Archive of Our Own

Jim Kirk had not been raised in the life. He was not a child of the Family and he had no desire to become a member. After all, the Kirk name was not attached to the correct side of the law for Jim to ever think of making his way in the underground.

George Kirk had been a cop. A good one. One that had stood up against the mob morally, vocally, and physically. Which was exactly why George Kirk was currently resting peacefully under six feet of dirt with a bullet in his chest.

Which is why Jim Kirk was not a cop.

There was also the small issue of his arrest record. Which --not including the one he was about two minutes away from--was now sitting at a pretty nine.  A number that he didn’t actually want to increase, despite his current situation.

“Shit.” Jim shoved the sealed bags into his coat quickly. “You fucking owe me, you cocksucking, piss poor--”

“Not the time, Kirk!” Sulu hissed. He glanced over his shoulder and ran a hand nervously through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry okay?” He held up his hands defensively. “But I need someone to take it. Just for a few hours. That’s all. I’ll come get it from you first thing tomorrow.”

“I am not a fucking drug mule, Sulu!” Jim zipped up his jacket violently. “I’ve been to jail. I do not want to end up in fucking prison.”

“Tomorrow. First thing.” Sulu shot another glance over his shoulder. “Just go home. They’re going to be waiting for me and I can’t risk dumping it anywhere. The boss would kill me.”  Without another word Sulu walked out of the alley and turned up the collar of his heavy coat. He hunched his shoulders against the wind and disappeared into the night, leaving Jim in the alley with nearly half a pound of cocaine.

Gritting his teeth, Jim grabbed high on the chain-link fence behind him and used his weight to walk up the wall and over the fence, dropping smoothly to the other side. He grew up running around this city. He had almost as many bruises from learning to climb through it as he did from street brawls. Despite all of that, he never actually ran drugs for anyone. And now he had been pulled into it by Sulu, who had never been coy about working for the local mob. The mob that was oh-so-lovingly called The Federation, because they managed to reach out as far and wide as they pleased. Jim did not want to be a part of something he couldn’t escape, especially when the ringleader for the entire thing didn’t have a face. According to Sulu, no one knew exactly who ran the thing, but Jim had a feeling that wasn’t really the case. It seemed more like the guy just wasn’t stupid enough to let everyone know his face.

Jim started down the street, grumbling all the way back to his shithole apartment and praying that no one could tell what was in the inside pocket of his coat just by looking at him. The weight of the cocaine seemed hot against his chest all the way back home.

 

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The sun beating down on Jim’s face the next morning was the usual unwelcome wake up call. He’d come straight back home, tossed his shoes off, stored the cocaine under the loose board in the closet, and hung up his coat like it was an every night occurrence. The entire time he had been thinking of increasingly inventive ways to strangle Sulu.

Now, in the light of day, Jim was not feeling particularly less vengeful and it left a sour taste in his mouth before he even got up. He stretched with a groan and managed to haul himself out of bed before the first knock came.

There was no doubt it would be someone here for the drugs. Whether it was Sulu, someone he worked for, or the cops, Jim had no way of knowing. He shuffled his way over to the door and threw it open. The tall, very serious looking man who stood on the other side did not seem particularly impressed by Jim’s bare feet, low hung sweatpants or his bleary-eyed glare.

“Kirk!” Sulu grinned and pushed past Jim into the apartment, ignoring the grunt of protest. Tall and grim followed him, eyeing the tiny studio with distaste. “Thanks for helping me out, man. I really appreciate it. This is Spock. Works for the big boss. He’s just here to make sure I didn’t run off with the goods, ya know?”

Spock looked like he was trying very hard not to roll his eyes.

“I’m sure Mister Kirk does not particularly care about the semantics.” Spock turned to Jim, ignoring the face Sulu pulled. “I trust that you have what we came for. I would appreciate it if you returned it with as little fuss as possible.”

Jim held up his hands defensively.

“You can have it. I don’t want anything to do with this shit, thanks.” He lead Spock over to the closet and dropped to his knees to pry the floorboard up. That was about the time a burst of pain spread over his skull and the world went black.

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Jim woke up to strong hands running over a very sore lump on the side of his head. He groaned and tried to turn away from it, but the hands pulled him back into place.

“Hold still, kid. Spock knocked you good.” The gravelly southern drawl was pitched low enough to put Jim at ease, despite his spinning head. “Let the drugs wear off, he didn’t give you too much.” Slowly, the world started to right itself, and he could make sense of the unfamiliar space around him.

They were in a sterile-looking room with hard linoleum floors, a cot, and what looked like a well-stocked cabinet of medical supplies. Spock was standing near the door with hands behind his back and looking just as disinterested as he did at Jim’s apartment.

“The hell, man?!” Jim ignored the exasperated sigh coming from his right side. “I was giving you the drugs. Why the hell did you knock me out?”

Spock pursed his lips in what Jim could only assume was irritation. The response came in the same southern voice that had calmed Jim moments before.

“Sulu doesn’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to leaving product with people. Spock probably thought it would be best to bring you here so that we didn’t risk you trying to interfere with any future deliveries. “ Jim finally turned to look at the man who had been prodding at his head for the last few minutes. The face that came into view was just plain unfair.

