riverviewlogs | ( open ) there's nothing here to run from

Entry tags:

( open ) there's nothing here to run from

who: Jim Kirk & YOU!
what: open prompts for flood things and monster fighting + sparring later in the month; specific closed prompts as I plot things out with people
when: month of April
where: all around the Quarantine
warnings: possibly some violence and injuries in any monster fighting and sparring threads; NSFW for sex in his thread with Victor

I ▹ FLOOD & DISASTER RELIEF

[ Jim's never been the kind to stay still, even during quiet and peaceful times. So when something goes wrong and people are in danger, it should come as no surprise that he's right in the thick of it.

After his network broadcast warning people of the dangers of getting too close to the rising waters, as well as asking for help in dealing with the damage and other consequences of the flood, he's made sure to set up a perimeter along the river, trying to get people to keep a somewhat safe distance from the waters. Still, it's impossible to make it completely safe or to isolate every single spot along the river, even with a lot of people helping out, and between that and the monsters crawling out of the water, anyone who finds themselves in a tough spot is likely to run into Jim.

Or rather, have him run towards them, possibly yelling out if he spots an oncoming danger, whether that is the rising water level or some wild creature getting a little too close, holding a phaser or a dagger in hand. ] Watch out!

II ▹ RECOVERY & SPARRING

[ Sometimes he likes to think nothing can stop him, if only he's stubborn enough. It usually worked out well back home, and even here when Bones was around, because a dermal regenerator, or some quick advanced surgery in more serious situations, would fix just about anything to perfection.

That's not the case, this time around. During one of the skirmishes with the flood creatures, he was attacked pretty viciously, and now that he's had the injury mostly treated, he's sporting a (yet healing) bite mark covering all around his shoulder and part of his upper arm. It doesn't bleed anymore, and as it heals he doesn't even have to keep it bandaged or wrapped up, but at times when he moves there's just a tinge of discomfort, a dull ache that makes him hiss.

Sometimes he's just sitting at work, pressing against the wound over his clothes, trying to ease the sore muscles. Ignoring it doesn't always work, but boy does he try.

A little later in the month, though, he gets more frustrated, and more intent on working through the mild pain and discomfort. For anyone who's a regular around the Perimeter Guard, Jim can be easily found around the training facilities, warming up on some gym equipment, or practicing a few simple moves on his own on a training mat.

What's left of his wound, as well as some bruising on the skin around it, is visible when he's only wearing a tank top, though he doesn't seem to pay it much mind, or tries not to anyway. If he spots anyone lingering around the area he'll look up and promptly ask— ] Wanna join in?

III ▹ WILCARD

[ Want to run into Jim elsewhere? Go right ahead! Also, if you'd like a prompt more specific to your character, feel free to ping me @

extreminator and I'll write one up for you! ♥ ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jim winced and shifted on the bed once Victor pulled out of him, and he promptly settled comfortably next to him. He smiled and chuckled at Victor's words, fingertips playing up his side and arm, thumb brushing across his jaw.

"Good," he grinned lazily, turning his head and pressing his lips to Victor's forehead. "I've been feeling so terrible, I think I might just need it."

The hum of energy between them was a comfort now. He'd noticed its absence and he was not really wanting to feel it again. No, he wanted James to stay as long as possible. His grip on the man tightened a little on this thought, as if that would be enough to hold onto the captain.

He let out a content sigh, closing his eyes briefly at the kiss. Even gestures that small warmed him up inside. "I need it, too," he confessed softly.

And Jim would gladly stay, but it wasn't just the two of them, so it wasn't that simple. Not the way Jim saw it, anyway. For now he tried not to think about that, though. About going back to his flat once the flood passed and he was feeling better, or about packing up all the things he'd brought over that had slowly taken up a corner of Victor's closet. For now he just wanted to enjoy the present, nothing else.

"Glad to hear," he spoke with a smile. His fingertips traveled all the way up to Victor's hair, playing with the bleached tips. "Decided on what you're doing with it yet? Your hair."

Victor doubted he was being subtle about leaving spaces for James to fill all over the house: in the bedroom, the bathroom, book shelves in the living room. However long this lasted, he wanted to make it clear he wanted James to fill in those spaces with his things. Leaving stuff behind meant you had to come back for it. Optimism, Victor reminded himself.

