Work Text:
1.) Splinter:
It was just his rotten luck... really it was. There he was on a beautiful beach with his wonderful crew and new lover, walking barefoot like everyone else, when wham... he found the only fucking splinter on the whole damned planet. He was just positive it was the only one because it had embedded itself in the bottom of his foot.
Also, proof that it was just his rotten luck was that his overprotective Vulcan lover saw him as he carefully hobbled from the area, because there could be more splinters just to prove his earlier theory wrong, and sat on the warm sand to remove the offensive piece of wood.
"Captain, are you injured?" came the swift question.
"Just a splinter, Spock. Nothing life threatening," Kirk assured him with a slight grimace as he prodded the area around the tiny piece of wood.
"Due to your numerous allergies; you should seek out Dr. McCoy; so that he may ascertain the proper treatment for your injury," he insisted.
"Really, I can take care of it myself," an exasperated Jim said.
"I must insist that you cease trying to tend to your own injuries, Jim," Spock said as he deftly picked up and carried his young lover over to the lounging doctor.
'Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed,' Kirk thought as he waited for a good ribbing from his other lover.
2.) Paper Cut:
Jim hissed as he turned the page on the book. Wincing slightly at the sting as he put his thumb in his mouth and prayed that Spock had not heard him. He was unsurprised when the Vulcan appeared with a 'not worried' expression on his face.
"Are you injured?" Spock queried aloud while Kirk internally cringed. Those words never bode well for him.
"Not really. Just an annoying paper cut on my thumb. See, it's not even bleeding," Kirk said as innocently as he could while holding his thumb out for inspection.
"I was aware that you were working on 'paperwork'. However, I was unaware that you could be cut by it. Being as it is on the terminal or PADD," Spock said with confusion clearly coloring his voice.
"It can't... though if it could; I'm pretty damned sure I would find the way," Kirk said with a mirthless laugh while holding up his book. "I was taking a break and reading a book."
"Are you informing me that the beaten wood pulp of your reading material is the cause of your injury?" Spock asked calmly while eying Jim's book collection.
"Yeah, Spock. It cut me a very tiny bit," Jim muttered while slowly getting up.
"It is illogical to keep things that can cause you physical damage," Spock replied.
"Right, why don't I just go and see Bones," Jim said while quickly gathering his books to keep them safe from the overprotective Vulcan.
"That is a good idea. With your immune system, it is likely that you have gotten an infection from your injury," the Vulcan declared, still looking as if he was plotting on the disposal of his books.
"Yeah... actually, I'm doing it so you don't incinerate my books with your eye beams!" Jim exclaimed frantically under his breath, while running for Bones' ‘office' in med bay. He loved Spock dearly, but he did tend to take things to extremes.
3.) Stubbed toe:
Jim is a stickler for law. One law in particular seems determined to beat him to a bloody pulp, Murphy's Law. This law also seemed to make the impossible very possible.
Proof of his theory? If you were to watch Holos, scrutinize the Schematics of the living quarters aboard the Enterprise, or simply look around; you would say that what happened to him was impossible. Still…
Jim had gotten out of bed during the middle of the night to… get some ‘relief' after passing out from too much ‘holiday cheer’. When he made his way back, he had managed to stub his bare toes on heaven knows what.
“Son of a Klingon!” he cursed due to the unexpected pain traveling through his toes and up his leg.
This, naturally, alerted an overprotective Vulcan to rush to the human's side. “Are you satisfactory, Captain?”
“Yeah, I just stubbed my toes,” he complained.
“Why are you shortening your toes?” the confused Vulcan inquired.
Jim sighed as he sat down heavily in a nearby chair. “I'm not trying to do anything like that.”
“You said…” he began.
“That I stubbed my toes. Which means I somehow managed to kick something, hard,” he confessed as he winced at the low-level throbbing in his toes.
“Why…” he started with wide eyes.
“Nope,” he cut him off. “This was 100% accidental. It hurts, but I'll be fine after I get some more sleep. Good night, Spock. I'll see you in the morning.”
Rather than retiring for the night, he watched the human sleep. Assuring himself that his partner was safe. He would watch him closely the following day, determined to take him to Medical if he thought that it was warranted.
4.) Burned tongue:
The Captain has always held the view that what you have survived, helps form your core. It doesn't define you, just helps (or hurts) how you behave in certain circumstances.
Tarsus IV had left him with a few questionable habits. The first has made him hyper aware of his surroundings. He doesn't jump at shadows (anymore), but he observes, assesses, and categorizes every situation. A good thing for a Captain.