The doctor had a strong face with a slightly crooked nose, a stubborn mouth, and some of the softest eyes Jim had ever seen. It was hard to recognize the kindness in them under the scowl that Jim could already tell was a permanent fixture on the man’s face, but they were a healer’s eyes. He swallowed hard, uncomfortable under the intense gaze.

“So what are you going to do with me now?”

“You’ll have to talk to Christine about that. I’m just here to make sure the knock to the head isn’t going to kill you.” The doctor stepped back and motioned for Jim to get up. “Follow Spock.”

Wincing at the throbbing in his head that any movement caused, Jim got to his feet and followed Spock out of the room. He glanced around him as Spock lead him through narrow hallways and one expansive living room. The building was obviously an old house. It was large by anyone’s terms from what Jim could tell and, judging by the various people they passed, was probably the center for the Federation’s business.

At the far end of the living room there was a large oak door. Spock knocked neatly on it three times before a woman’s low voice invited them in.

“This is the young man Mister Sulu left the product with last night.” Spock gestured to Jim. It was becoming very obvious that nothing Spock did was unplanned. All of his movements were sharp, timed, thought-out. The energy just barely contained in his rigid posture set Jim on edge. This man could kill. Easily.

“Thank you Mister Spock. I’ll take him from here.”

The woman behind the large rosewood desk was dressed smartly in a white button up shirt, her hair piled on her head in a complicated looking bun. Jim couldn’t tell if she was wearing makeup, but he had a feeling that was more to do with the piercingly blue eyes than anything else. Authority rolled off of her like a perfume.

“Please,” she said, gesturing to a chair in front of the desk, “sit down. What’s your name?”
“Jim.” He shifted nervously in his seat. The chair was plush and comfortable, but he couldn’t rest with Christine’s eyes watching him.

“Just Jim?”

“Kirk. Jim Kirk.” He blamed the truthful answer on his aching head. He should have lied. This group would know that name.

Christine watched him quietly for a long moment, her eyes roving over his face curiously.

“Any relation to George Kirk?”

“Yeah, by an accident of birth.” Jim rubbed the back of his neck with a wince. His head was pounding, making it hard to concentrate. This was not how he should be talking to someone who obviously held power in The Federation. “Please don’t kill me. I’m not a cop. I’ve been arrested too many times to be a cop.”

Surprisingly, Christine gave him a wry smile. She leaned forward, placing her folded hands on the desk.

“Mister Kirk, I don’t kill the children of city heroes. The kind of attention that comes with that is bad for business.” Pushing to her feet she walked around to the other side of the desk, leaning back against it and crossing her arms over her chest. She looked down at Jim. “I do, however, have to address the matter that you were holding our product. Sulu gave it to you, I don’t doubt that. Yet, I can’t help but worry that you might interfere with future transactions.”

Jim shook his head slowly, trying not to make the ache worse.

“I don’t want anything to do with drugs, or the mob. Just let me go and I’ll forget everything, I swear.” He didn’t think it would be too much of a problem with how much his head hurt right now.

“I’d love to, but Sulu is a creature of habit. You helped him once; he’ll ask you again. How long until you get tired of it and fuck up one of my sales? This might have seemed small to you, but the client Sulu was supposed to get that to is very important. Not a man I want to piss off.”

Jim groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew what was coming before it was said. “So, I think the best option is for you to start working for us, Mister Kirk.”

“I’m a cop’s kid.” He pointed out helplessly, hoping the reminder might just convince her to let him go. She just raised an eyebrow. Jim briefly thought she might be able to smell a last ditch effort.

“A dead cop’s kid. With more than a few arrests that are publically known. You’re legal, fit, and obviously have some kind of self preservation hiding deep down or you would have been locked away some time ago.” She tapped her fingers against the edge of the desk thoughtfully. “You don’t have to run drugs. For now you’ll be an errand boy, until we find a better place for you.”

Jim sighed and slumped back into the comfortable chair.

“I don’t really get a choice do I?”

Christine smiled cheerily.

“Nope.”

 

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Sulu grinned at Jim when he walked out of Christine’s office. Jim fought the urge to deck him.

“I already picked up all your stuff and brought it over. I’ll show you your new room.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Oh come on, man. There are worse gigs.”

Jim glared at the other man and rubbed his temples.

“Bones not fix you up?”

“Who?”

“The doc. Bones. Looks like you personally kicked his favorite dog? Spock didn’t take you to the doc?”

Jim grunted unhappily. Sulu had always been a fast talker and right now it was making Jim’s head pound.

“He did. Made sure I wasn’t going to die and kicked me out.”

Sulu looked ready to ask something. Jim cut him off and started up the stairs.

“So, how’d a woman get to be a mob boss?” The Federation wasn’t exactly known for being all inclusive as far as Jim could remember. Organized crime tended to be a boy’s club too. He was curious how the woman ended up in power.

“Who, Chapel?” Sulu lead Jim back through the narrow hallway that had the medical room in it. He pulled open the door on the opposite end from the living room, revealing a smaller den-like area that had a wide set of stairs leading up to another hallway. “She’s not the boss. She’s his second. Pretty much if you want something from McCoy, you go through Chapel.”

“So McCoy is the boss?”

