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Just a game to you

Summary:

They say the winner takes it all... but what if there is nothing to win? In a game of poker it is difficult to tell who is bluffing and who is truthful. Especially if everyone is cheating.

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If it had been subtle flirting since he picked Kirk up from the floor of a bar somewhere in Riverside, it now turned into something not subtle since he saved Chris on the Narada. He is not stupid, he knows exactly what Kirk wants to say to him. It’s the verbalisation of the ‘come hither’ look and Jim’s gestures and movements underline it even more. The cheek though, coming onto a superior officer and expecting to have success wearing the uniform a size too small so the muscles are extra visible and to touch him all the time, even if it is just straightening his uniform!

Because that is the thing about Kirks: they are so sure about themselves, they do everything they want to get what they want and they will trample over your poor heart to satisfy their cravings.

He might have been not even half as young as he was now but it was exactly the same: a sweet smile, a flirtatious line and sparkling blue eyes. And like an idiot he was caught in their gaze, he went to dorm parties he normally would not set a single foot into, spend entire evenings trying to cook up some Michelin- worthy dish he then tried to pass off as a ‘light snack I was in the mood of preparing, but somehow made way too much, want some?’ and then helped out with whatever problem Kirk could come up at three o’clock in the morning. And it was beautiful, putting on his boots hastily after receiving a comm message and running to the next shuttle to Canada and walk for hours through the forests near Vancouver, golden leaves surrounding them and getting stuck in his hair. George would pluck them out of his dark locks, smile at him and take his hand to make him walk faster, ‘so you don’t look like you just went for a tumble in colourful foliage’. Sitting on a window sill of George’s parents’ house looking for shooting stars only to get kissed when the first one appeared. Kissing in front of George’s parents under the mistletoe wearing ugly sweaters . Receiving a box of chocolates and a delightful night in bed on Valentine’s day. And he was ready to stop running, ready to stop  playing hide-and - seek and ready to commit for the first time ever. Ready to wait for hours in a corner of the library for George to finish up his essay, ready to bring him soup when he was ill. He was ready for forever.

He should have known that it was all in vain, that it was like trying to win at Poker with no good cards. Because in the end he was the loser of the game, lost in the void of non-existent communication. It only took a few weeks of him being distracted and not wrapped around George 24/7 and he would run across Kirk sitting in their spot with a pretty blonde woman, laughing and tucking her hair back behind a delicate ear. Only this was the real thing, until death do us apart and let’s live with 2.5 kids and a white picket fence. He was only a playdate, a rehearsal for the main act and apparently the only one who did not get the memo that this was not serious. And so whenever a rumour at the Academy came up after the Kelvin that he was helpless in love with the late George Kirk he’d only say that he’d never really cared for Kirk, his last order though … very interesting for a case study. For him George became an example, not only showing him how a captain should be but also how to become the winner in the game, to become the one who never had his heart broken. Oh, Chris broke plenty of hearts after George, left the kind Phil Boyce after a week of shore leave on Risa and the fair and just Richard Barnett after weeks of playing hard to get, both crying into their pillows, one on board of the many starships he was serving on, the other on earth at the Academy. He lured the whip-smart Commodore Batel, the benevolent Admiral Cornwell and the ever mysterious Number One in, only to leave whenever things were getting slightly more serious and moving away from the ‘hey, haven’t seen you in years! Let’s grab a coffee!’, barely saving their friendship. His friends joked that he must be allergic to trees whenever autumn hit and turned the Academy ground into a sea of shades of gold, red and brown and to sitting in a cozy spot in a café right next to a window and a big potted plant.

