second, so what? You just crashed landed a Dreadnaught class starship into the middle of Starfleet. You’ve killed god knows how many people, and almost killed my crew. What the fuck makes this one instance so special that you’d want to help? Not being rude here, man but altruism doesn’t exactly seem to get you off.”
“I had nothing else to lose.” In a flash, Khan was staring at Jim again, those strange, pale eyes boring into his own. “Why shouldn’t I help someone whose actions warrants such a gift? It is my blood.” Khan stared at him so intensely that Jim began to feel like he was missing something, here.
It was only the last year or so of galavanting around the galaxy, getting himself into and out of bizarre situations that kept Jim’s face still. Fuck, how was that even possible? Jim just stared back, fighting to keep the knowledge off his face.
Khan. Didn’t. Know.
He had to. No, there was no way. Jim whirled, ignoring Khan’s slightly surprised widening of his eyes and began pacing, the restless energy too much to keep him still. Shit. Shit, this is why this was such a fucking bad idea. Khan had accused him of having a conscience- and shiiiit. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t just leave the guy in the dark.
“Your crew isn’t dead.” Jim didn’t even have time to wince at the awkwardness of his blurted words before Khan was on him, pushing him back against the wall so hard that Jim’s head rang like an out of tune bell.
Fuck, how did he move so fast? Jim opened his mouth to gasp for air, but Khan’s strong forearm was on his throat, holding Jim in place. Jim tried to raise his hands, and Khan shifted his grip, pushing both of Jim’s wrists to the wall with a grip so tight that he could feel the bones grind against each other. He was pinned to the wall by the surprising heat of Khan’s body, one leg between his to push him off balance.
Jim gasped for air, standing with what was, for him, rather a calm pliancy. The guy was batshit crazy about his crew. On second thought, he probably could have handled telling him with a bit more diplomacy. Khan was so close that his bangs fluttered with Jim’s breath, falling forward from their customary slicked-back state to brush against his face.
“If you lie to me, I will know it.”
Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.* Jim forced his body not to react to the adrenaline coursing through his veins, taking a calm breath now that his airway wasn’t obscured. Now, he was doubly glad that Spock had wanted to debrief him almost as soon as he’d woken up in the medbay. At the time Jim had thought it kind of... well, cute that Spock had obviously been so pleased to tell how he had outsmarted Khan. The last time Spock had been so obviously emotional had been when Spock had found a brand new mineral deposit, and the only way Jim had been able to tell Spock was even remotely excited was with the way he had shifted slightly from one foot to the other and had almost sprinted to the science labs, but sitting there in the hospital bed with Spock standing at parade-rest besides him, his eyes slightly warmer than usual... yeah. Spock had been... pleased.
“Spock didn’t lie to you. You beamed over the torpedoes, but he just made sure your crew was still frozen on the Enterprise. They’re alive. All seventy-two of them.”
Khan’s body went almost painfully rigid as he sucked in one breath. Had Jim not been pressed up so tightly to him, he likely wouldn’t have even noticed his reaction. Maybe that was why Jim actually got the drop on him. Jim pushed, using his elbows and the jut of his hip to break Khan’s hold. Khan actually blinked up at Jim stupidly from his position on the ground for a few seconds before catching Jim’s foot and yanking him off balance so that Jim crashed down besides him with a cry.
From then it was a free-for-all. Pike would have called it another epic beating. Jim quickly found out that having some of Khan’s blood cleaning up his system was not the same as being a genetically engineered superman, but he was also able to hold his own. Barely.
Jim caught a quick glance of pleased smugness in Khan’s gaze as Jim punched him, finally able to fight back. Jim’s mom had always said the Kirks were a little hot-headed, and Jim found the exchange of punches and kicks extremely satisfying. Not being able to fight back against Khan’s savagery had been agonizing, and now that he could, Jim took full advantage; hardly noticing his own split knuckles as he punched Khan in the cheek, the belly, the kidneys. Each grunt of pain was like music to his ears.