“Yeah. Never met him though. Sometimes I think it’s just a front and Chapel runs the whole thing.” Sulu stopped in front of the last door before the end of the hallway.  “But sometimes she comes to tell us to do something, and it’s obvious she’s completely pissed about the decision.” Sulu threw the door open, letting it slam against the wall, much to Jim’s displeasure. “Welcome home!”

The room was surprisingly spacious. Jim’s bed and dresser sat neatly in one corner of the room, his various other things piled in another. They had cleaned out his apartment for him in a matter of hours. That, more than anything, convinced Jim that he’d lost his choice about working for the mob as soon as Sulu had shoved half a pound of cocaine into his hands.

Sulu clapped him on the back and gave him another grin.

“Someone will be up to give you the rundown soon.”

Jim stared at Sulu’s back as the other man trotted off, down the stairs and out of sight. He let out a long groan.

“Fuck. Me.”

 

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The doctor was the one to give Jim a rundown. He did it as he checked Jim’s head again, seemingly oblivious to how he was making Jim squirm with each poke at the tender area.

“You’ll get an assignment from Spock or Uhura. You do the assignment, you come back here. You get hurt, you come back to me. You don’t go to the hospital. There isn’t anything they can do for you there that I can’t do for you here.” He tsked when Jim jerked away from his touch. “Don’t be such an infant.”

“It hurts!”

Bones rolled his eyes and Jim stuck his tongue out at him. The come back made the doctor pause, eyebrow raised. He was fighting back a smile.
“Did you really just stick your tongue out at me? What are you? Seven? You work for the mob now, kid. Start acting like it.”

Jim wrinkled his nose at the man and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m 12, I’ll have you know.” To his surprise, Bones laughed. It was a free and easy kind of sound that sent sparks of warmth off in Jim’s chest. He wanted to hear it again. “Why do they call you Bones?”

“Because Uhura has an odd sense of humour and a life-long love for antiquated terms.” Bones was looking over something in the cabinets, squinting at a box label. He looked back just in time to see Jim’s face light up in recognition.

“Sawbones!” Jim grinned at the chuckle the exclamation drew from the doctor.

“Yes. Sawbones.” He handed Jim a packet of pills. “There, that should help your headache. Now get out of my office.”

Jim hopped off the cot and started out.

“Jim, if you have any questions. Feel free to come ask. I wouldn’t mind seeing your face around a little more.”

Jim gave Bones a slow smirk over his shoulder before nodding and heading out the door.

Apparently Jim wasn’t the only person distracted by a pretty smile.

 

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Over the new few months, Jim found himself settling into the life more easily than he had settled into anything. He had a place that was his own, but people around him that were constantly available for anything from a drink to a heartfelt chat. It felt like a home.

And for a few people it was.

Sulu was the main runner, so he got a room. He and Jim were usually the ones driving people places, delivering packages, and bringing stuff in.

Scotty was the logistics guy. He was in the room next to Jim’s. The one Jim had been worried was burning for nearly a week straight due to all the smoke coming out from underneath. Bones had assured him that Scotty just tinkered with a few things here and there in his spare time and would never actually burn the house down. Though the exact words were a little less collected. (Fuck if I know what that madman is doing with all his electronics in there. He hasn’t burned the house down in the six years he’s been here, though. So it only keeps me up part of the night instead of all night.)

Spock was--

Okay well, Jim wasn’t exactly sure what Spock was. But he was in the room right across from Jim and seemed to be important. He always carried a gun and never smiled. Jim was pretty sure the man was the Federation’s assassin, but he wasn’t going to risk asking. They got along pretty well and Jim really liked that Spock would play chess with him, so he didn’t want to push too much.

Uhura was the communications expert. She dealt with all of their clients personally (unless they were very important, such as another family boss. Those were sent to McCoy.) She was like the older sister Jim hadn’t known he wanted. All it took was one well-placed kick to the shin and Uhura could communicate all levels of irritation and fondness at once. Jim marveled at her, and she seemed to put up with him like she was indulging a puppy.

Chekov was the tech guy and more of a puppy than Jim had ever been. He got so excited telling Jim, Sulu, and even Spock about the ways he had managed to work around security systems that he would often slip back into Russian. Sometimes it took Jim two minutes to realize that Chekov was actually speaking a different language, and not just talking so fast that Jim couldn’t understand him. The kid was so cute that Jim had thought about trying to get him into a dark closet a few times, except he was only 17, and Scotty was fiercely protective of him.

So most nights, Jim spent time with his right hand and the thought of Bones’ hands in its place.

Bones. Bones was who Jim had become the closest to during his time there. The doctor who was quick to anger, but fast to forgive. He showed his compassion through insults that were belied by gentle hands on aching skin. Bones was the most fascinatingly sweet, grumpy, and perceptive person Jim had ever met. He ended up spending more than half of his spare time in the small medical room that Bones called his office. And while Bones would gripe and complain about Jim never leaving him alone, he never outright told Jim to get out either.

Four months after arriving there, Jim realized--much to his horror--that he was falling hard and fast for a man whose real name he didn’t even know. After seven months, he didn’t really care about the name anymore. Bones was still Bones.

And Jim had it bad.