Deep down he buried his greatest secret: it happened not long after George became a father for the first time. It must have been late in the evening when his doorbell rang and a tired George Kirk stood in front of his door. He let him in, saw him putting his leather jacket on the hook the had put it all the times before. It was so very domestic, him waiting for someone to come home, to take their scarf, get them a pair of comfy slippers, serve them a hot beverage of their choice with some biscuits on the side. The kiss as he was tidying up had been unexpected but so very right and good. It was the stuff dreams were made up only made better by moving the entire affair to the bed. Well, affair would really be an accurate term for it. Kirk was craving some comfort, some peace and quiet and some affection from someone he mumbled he should have rather married. Kirk had shown his cards and what could he do but join right in. It was balm for his soul getting called darling and sweetheart again after such a long time by that lovely, soothing voice. But one should never assume that Christopher Pike was not a vindictive individual and bluffing had been his favourite pastime. And he had learned from the best how cheating is the most devastating.

So when George looked at him with big vulnerable eyes weeks later after they had done it in bed again begging if they could do this more often or even permanently he pushed him away, starting to laugh hysterically. Oh, poor Georgie looked so confused just like Chris did back at twenty-three when he waited for hours for George, his boyfriend, to join him at the small café next to the window and the potted plant and he never showed, too busy wooing Winona. God, wasn’t it ironic? He was cheating with this man on the woman this man had cheated with on him. It felt so good to push the golden boy from Iowa out of his bed and his life with a bitter smile and a sweet kiss, leaving him teary-eyed and craving for more. All that was left was a leather jacket still smelling of spicy cologne, a love bite on his neck and some old paper books their owner never took back to Iowa. And most importantly: a strong weakness for Kirks and their golden hair and beautiful eyes.

Which brought him back over twenty years later, he was now already into his mid-forties and still as stupid or naïve as before. He should have told Kirk the first time he used that flirty tone that he should stop this behaviour immediately. But he was caught in a flashback seeing that behaviour in a different face with eyes a different shade of blue. And Kirk had exploited that momentarily weakness mercilessly. Whether it was feeding him soup when he was still unable to leave the biobed after his short trip to the Narada or insisting on carrying Chris to his chair or to the sofa in his office, making sure he was comfortable and not in pain. Whether it was stroking the back of his hand when he was waiting for another check-up in medical (Phil’s eyes were shooting daggers as jealousy reared its ugly head) or taking off his boots Kirk was always at his side touching and comforting him. He was glad when Kirk shipped out with Spock and the entire entourage so he could build these walls inside him back up after Kirk had destroyed them so thoroughly. Chris was almost glad that the next time he saw Kirk it was after Nibiru, his fury kept him from getting lost in memories or nostalgia making stupid decisions. But he could not help himself, he could never get attached again. After. After George. And wasn’t it fitting that he would repay Kirk with all the heartbreak and pain that father and son had ever caused him? Laying on the floor after the attack at Daystrom feeling his heart and pulse slow down, blood growing colder and colder and his breath getting stuck in his throat he could only think that he had bet a lot and lost everything. And wishing Jim Kirk far better luck in love and life. It should not be difficult for Jim to see the affection in Spock’s eyes every time he did something ‘illogical’. Because playing safe was not automatically bad: Jim would lead a happy and fulfilled life with the support of a Vulcan which equals fidelity and safety and with Spock’s humanity even joy and just the right amount of emotion. And Chris? With his last breath he could admit to himself that he would lose every game if he just got to keep his George, if he could just turn back time to that day in Vancouver and could blurt out the declaration of love he held back till it was all over and gone and dead.

Dying felt very strange, seeing Spock melding with his body and Jim throwing himself onto him, shaking and crying while he himself felt like a random person passing by. Well, his hands were not wrinkly anymore and he could walk normally and the back pains were all gone. A big, calloused hand gently touched his elbow drawing his attention to the figure standing behind him, blond hair askew, leather jacket on and blue eyes sparkling. A simple ‘darling’ was enough for him to throw himself at George and whisper into his shoulder what brought his house of cards deep inside of him down: “I love you! Forever!” A soft kiss to his hair and an arm pulling him close. “I love you too. Always have and always will. And now time is on our side, forever is for us!”