His lip twitched a bit at the fingers in his hair. "I'm a little tired of looking like Billy Idol," he admitted. "I buzzed it once," he recalled, "when Henry was a baby. It's tempting to do that now. I'd miss this, though. You've really gotten me into having my hair played with and pulled."

Jim couldn't keep back a laugh at that, head tipping back a little. "Mm, you probably looked hot," he mumbled. He was absolutely biased, though, so there was that.

"You know, there is another alternative, if you don't wanna cut it off," he leaned away a bit so he could look at Victor. He did like the longer hair, he'd be the first to admit, but he also wouldn't impose on Victor. Whatever he wanted to do, Jim would love it all the same. "You could just dye it to your natural hair color. Better than cutting off the bleached tips and having to wait for it to grow back."

"I definitely did," Victor assured him, though there were no pictures to prove it one way or the other.

"Maybe," he mused. Lucky that hair dye was labeled with what the color was supposed to be. "Want to help me dye it?" Victor could do it himself, and obviously had when he bleached it in the first place, but like he would really pass up the chance to have James's fingers in his hair.

"Gosh, and so modest too. I really hit the jackpot," he snorted, teasing Victor more than anything. As if Jim could talk when it came to lack of modesty, really.

His eyebrows rose a little, surprised by Victor's question. "Sure, I'd love it. We can find a nice color for you," he smiled, running his fingers through Victor's hair. "I actually kept my hair really short for a long while, myself."

"I don't know, I think you beat me in modesty, geliebte, Victor teased right back. His eyes twinkled at the other man.

"That must have been traumatic." He gave a fond brush through James's hair. "You don't have to go through so much effort with yourself, you know. I promise I'll still have a hard time keeping my eyes off you."

He chuckled at the quip, poking at Victor's side playfully. He wasn't wrong, though, so Jim couldn't say much.

"Oh, not really. I liked it that way. I didn't know if longer hair would look good on me, turns out I was wrong," he shrugged, tilting his head as Victor's fingers brushed through his hair. "Yeah, I know. And I don't... I mean, I do like to look nice for you, but I've always enjoyed working on my looks. I want to look my best all the time. It's a little vain, but I like to do it for me."

Victor propped his chin on James's body, studying him for a few thoughtful moments. "Then do it for you. Far be it from me to discourage you from doing something you enjoy." He loved James's self-maintenance routines along with every other part of him and would worry should James ever stop.

"I guess all I mean to say is I'd be the worst judge of it, since no matter what you did, you'd look the best to me."

Jim shrugged and pursed his lips. "That's alright. I'd be the worst judge too if you asked me about how you look. But for what it's worth, when I ask you what you think, I just wanna hear you say how much you love the way I look."

It didn't take anything away from what Victor thought or felt about Jim's mind or personality traits. He was just vain, and he liked knowing his looks were appreciated.

He smiled a little. For most people, asking what Victor thought could be a little risky. He was blunt with his words and had odd ways of expressing himself. But James was a risk-taker and the results were always in his favor.

"I do love the way you look," Victor confirmed. "I love how your clothes fit on you, especially those tight briefs you wear. I love the way your muscles feel under my hands and against my body. I love how you light up when you're happy. And I love that everyone else can see what great taste I have in you."

He started combing through James's hair, trying to shape it the way James liked to wear it.

Jim always did appreciate honesty, regardless of it being nice or cruel. From Victor, though, he knew it would never be cruel or hurtful, not towards him anyway.

Case in point, what he was telling him right now. Jim could practically feel his insides melt, his face warming with an unusual fluster dusting his cheeks. He smiled coyly, curling in closer to Victor, then just moving so he was hovering a little above him. He started kissing all over Victor's face, planting pecks all over his cheeks, nose, forehead. "You're so sweet. I love it when you say things like that."

His heart gave an excited little stutter at James's movement. He rested a hand on the man's side and rolled a little so he was on his back. It was hard to judge but Victor felt like his madness for James was a little stronger from all the nights he didn't do what his desires wanted.

Victor let out a soft little noise, eyes fluttering closed as those lips explored his face. He didn't protest being called "sweet" any more. Instead, he smirked and said, "Then you should bite me to see if I taste just as sweet."