 

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Eight months after arriving, Jim got caught on the dangerous side of the business. He and Spock had been running a package of rather illegal firearms to a client when a few well-placed shots blew out the car windows. Spock yelled in pain and Jim jerked the steering wheel, slamming his foot down on the break.

“No! Keep driving. Just keep going and get us back to the house.” Spock was obviously gritting his teeth, but Jim figured it was a good sign that he could speak at all. He jerked the wheel again and peeled out. They got back to the house in five minutes flat, and Jim was already helping a heavily bleeding Spock to the door when Chapel came running out.

“I heard gunfire warnings over the scanner. Did you make the drop?”

Jim glared at her, face screwed up in anger.

“Spock got shot, Christine! I can make the fucking drop with Uhura after he gets patched up, don’t you think?”

Chapel’s eyes narrowed, but she went to Spock’s other side to help him to the medical room. Bones was already laying out everything he would need to dig the bullet out of Spock’s side. They had barely gotten the man settled onto the bed before Chapel had Jim’s arm in a vice like grip and was dragging him from the room.

Her eyes were ice cold when she turned on him.

“I understand that you’re upset about Spock getting hurt. But if you ever  talk to me like that again, I will bury you so deep that no one will ever know George Kirk had a son. Not making that drop could get more than one of my people killed. I’m not risking that just because of a few bullet holes.”

Jim swallowed hard and nodded stiffly.

“Do you understand me, Kirk?”

“Yes.”

“Good, because while Spock is recovering, you’re in charge of his business. You oversee the runs, you make sure they happen on time, and you keep the runners in line. Got it?”

“Yes.”

With a curt nod Chapel let go of Jim’s arm, turned on her heel and walked back into the medical room. Jim knew a dismissal when he saw one and headed out to grab Sulu.

He had a drop to make.

 

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Two days later, Jim was well and settled managing the runners. Most of them knew him already and the last eight months of working with Spock had given him a good idea of how things worked. The transition of authority went off without a hitch, much to Chapel’s approval. Apparently it also met McCoy’s approval, not that Jim found that out from him personally. He’d been working there almost a year and he’d never met the man.

Bones was waiting for Jim outside the meeting room that all the runners got their orders in. The doctor had his arms folded across his chest and a small smile that made Jim think he might be impressed.

“You seem to be right at home.”

“Yeah well, apparently I know how to keep people like me in line.” Jim shrugged, but he was smiling widely. The runners were mostly little shits with adrenaline issues. Jim knew the type. Just like him, most of the people making the runs were willing to let the legality of their work slide as long as they felt it was worth their time. “What’s up, Bones?”

“Just checked up on Spock. He’s going to be out for a few months, so get cozy in your position. It’s yours for a while.”

Jim swore under his breath. He liked the position, but Spock being hurt could lead a lot of complications. Jim had learned that he did more than manage the runners. He took direct orders from McCoy about how to handle certain runs and transactions. Spock even went with Uhura to certain higher powers to talk business. Jim couldn’t do that without the right kind of training, and if Spock was unavailable, he’d have to learn fast.

“You’ll be fine, kid.” Bones bumped his shoulder into Jim’s softly. “You got a free minute?”

“Yeah, sure. What do you need?”

“I need to show you something. Lets use your room though. Don’t need anyone else seein’ it.” Bones started off towards the den that was the main family’s common area. They often would spend more time there than in, since the living room was heavily trafficked because of its attachment to the office.

Jim spent the few minutes it took to get to his room admiring Bones’ ass. The doctor hadn’t become any less appealing in the months that had passed since Jim realized how much deeper his feelings were beginning to run. He’d been less open about flirting with him though, just in case Bones started to think it was more than play.

He flopped down onto his bed and looked over at the doctor.

“So, what’s up?”

Before Jim could stop him, Bones was on the bed, straddling Jim’s waist and burying his fingers in the blond’s hair. He tugged Jim’s head back sharply and claimed his lips with a brutal kiss. Jim choked in surprise and twisted his fingers into Bones’ shirt. The doctor pulled away with a sharp nip to Jim’s bottom lip.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Jim licked his lips, trying to get past the daze of being kissed so suddenly. “But what brought this on?”

Bones growled and placed another bite just under Jim’s jaw.

“I don’t like the idea of you gettin’ shot at.”

“If getting shot at makes you do this, I think I like the idea very much.”

Bones gave Jim’s hair another sharp tug and kissed him again. Jim groaned against the other man’s mouth and tried to pull him even closer.

“You talk a lot, Jim.” The words were probably supposed to sound scathing, but Bones’ tone was nothing but fond. “Maybe you should start saying something instead.”

“You know what they say, Bones.” Jim smirked against the other man’s lips. “Actions speak louder than words.”

Bones chuckled lowly and drew Jim’s bottom lip into his mouth, sucking slowly and dragging his teeth against it.

“Actions, huh?” He slid his hands down Jim’s chest, stopping only when he reached the top of his pants. “Exactly what kind of actions are you expectin’?” Bones dragged his fingertips down Jim’s zipper, barely applying any pressure.

“Well,” Jim swallowed hard, eyes following the trail of Bones’ fingers, “you did say that you were gonna show me something. So far I’ve only heard a lot of chit chat.”