Eventually though Jim found himself held again, this time on the floor near Khan’s cot. Khan held his wrists with one hand, and from this position- Jim on his back and Khan kneeling over him, pushing his trapped wrists into the floor- it was impossible to move. Jim arched his back, trying to throw the other man off of him, but it was useless.
“Why did you come here?” Khan looked utterly calm. Jim blinked, shocked as he actually watched Khan’s healing capabilities take over. The bruise near Khan’s left eye slowly began to change color as the blood vessels under the pale skin began to heal. The swollen, split upper lip became less puffy, leaving only a trace of blood trailing from the corner of Khan’s lip. “Why?” It was a controlled hiss and Jim grunted as his wrists were pushed even further into the solidness of the floor.
It hurt. Jim felt strangely fragile, as though Khan could snap any one of his bones at any time.
“Let go of me.” Jim thought his voice was pretty calm given the circumstances. A little belatedly, it occurred to him that Khan had been playing with him, testing his post-Khan blood cocktail reactions against what little impact he’d had when the two of them had fought previously. Khan might have been temporarily surprised at finding his crew was alive, but he would never have been so shocked to allow himself to be compromised. Every punch, kick, and swing of Jim’s had been tested. Catalogued. Measured against what he’d known and what Khan now knew.
“You have no doubt engineered things that you were undetected in getting here. Clever, clever, Mr. Kirk. But now, you have no one to rescue you.” Khan shifted, pushing more of his weight down onto Jim. “Your Vulcan knew that I was not to be trusted, yet here you are. I will ask you again. Why are you here, Kirk?” Khan shifted so that their pelvises bumped together. Khan’s voice was a low rumble, a smug purr that normally would have pissed Jim right the fuck off.
Instead he found himself uncharacteristically blank. Khan’s face was so close to his that their lips almost brushed as he spoke. Jim relaxed, his back moving from its awkward arch and back down onto the floor, sending their lower bodies out of alignment.
There was no. fucking. way that he was reading this right.
Jim’s body though- it made the adrenaline-fueled change from fight to fuck with hardly a hitch. When Khan moved again, pushing against the vee of Jim’s legs, Jim stretched up to meet Khan’s lips with his own.
It was just as much of a fight as they had just finished, both of them fighting for ownership of the kiss. Jim bit at Khan’s lower lip, jerking in Khan’s hold as his brain caught up with what his body had already decided was a damn good idea. Khan’s tongue licked at his mouth, and Jim jerked his arms out of Khan’s grip to push him away.
Well, not so much push him away as to fist one hand at his hip, the other tangling in Khan’s hair, pulling him closer, shifting just enough that they both shuddered at the feeling of their cocks rubbing against one another’s. Jim watched as Khan’s eyes darkened, the pupil flaring wide in that sex-stupid way that made Jim wonder if he could make him lose some of that control.
It was silent in the small room, except for the deep, almost heavy pants, the gasps and occasional moan of surprise. Khan was strangely reticent in this, especially after handing Jim his ass in a variety of ways when fighting.
Jim had kissed first, Khan echoed him. It was Jim that had cupped the bulge of Khan’s dick in the regulation prisoner trousers, Khan freezing in place for a heartbeat before fumbling at the fastenings of Jim’s own trousers, his moan muffled in Jim’s mouth as he brought their cocks together. Khan’s long fingers wrapping around him made Jim make a sharp sound in the back of his throat. Khan seemed rather appreciative, rubbing his thumb over the slick head, biting at his jaw as Jim sucked in breath that seemed too heavy for his lungs.
Jim yanked Khan closer by the hair, wincing a little when he cut his lip on Khan’s teeth. The sharp taste of iron caused Khan to grunt, and Jim gasped when Khan bit at his lip again. He could feel the strange tingle as his skin healed, only to be almost painfully overly-sensitive as Khan kissed him again. Neither of them gave up ownership of the kiss, Khan, then Jim, then Khan as their hands moved together, stroking together until Jim had to break away from the kiss with a strangled “Fuck!” as he came. He only had time to suck in another quick, shocked breath before Khan’s fingers tightened, his grip now slick, fingers tightening slightly as they tangled with Jim’s.
