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[ST Fic Rec]: "Now Some Saint Got The Job Of Writing Down My Sins" by starkjrs

TITLE: Now Some Saint Got The Job Of Writing Down My Sins
AUTHOR: starkjrs
AUTHOR'S LJ NAME: unkown, author's AO3 & tumblr
FANDOM: Star Trek (AOS)
PAIRING: Kirk/McCoy
OTHER PAIRINGS: none
GENRES: slash, angst, hurt/comfort
WARNINGS: language, spoilery, highlight if you wish to know: *references to child abuse*
CONTAINS: hurt!Jim, worried!Bones, spoilery, highlight if you wish to know: *alcohol, Tarsus IV, bar fights, Bones patching Jim up, panic attacks*
RATING: R
TIME FRAME: early Academy
WORDS: approx 3,418
SUMMARY: In which Jim falls in love with Bones' bed and maybe Bones, too. (Given by the author.)
LINK TO FIC: Now Some Saint Got The Job Of Writing Down My Sins


QUOTE:
The first time it happens, he’s half-drunk and sleep deprived, knocking on a door that might be his but probably isn’t.

“Jesus Christ,” Bones says, and Jim laughs because that doesn’t suit him in the slightest—his hair is much better, even dried with the blood from his temple, and he doesn’t do miracles. “Do you realize what time it is?”

Because it’s three in the morning and he and Bones are something like friends, maybe, and he’s got a few bruises and lacerations on his skin from broken beer bottles, but he’s fine in all the ways it doesn’t matter and Bones is a doctor in all the ways it does. Because it’s three in the morning and Jim is in more pain than he was two minutes ago and the lights are stabbing daggers in the base of his skull, and this was the first place he thought to go to, even if he’s only been here once and he’s not quite sober. So he leans against the doorframe and grins with everything he has, says, “the city never sleeps,” and when Bones replies, “clearly neither do you,” something inside of him snaps and he pushes his way inside.

“Sit on the couch,” Bones snaps out, followed by, “lights, fifty percent.”

“It can wait until morning.”

But this isn’t how it goes and he laughs, laughs until his heart aches with longing; laughs while he flings himself on Bones’ bed and buries his nose in the blankets, laughs until his eyes are wet and everything grows darker and darker. He hears Bones mutter something about a concussion and suddenly he’s eight, falling asleep on the couch with rumbling bones; but this time, this time someone takes care of him, because he can hear the whirr of something like a machine and a pricking sensation in his neck.

“Thanks,” he tries, but it comes out as, “nnks,” and he sleeps to the sound of soft sighing.



WHY I LIKE THAT FIC:
The new Star Trek Beyond trailer got me on a serious hurt!Kirk kick. So, I went through the hurt/comfort tag on AO3 and searched for some nice Bones/Kirk fics. That's how I stumbled across this little treasure. With only three thousand something words I didn't expect anything too deep. Boy, was I wrong. There is so much more if you read between the lines.

It's about Kirk. About his fucked up childhood. How he still struggles with it as an adult. Somehow, Kirk always ends up in a bar fight. Instead of going to his own he always comes to Bones' room whose bed he commandeers.

The fic is beautifully written. Nearly poetic, with a lot of gorgeous, stunning metaphors. The imagery is breathtaking. It creates a profound atmosphere. I love this version of Kirk. So hurting, with so much baggage from his terrible childhood. It became an instant favorite of mine.



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