With a smirk Bones palmed Jim and leaned back in to bite at Jim’s neck, just above the collar of his shirt. Jim choked back a moan, gripping  hard at Bones’ thigh. They had never so much as kissed before and here he was with Bones’ hand squeezing his dick through his jeans. The doctor had always been very straightforward with what he wanted. He didn’t mince words and he certainly wasn’t being shy about showing Jim what he had in mind. However, being straightforward didn’t mean that Bones rushed. He never rushed.

“Come on, Bones. Don’t tease.” Jim panted shallowly into Bones’ neck, rolling his hips up into the man’s hand. “You wanted to show me, so show me.”

“I could, but I don’t know.” He looked down at his own hands thoughtfully, running them over the inside of Jim’s thighs and up over his hips. “I kind of like seeing you all worked up for me.” Jim could almost hear his jaw crack with how hard he was clenching his teeth.

“Bones, I swear to god, if you don’t touch me--”

“You’ll what?” Bones arched an eyebrow at the man below him. “Come in your pants like a teenager? Because I have to be honest with you, Jim, I’d kind of like to see that.”

Jim groaned and grabbed for Bones’ wrist, just missing it when Bones pulled his hand away with a smirk.

“Nope.” He wrapped his fingers around Jim’s hip again, stroking at the patch of skin that had been exposed when Jim’s shirt rode up. “I think I’ll keep you just like this.” He leaned down and nipped at the hollow of Jim’s neck. “I like seeing you writhing under me, frustrated, hard, and wanting. Best thing I’ve seen in a long time, Jimmy.”

His sharp intake of breath made Bones’ smirk, but Jim couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed. Bones’ hands were skirting around his fly and it was making his vision go hazy around the edges. He couldn’t bite back a moan when he felt Bones finally draw down the zipper and yank Jim’s jeans and boxers down to his thighs.

“Get tired of teasing?”

Bones scoffed and kissed up Jim’s neck to suck roughly just below his ear. “Why, Darlin’? Don’t think you’ll last?”

“With the way this is going? No I don’t think I will.” Jim licked his lips and looked down to see Bones’ hand hovering just above his dick. “You always this dominating?”

“Comes with the job.”

“Didn’t think doctors  would have a thing for power trips.” Jim gasped breathlessly when Bones finally slid his fingers around Jim’s shaft. He whimpered softly and Bones just chuckled into his neck.

“You’d be surprised.” Worrying the tender skin of Jim’s neck between his teeth, Bones stroked Jim slowly, ignoring the blond’s whining for more. He grinned when he felt Jim’s hands run through his hair only to stop on his shoulders. He rolled his eyes when he felt Jim try to tug him down to get Bone’s mouth closer to his cock. “You’re an impatient little shit, you know that?” He moved down to settle between Jim’s legs, pressing a wet kiss to the inside of his thigh. “How’re  you ever supposed to manage the runners if you can’t even wait for a blow job?”

“The runners aren’t giving me blow jobs, so I’m not that worried.” Jim groaned and bucked up into Bones’ loose grip. “Come on, Bones. Please?”

Bones shook his head, peppering kisses up the inside and along the crease of Jim’s thigh.

“I’m thinking that maybe you should be the one with a dick in your mouth. You’re still talking an awful lot, kid.” He nuzzled into the crook of Jim’s hip and looked up at him expectantly. “You going to shut up?”

Jim swallowed hard and dug his fingers into Bones’ shoulders.

“You might have to gag me.”

Bones grinned wickedly and trailed his tongue up Jim’s shaft and over his head.

“Maybe next time.”

After that all Jim could focus on was tight, wet heat, and Bones grinding into his thigh.

 

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It had been over a year since Jim had joined the Family and he had yet to see Leonard McCoy’s face. He understood that there were many people who had worked for the man a lot longer and they hadn’t seen hide nor hair or the man either. Yet, Jim couldn’t shake the feeling that his position had earned him that particular knowledge.

He’d been working in Spock’s place for nearly 5 months. Things had been running just as smoothly as they did under the stoic man’s hand and Jim was well-liked by his runners. Even Chapel, who had been a bit colder towards him since the shooting, had commended him for his hard work. A fact that he felt was firmly in his favor, despite the amused shake of Bones’ head.

“It doesn't work like that, Jim. McCoy keeps his profile low on purpose. The people he sees personally are the part of his inner circle the he knows he can trust his life with. The man ain’t the CEO of a software company. He’s a mob boss of a very large network.” Bones smoothed his hands over a dark bruise on Jim’s arm. The last run had had a hitch or two, but nothing Jim hadn’t been able to handle, but Bones still touched Jim almost reverently, smiling at the man softly.

“I’m running the largest part of his ‘business’ right now. I feel like that should mean something.” Jim scowled at the wall of the medical room, shifting to glare at Bones when he laughed at him.

“You were essentially pulled off the street after saying--several times, might I add--that you wanted nothing t’do with us. You’re also the well-known kid of a hero. One who died fighting exactly what we’re doing.” Bones sat back and looked Jim over. He wouldn’t meet Bones’eyes. “I know you don’t like that people bring your dad into it, Jim, but he took down Nero’s network with the kind of ruthless efficiency the Family is afraid of. He was a very good man. We aren’t.”