Khan was utterly still when he came. His face had flushed high on his cheekbones, spreading slightly down his long face to his neck, mouth gaping open in a slight ‘o’ as he sucked in oxygen. Jim licked his lips at the sight, refusing to react when Khan’s gaze sharpened on the quick movement of his tongue. They stared at each other for a heartbeat, two, then shifted, moving apart.
“So... that was ... unexpected.” Jim tucked himself back in, coming up to his knees with a lurch, and zipping up. Khan was still sprawled where he’d ended up on his back, staring almost without blinking up at Jim’s face.
Jim opened his mouth. Closed it. Refused to blush. “I wanted to know why you saved me. That’s all.”
Jim caught a quick flash of amusement in Khan’s eyes, hidden almost immediately as Spock’s clipped voice rang out in the small space. Jim hadn’t even heard the doors open. Oh jesusffuck, how long had Spock been standing there?
Jim jerked his gaze to Spock’s cold, utterly impassive mask of Vulcan Unhappiness, almost wincing when Spock’s gaze slid to where he knelt in front of Khan, to Khan’s sprawled frame near his cot. Spock’s nostrils flared as he inhaled the sharp musk of sex.
“And... Captain... you have your answer, do you not?”
Jim stood up, blinking at the mocking way Khan said his title. He honestly had no idea what to say. ‘Gosh, okay well thanks for the orgasm--enjoy incipient popsicle-hood’ seemed a little harsh, even for him.
“You really should keep a better watch on your Captain, Commander. He tends to get up to all sorts of trouble when you’re not there to ... intervene.”
Jim almost had a heart attack when Khan calmly lifted his hand, still wet from their mingled come, and licked his fingers, green eyes zeroing in on Spock’s dark brown gaze. Flustered, still not believing what Khan had just done, Jim tripped over his own two feet as he tried to hurry away, very carefully refusing to look at Spock as he stumbled towards the doorway. He knew that he was blushing hard enough that he was surprised that his extremities even worked, let alone functioned.
This certainly wasn’t the first time Spock had caught him right after having sex, but it was the first time that Jim felt... awkward. Er. Or something. Still he made sure that Spock left first. The last time the two of them had been left alone, Spock had actually broken Khan’s arm. Jim tossed one look back over his shoulder before the doors slid shut. Khan was sitting, still sprawled, looking utterly debauched, a faint smile still on his face.
Jim carefully reset the coding on Khan’s security feeds, locking the door and erasing any traces that he had been there at all.
“Excuse me, sirs. No visiting. That guy’s dangerous, ya know?” The security officer shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, obviously uncomfortable, looking a little guilty at having stepped out for a coffee. It wasn’t his fault that he had been waylaid. It was Jim’s though.
Jim flashed a smile, much too aware that Spock had shifted so that he was further away from Jim, each muscle in his body absolutely rigid. The last time Jim had seen him like this was right after Jim had taunted him about his mom. “Er. That’s okay. Good evening, Lieutenant.”
“Good evening, Captain. Commander.”
Jim couldn’t help but wince when Spock walked off without saying anything. Part of him still wasn’t sure what the fuck had just happened, but it would have been a hell of a lot better if Spock hadn’t witnessed ... whatever it was that he had actually witnessed. Jim started walking, heading back to medbay, where a no-doubt really irked Bones had already missed his patient.
And what the fuck was that bit at the end with Khan and the .. the.. licking? It was. It was almost... like he was rubbing Spock’s nose in the fact that he and Jim had just gotten off together...like he thought Spock would be jealous.
But that was just stupid.
Spock was with Uhura. Pretty solidly, if Jim was any sort of judge of that sort of thing.
Spock wouldn’t be ... jealous of Jim having a quick fuck. Hell, he did that sort of thing all the time. Well, at least all the time that his ass wasn’t firmly planted in the Captain’s chair. No. No, that was stupid. Spock most definitely wouldn’t be jealous.