Well, Jim wasn't about to apologize for driving Victor a little mad each time, although this time around he felt as though he had been driven just as mad from going all these days holding back. It had been a good idea during the first few days, when his injury was still serious, but now Jim was very much done with being careful.

"Mm, maybe I should," he said with a lilt to his tone. He knew very well what Victor tasted like of course, on several parts of his body even, but that didn't stop him from tipping his head lower and sinking his teeth to the doctor's neck.

He let out a hiss at the feel of teeth, but James would know it was a positive reaction. Victor knew a mark would be left behind. Slowly he shifted his leg to hike the ankle around James’s calf. His hand anchored into the injured shoulder, fingers digging in before he could consider what he was doing.

He didn’t like being careful. It didn’t suit either of them, not as individuals and certainly not together. Both hands moved into James’s hair, gripping tightly.

“This,” Victor huffed. “This is more like it.”

Jim knew that, yes, and it likely showed, seen as he didn't ease on the force of the bite, much less so pull away. He let out a muffled gasp against the skin when Victor gripped at his injured shoulder, but he didn't complain in the least, nor did he try to get Victor to stop. The muscles were sore there, but it wasn't like getting a little rougher was going to tear the skin open again or make the injury worse. Plus, he liked the jolt of pain that came from those fingers digging into the sensitive flesh.

As a result, his teeth dug in deeper, knowing he'd leave a noticeable bruise on the skin. He stopped just shy of actually breaking the skin, then moved onto another spot on Victor's neck, this time sucking hard and working a hickey onto the flesh.

"I do like it when you're all covered in bites and bruises," he admitted, smiling against the marked skin.

Victor tried to stretch out his body and not break the closeness between them. "An easy solution would be to start making some bruises. You've already got a good start with the bites." He smiled, rubbing his ankle against the back of James's calf.

He could probably do this all day. "Unless we already did it, what's something you've been wanting since you got hurt?"

"Yeah... think I wanna leave a trail on your skin. That alright by you?" He probably should leave most of them where they couldn't be seen, though. Not because Jim minded people seeing them, but because he didn't think either of them wanted Lucy asking difficult questions. For now, he moved his lips lower to Victor's collarbone, and started working on a new mark there.

"Mm, flying the shuttle. But I'll do that tomorrow," he sighed, then pulled back a little. "Or— do you mean something involving you?"

"Absolutely." As if James really needed to ask. Though it probably was a good idea to make the trail where fewer eyes would notice. Victor shifted to get comfortable, fingers brushing the back of James's neck. They paused at the answer, nails digging a little into the flesh.

"I-- no, I was just wondering. But why couldn't flying the shuttle involve me?"

Jim wasn't too picky on that. It wasn't as though he felt a need to claim Victor for everyone else to see. He'd know the marks were there, underneath the clothes, and that would be enough for him.

"Oh, no, I didn't know if you meant like... sex-related, or literally just anything. Of course you can come along for a ride on the shuttle."

His fingers relaxed a little and he smiled. "All right. And if we run across people who need a doctor, I can help them." He tried not to snort out loud the moment those words left his mouth. When his father conscripted him to be a medic in the army, Victor was hurt and angry. But here he was offering to be a field medic.

But really, that was the difference: this time it was by choice.

"Sounds good," Jim smiled, his lips getting back to his previous task. Smoothing a tongue across the doctor's collarbone, he latched his lips onto the skin there, sucking slowly and gently, more careful and tender as he worked a new bruise onto the skin. A smaller one too, though this one should already be covered by his clothing, given its placement.

Victor fell silent so James could concentrate on what he was doing. The gentler treatment to his skin felt good. Soothing, even. And the bruise would ache just enough without bothering him too much.

Victor started humming while James worked his skin. He had always liked music both in his cursed memories and his life before Storybrooke, but before James it'd been years since Victor touched an instrument or sang a song. He still didn't do it often, but every now and then he would get in the mood for it.

He did a slow and thorough work of Victor's collarbone, then wiggled lower on the bed, swiping his tongue across a nipple before he started sucking a new bruise onto the skin a little lower, over Victor's ribs. His lips curled into a smile as Victor started humming a tune, though, and he paused and tipped his head up so he could look at the doctor.

"What are you singing there?"

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