“You are,” Jim said softly. “You’re the healer, Bones. You don’t go out there and trade drugs or weapons or anything like that. You just fix us when we come back broken.”

Bones scoffed lightly and busied himself with cleaning up the cream he’d been putting on Jim’s arm.

“I’m no saint, kid. I do fix up criminals after all.” He placed a soft kiss on Jim’s shoulder. “Now go rest up. I heard you got a big drop tomorrow.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Jim groaned and hopped off the cot. “It’s big, but it’s going to be boring as hell.”

 

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Jim was used to getting beat up from this or that during the job--he’d been working with the Family long enough that it was expected--but he was really hoping he wouldn’t have to get used to waking up to a throbbing headache after being knocked out by the butt of a gun.

With a groan he let his head loll back on his shoulders.

“The fuck do you people have about using guns as clubs?”

“We could just shoot you.”

With some effort, Jim managed to pry his eyes open to look at the speaker. He was a tall man, dark haired, and with a severe face. Khan. One of McCoy’s...less amiable business associates. The Empire tended to work in what Chapel called the “less savory” side of the business. What it really boiled down to was that McCoy refused to traffick humans and Khan had his panties in a bunch over it.

Jim hissed as his head gave another particularly vicious throb.

“If you want to shoot me you would have done it already. You’re either saving that for something special or you won’t do it at all.” Slowly he took note of his situation. Tied to a chair, the knots on his hands well-tied and impossible to escape. “Where’s Sulu?”

Khan smirked.

“The mouthy little Asian? Don’t worry. We sent him home.” Khan was leaning against the wall casually. They were in a bare room, the only things in it were the chair Jim was tied to and a security camera mounted on the ceiling.  Jim felt his stomach drop out.

“How many bullets did you put him first?”

“Not even one. Didn’t harm a hair on his foul little head.” Khan licked his lips absently. “I felt it wouldn’t keep you open to talking to me if I killed the little bastard.”

“I don’t really want to talk to you anyway.” Jim rolled his shoulders the best he could, trying to fight off the stiffness that was already working its way up his arms. “Why am I here?”

“Because you’re good, Kirk. Very good. And I want you working for me.”

Jim blinked slowly, not bothering to hide his confusion. Khan’s mouth split into a smarmy smile.

“You’ve been working for McCoy for less than a year, and already you’re running big business. I could use a man like you.”

“Well, there’s only one of me so you’re kind of shit out of luck.” Jim winced at his own words. Apparently head injuries turned off his brain to mouth filter.

“Oh come now,” Khan pushed off the wall and moved into Jim’s space. “It’s not like you have reason to stay there. Have you ever seen McCoy’s face?”

Jim’s lips tightened into a thin line. It seemed to be all the answer Khan needed.

“Never even met the man you work for. How are you supposed to trust him? What if you have to kill for him one day?” Khan moved in closer, standing just a few inches in front of Jim. “For all you know, he could be Nero. Never caught the bastard, did they? You could do great things with me, Kirk.”

Jim’s jaw clenched. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew Khan was right. He had no reason to trust Leonard McCoy.  

However, he did trust Christine. He trusted Spock, Uhura, and Scotty. He didn’t really trust Chekov, but that was more concern over the kid’s own safety than Jim’s. He trusted Sulu with his life, if not his cell phone. They were his family. They had taken him in and given him a home when he had nothing. It had taken a matter of days for them to look past “the hero’s kid” and see someone worthwhile. They shared their home, their food, their laughter with him. They trusted him as much as they trusted Bones.

Bones.

He thought of Bones’ steady, careworn hands that had so carefully stitched him up a dozen times over the year. The scowl that never quite reached the doctor’s warm eyes. Jim’s chest ached when he thought of the deep chuckling laughter and bright smile that put lines at the corners of Bones’ mouth.

Jim didn’t care about the Family, he really didn’t, but he loved his family. He loved the way they comforted him, reassured him, and made fun of him. He loved watching Spock and Uhura acting like parents. He adored Chapel’s terrible jokes and Scotty’s great booze. He wanted to play video games with Sulu while Chekov tried to give them cheats. He needed Bones’ understanding words and gentle touches.  

“What do you say, Kirk?” Khan bent down, putting his face just two inches in front of Jim’s. “Ready to get to work?”

Jim sneered.

“Why are you talking to me, man?”

With a sigh Khan stepped back and reached behind himself to pull out a gun. He looked disappointed.

“I was hoping you’d be more than just a warning for McCoy. What a waste.”

Before Jim could fully register what was about to happen, searing pain wracked through his body and for the third time in just over a year, his world went black.

 

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Lights swam in and out of Jim’s vision. He tried to cling to the little specks of consciousness, but it was too difficult with all the noise. There was so much noise. The roaring of his own blood pounding in his ears combined with the sound of people trying to talk to him through water.

He was drowning.

He was drowning and it burned like he was on fire.

It wasn’t until he felt rough but soothing hands on his face, on his neck, on his chest, over his fingers, that he began to let the darkness overtake him. Those were Bones’ hands. Bones would always keep him safe.

“Just hang on, Darlin’. I just need you to hang on, Jim. You’re too stubborn to die.”