He would try any food. Which was bad for his health, because of his known and unknown allergies. He does try to avoid a food once it has been proven that he was allergic to it. Though, it feels like there is always something new to add to his ever-expanding allergy list.
He always has snacks nearby and has a tendency of hoarding non-perishable foods in his cabin. Yes, it was a bad habit, but his hoarding had been handy from time to time.
The worst habit had caused his current situation. That was eating too fast. Now, you must be thinking that he was choking on his food; that was not the case. Nope, he ate his food, which was delicious, before it had properly cooled down. This caused him to suffer from first- and second-degree oral burns.
Nothing that would tax the dermal regenerators. In fact, had there not been a second-degree burn, the machine would not have been needed. Sure, Bones had scolded him, but he also laughed at his dilemma.
“You better watch yourself, or our pointy-eared hobgoblin is going to check the temperature of every bite of food you eat,” McCoy laughed at him.
Jim groaned at his lover's words, “Don't give him ideas. He has already chastised our Orion hosts for this. I would like to see him try that with your mother. She popped you on your head the one time you tried to get onto her about ‘properly cooling' her cookies.”
Bones chuckled at the thought. “Get out of here. I need to do my work and your knight in logical form is menacing innocent personnel. Try to tame your lion.”
Sadly, Spock had heard the Doctor's teasing and had programmed a scanner to detect the temperature of his food… and diligently scanned every meal that he ate. His life, everyone. A comedy of everyday woes.
5.) Funny Bone:
“Son of a lame Troglodyte!” Jim yelped loudly after he accidentally hit his elbow on the Turbolift door. He needed to get Scotty to look at that. Those doors closed too quickly to be safe.
“Captain, are you injured?” Spock uttered the words that he had come to dread.
He scrunched up his nose as he rubbed his elbow. “I'm fine. I hit my funny bone on the Turbolift doors.”
The Vulcan tilted his head (which he always interpreted as ‘Humans are an illogical bunch of bananas.’) “Why are you not happy, if it was your funny bone which was struck?”
“Spock, ‘funny bone' is human slang for the humerus bone. It's not fatal, but it can hurt,” Uhura explained calmly, obviously trying not to laugh at the situation.
“I see. Doctor McCoy should still be notified,” he insisted. Which Jim agreed for a whole different reason. He needed to hide from his overprotective boyfriend for a little bit. Hopefully, Bones would share a few fingers of whiskey with him.
1.) Head:
Jim had been on Shore Leave, enjoying an easy stroll through the locals open air market. Not eating anything (though there were certainly some tempting looking morsels.)
He nodded his head and grinned at passersby as they made their way to an unknown location. Well, unknown to him, he trusted Spock and Bones to keep him safe. Actually, Spock would have him wrapped in cotton, with Bones trailing after them with his hypo ready. The only time he wasn't treated as a fragile princess, was when his lovers took it in their head to fuck him.
He had been hopeful that said event was about to happen (hey, he enjoyed sex and it was a doctor approved exercise!) Anyway, his happy fun times would not be the focal point for his day.
He would not be spit-roasted by his lovers on this day. He would not be screaming their names in ecstasy. Nope, he would be laid out in the local medical facility because of a child's game.
Qutefng was a game that could be described as a mix of Frisbee and discus, with the disc weighing 7 to 10 kilograms. At this event, one of the Linglung missed catching the disc, though it didn't get far, as it was stopped by the side of Jim's head. Whom, naturally, dropped like a bad habit.
Leonard and Spock rushed to their lover and managed to get to him, just in time for him to be whisked away to medical.
He had no idea how long he was out, but when he came to it was with Spock holding him down (not for sexy fun time) and Bones cursing up a storm (again, not for sexy wrong reasons).
“Dammit Jim, stop moving. That disc did a fair amount of damage and they transported you before I could scan you. They meant well, but their teleporter is not as advanced as ours. So, you had a rough ride and the jostling did more harm than good. Scotty is on stand-by to teleport us straight to med-bay once you're stable. I know you were looking forward to shore leave, but you are hereby confined to a bed… with doing nothing more strenuous than eating. Sorry Darling, this is one injury where Spock and I agree. So, be a good boy and follow orders.”
The captain groaned in pain and misery. He just couldn't get a break. Maybe he could talk them into sexy fun times... after his head stops throbbing and his stomach doesn't feel like he drank spoiled milk.
~ Fin…