Jim tried to assure Bones he wasn’t going anywhere, but he wasn’t sure he could remember where his mouth was. Instead he squeezed the hand that clasped his own.

“Just hold on, Jim. I’m not done with you yet.”

Jim thought he might have been able to say “good”, but he had a feeling he didn’t because Bones was kissing him softly.

Jim fell back into the black thinking about how much he wanted to kiss the worry out of Bones’ voice.

“Just hold on.”

 

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Thinking back, Jim thought that maybe, just maybe, the pain from getting hit over the head wasn’t so bad. It was certainly much, much less painful than the throbbing, aching, burning pain in his chest. With a low groan Jim pried his eyes open slowly, testing to see if even that small movement would up his pain.

When it didn’t, he risked looking around the room. The cream colored walls of medical room loomed over him. A wash of relief came over him. He wasn’t stuck in a dark alley while Khan waited for him to bleed out.

He was home.

“Ah, you’re awake. How’s the pain?”

It took Jim a few long moments to realize that the voice speaking wasn’t the one he had expected. It was deep like Bones’, but lacked the drawling accent and the annoyed fondness. The man speaking was dark-skinned and had a softer, kinder face than Bones did. His lips were a relaxed smile and his eyes were genuinely curious. Jim cleared his throat and tried to speak.

“Fuckin’ awful.” His throat scrapped unpleasantly with the words. He sounded like he hadn’t spoken in weeks.

“Well, at least it means you’re alive.” The other man fiddled with Jim’s IV and within a few minutes the pain dulled a fraction. “Most people don’t survive being shot in the chest and shipped back to their boss’s office as a warning. You’re lucky you were only out for a week.”

Jim looked around groggily.

“Where’s Bones?”

“He’s working out a few wrinkles left over from Khan’s little power display. I’m Geoff M’Benga. He called in a favor for me to look after you once he got that bullet out of your chest.” M’Benga pursed his lips thoughtfully. “That man has dug more bullets out of people than I can count, but I’ve never seen him look that wrecked. You must be something special.”

Jim swallowed hard.

“I hope so.” The drugs were starting to make his head fuzzy. “I kind of love him. A lot.”

Jim tried to make sense of the startled look on M’Benga’s face, but he blinked too slowly and fell asleep.

 

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Three weeks.

Three fucking weeks and Jim could barely walk by himself, let alone do anything productive. It was driving him crazy. Luckily, he had his family to keep him occupied. While they were busy trying to pick up the slack everyone took some time to keep Jim occupied, knowing that he couldn’t just rest and do nothing. He and Spock played chess and chatted about nothing in particular when Spock wasn’t keeping the runners in line. Uhura brought food and kept him updated. Scotty brought him things to fiddle with. Sulu (unharmed, thank God) played video games with him. Chekov brought him books. Chapel brought him the worst movies she could think of. sometimes she’d even stay to watch.

The only person who hadn’t come by was Bones. Not even once in the three weeks.

Three. fucking. weeks.

Jim was furious, he was hurt, and his patience was hanging by a thread. Three weeks was enough to make him want to pull his hair out.

Instead he decided to take his problems to Chapel, the one person he could trust to use her cutting words to knock sense into him instead of trying to reason with him. He charged into her office without bothering to knock. It took nearly 30 seconds of staring in silence for Jim’s brain to catch up with what he was seeing.

For the first time in over a year, Jim remembered that the large office behind the heavy oak doors in the library did not actually belong to Christine Chapel.

It belonged to Leonard McCoy.

A man with a strong face and a slightly crooked nose above his stubborn mouth. He had some of the softest eyes Jim had ever seen, as long as one could look past the scowl. A scowl that was currently settled on Jim.

Jim’s heart stuttered painfully in his chest. His head reeled as he tried to make sense of Bones--his Bones--sitting behind the expansive desk that belonged to Leonard McCoy. He felt sick.

“Jim, I’m sure you know Captain Pike?”

Jim swallowed hard and looked over at the man sitting across from Bones. McCoy. Sitting across from McCoy.

Captain Pike. A man who had done his damnedest to put Jim on the straight and narrow when it became obvious he would never be like his father. Pike had worked with George Kirk for years. He’d been the one to look after the family and he’d been the closest thing to a dad Jim had.

“Hi, Chris.”

The captain’s face was an odd mixture of disappointment and understanding. It was like he wished Jim hadn’t ended up here, but he hadn’t really expected anything else.

“Jimmy. Glad to see McCoy here is taking care of you.”

Suddenly Jim realized he had just interrupted a meeting between the local Police Captain and one of the city’s most powerful crime bosses.

“I uh,” he struggled to find the words, shock still sitting deep in his chest. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll just..come back..later.” Jim stumbled out of the room and back to his bedroom, wondering when his chest had started aching. This hurt so much worse than the bullet wound. It hurt so much deeper.

 

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Bones knocked on the frame of Jim’s door a few hours later. Jim ignored it, squeezing his eyes shut when he heard Bones sigh.

“We need to talk, Jim.”

“You’ve done a lot of talking. Maybe you should try saying something instead.” Jim swallowed hard, but didn’t turn around or open his eyes. He didn’t want to talk, but at the same time all he wanted was to hear Bones’ voice. He felt like an idiot.

The door clicked shut softly and Jim let out a sigh of relief. It was easier to breath with Bones out of the room. No. With McCoy out of the room.

He nearly had a heart attack when the bed dipped. Bones laid next to him, pressing his body against Jim’s and wrapping an arm around the his chest.

“I’m not going to make any excuses. I didn’t have enough reason to trust you to want to work for me, so I kept to myself like the paranoid bastard I am. You not joining up with Khan was my reason to know I could trust you when I’m your boss, not just when I’m your lover.” Jim didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pull away either. “You could have figured out another way to do it though.”

Jim scoffed. “Was I being too dramatic for you?”

“You know how I feel about you gettin’ shot at, Darlin’.” That startled a laugh out of Jim, but only for a second.

“Why the hell are you playing doctor?”

He felt Bones huff a laugh against the back of his neck. Jim pressed closer to the other man’s chest. He was pissed, but he had missed seeing Bones. And this was Bones. Not McCoy. McCoy had never held Jim or called him Darlin’. Jim had only met McCoy a few hours ago. He’d known Bones for over a year.

“Lets me get to know my people without having to worry about them gettin’ shy around the boss.” Bones pressed his nose into Jim’s shoulder, placing a soft kiss there. “Christine works the front office while I manage the people in my own way. It works for me. My network is more tight-knit than most because my people are honest with me.”

“Might be nice if you returned the favor.” Jim couldn’t keep the bitter note out of his voice.

“That’s the nice thing about being the boss, kid. I don’t have to be nice.” Bones stroked his fingers over Jim’s chest absently. Jim hated that knew that the caress meant Bones was thinking. “If someone knows I’m their boss, or even worse, The Boss, they walk on eggshells around me. If I’m the grumpy doctor, they know that hiding things from me is only going to hurt them in the long run. I run my network this way because the more I know about my people, the better equipped I am to put them in the right kind of positions. It’s why my network is so strong.”

“That sounds like complete bullshit, Bones.”

“I’m not exactly great with words, so sue me.”

With a laugh, Jim turned in Bones’ arms to face him.

“I bet Pike loves you because you’re incapable of beating around the bush.”

Bones scowled at him, but didn’t correct Jim’s statement.

“I didn’t see you for three weeks. I never saw you after I woke up, Bones. The hell was that about?” Jim kept his focus on the other man’s warm eyes. He could feel more than hear Bones’ sigh.

“I was trying to clean up after you were shot.” Bones winced and pressed his forehead to Jim’s. “I also wasn’t sure how I’d react to seeing you again. You were a lot closer to dyin’ than you think, kid.”

They lay together like that for a few minutes, nothing passing between them except their breath and a few absent caresses. Finally, Jim broke the silence.

“So,” Jim said seriously, looking Bones over with his mouth set in a grim line. “Do I get a bonus for blowing the boss?”

A slow smirk spread across Bones’ face.

“Yeah. I’ll actually let you come.”

 

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A month later and Jim was starting to get impatient with how little he could do. It was almost a relief when Uhura told him that Bones wanted to see him in the office. He walked in without knocking. Bones was the only one there this time. Jim took a moment to admire what he had missed when he barged in on Bones and Pike a month earlier.

Bones was wearing a navy suit and crisp gray shirt with the collar unbuttoned. McCoy looked damn good in a suit. He looked even better with that smirk.

“So,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair as his eyes roved over Jim. “I just talked to Pike. Khan’s off the grid as far as anyone can tell. His network has started to fray around the edges and Pike needs someone to pull it in before one of Khan’s lackeys goes rogue and takes matters into his own hands. Nobody wants to deal with that mess, so I’m putting my best man on it.”

“So you killed Khan because you wanted his network?” Jim quirked an eyebrow at the other man. No one had outright said it, but it was common knowledge that Khan had gotten on the wrong side of the Federation and it got him killed. “Stick to being straightforward, Bones. Coy doesn’t suit you.”

Bones’ face had gone deadly serious. Jim still wasn’t used to seeing Bones as McCoy. The intensity of the look made him shift uncomfortably.

“I killed Khan because he was getting too big for his britches. His first and last mistake was touching you.” Bones’ eyes burned with a possessiveness that made Jim shiver. The gravel in his voice went right to Jim’s dick. They needed to get the business out of the way so that he could get Bones out of his suit as soon as possible.

“So, how are you tying up the loose ends?”

“Chapel is going to take over the Empire. Which I’m renaming the Enterprise, because I’m not an egotistical maniac.” Bones rolled his eyes. Chapel had explained that Bones had never had much respect for Khan as it was, but once the boss had put the name of his network out into the air, Bones had stopped taking him seriously all together. “With Chapel running the new side of the network, Spock is going to be taking her place here. Which means I’ll need someone to manage my runners permanently.”

Jim grinned and leaned forward.

“You don’t say?”

Bones nodded.

“What do you think about Sulu?”

Jim’s grin faded so fast that he was a little afraid he might have pulled something in his face.

“That isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

Jim glared when Bones grinned at him, but managed to forgive the other man quickly enough when Bones’ grabbed him by the front of the shirt and hauled him over the desk for a kiss.