If anyone else is out there, I need a little motivation. I started a Kirk/Decker slash that should have been a ficlet, by all rights. Instead I'm turning it into a full-blown ordeal. But I'm losing my motivation. So read what I have, and let me know what you think? Thanks.
Title: Personal Demons
Rating: PG-13, for now.
Date: 18 months prior to TMP, as well as throughout the movie. You'll see what I mean.
Summary: Decker expresses his feelings for Admiral Kirk. How will the two men work it out?
Nogura sighed, setting down a microtape. “Jim, I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that.”
Kirk pounded his fist against the desk. “I’ve got to get her back. You can’t give her to him, he won’t know what to do!”
Nogura frowned. “There is no way I’m getting in the middle of this. Now, you recommended him for command of the Enterprise, and now you’ll just take that back? It’s too messy of a situation.”
Kirk’s lips twitched. “You know I’ll do a better job. Will’s too green, too unpredictable.”
A smile came to Nogura’s lips. “And you’re predictable, Admiral?” The smile disappeared. “I’ll grant it, but if anything happens, it’ll be on your responsibility.”
Kirk nodded. “Thanks.”
Nogura wagged a finger. “Break it to him easy, Jim. You have a knack for being too direct for your own good.”
Kirk settled into the comfy chair in his living room, looking out the window. He sipped at a synthehol, watching the prescheduled rain hitting the window, bored and unable to find the will to do anything.
The doorbell rang. Who would come visit him? His former command staff was all occupied with the refit of Enterprise, and Spock was doing the Kolinahr ritual. Maybe Bones was back from vacation, come to say hello?
The door opened and Will Decker stepped in. “Good evening, Admiral.”
Kirk smiled. “Hi, Will. What are you doing here?”
Decker headed over to the table in front of the sofa. “I brought the plans of the refit for you to see, I figured you’d want to see what were doing to the Enterprise.”
Kirk grinned. “They picked the right man for the job.”
Decker smiled back, blue eyes meeting Kirks. “You made sure of that, Admiral.” Kirk had taken an interest in Decker’s career while he was teaching an upper-division course at the Academy. Seeing potential in his friend’s son, he took Decker under his wing, eventually providing him with the necessary recommendations to get command.
Kirk looked back at him. “Call me Jim.”
Decker smiled, colour rising into his cheeks. He spread out the blueprints on the table. “Uh, we went with the current Cochrane-8 engines to replace the Enterprise’s Cochrane-6, which should give us a 27-percent speed boost over the old. That puts max speed at warp 8.2 on the new Justman Warp System.”
Kirk nodded. “Where did the Enterprise max at before?”
“Warp 6.8.” Decker gestured further down. “Now, the deflector dish has been replaced by an embedded sensor array. It’s a little sleeker, but other than aesthetics, it’s really only mildly upgraded.”
Kirk looked down at the designs, captivated. “It’s beautiful.”
Decker nodded. “It’s the new school of design. Form over function, and all that.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “But there’s power under the beauty.”
His hand brushed Kirk’s sleeve. Kirk looked up sharply, his eyes meeting Decker’s. The icy blue orbs held no fear, but gave no answers.
Decker’s hand came to a rest on Kirk’s wrist. He leaned forward slowly as time dilated. Kirk was frozen, he didn’t comprehend anything besides the captivating blue that surrounded him. Decker’s eyes closed, and Kirk felt soft young lips on his own.
It was over in an instant; Kirk felt Decker pull away, saw him adjust his hair absently. He was at a loss for words.
“Captain...” he began. “Will...” he couldn’t find words. “I don’t think you should, uh...” He sat back, distancing himself. “I’m your superior officer.”
Decker smiled, his forehead crinkling. “You understand me, Jim.” He laughed softly. “We think the same way.”
Kirk shook his head, staring out at the window. He picked up his forgotten drink. “You know nothing about me.”
Decker touched his hand. Kirk pulled back instinctively. “I know all your stories, Admiral. I studied the textbooks every--”
“--The textbooks...” Kirk interrupted. “Have no idea what they’re talking about,” he finished crisply.
Decker sat back. “Jim, all the things you’ve done for me,” he said. “I don’t know why you chose me, of all the students.” He smiled. “I mean, your class filled up three hours after opening. Students would have killed to hear Captain Kirk give a lecture, and you picked me out of all six hundred of us.”
Kirk looked at him angrily. “I picked you because I saw captain material. I saw a passion for the job, and talent, and ability. I knew that Matt had raised you right. Don’t forget that we were friends.” He opened his mouth, closed it. He took a sip of his synthehol. “This is extremely unprofessional, Will. Half the female students in the Academy have sent me messages, almost what they once called ‘fan mail’. And you’re the son of a late colleague. But what you’re trying to do will have more impact on you than you know. It could cost you the center seat.”
Decker smiled. “I’m willing to take that risk, Admiral.”
Kirk looked him over, hard. He was silent for a moment, then he spoke firmly. “You’re not worth my career,” he said. “Even if I were interested in what you were offering.”
Kirk adjusted uncomfortably in his seat, his grey-and-white pajama suit suddenly itchy. He glanced at Decker to his right, feeling like he was back in the office of the Dean at the Academy.
Decker wore a confident smile, his eyes glowing, matching his uniform with elegant balance and taste. Kirk had to admit that the sweep of his hair, the subtle strength of his jaw, and the lean, smooth chest hidden beneath the baby blue all added up to a fairly staggering individual.
Nogura cleared his throat. “...Admiral Kirk?”
Kirk looked toward the figure behind the desk. “I’m sorry?”
Nogura sighed. “Pay attention, if it’s not too much trouble. Captain Decker has expressed his desire to make you executive director of the Enterprise refit.”
Kirk blinked. So this is what they called me up for. “This is...news to me, Admiral.”
Nogura chuckled. “All right. Now, this position doesn’t really do that much. What it does do is allow you constant access to the Enterprise while she’s in Spacedock, as well as access to all refit newscasts, updates, blueprints, and the rest.”
Kirk looked down at his knees, then back up. “All of which I have as Chief of Operations.”
Nogura’s smile fell. “Captain Decker is offering at least some connection to the Enterprise. I advise you take it.”
Kirk hid his aggravation under his calm face. “I’ll think about it, Admiral.” He stood up. “If there’s nothing else you want, I’ll go back to my office.”
Nogura gestured to the door. Kirk needed no additional offer; he headed straight out of the office without a glance back.
He heard the doors swish back open and closed halfway down the hall.
“Jim!” Decker shouted, running to catch up with him.
Kirk steeled his jaw, stopping and turning around.
Decker touched his sleeve, looking upset. “What was that?”
Kirk shook Decker’s hand off. “Are you trying to get yourself caught?”
Decker looked hurt. “I don’t understand.”
Kirk’s eyes blazed. “You and I both know that there’s no...”
A yeoman and two deskdrivers had stopped in the hallway, staring at them openly. Kirk revised his sentence on the fly. “...way we can discuss this here. If you’ll join me in my office?” It wasn’t an offer.
Decker shook his head, following close after Kirk to the turbolift.
They arrived in Kirk’s office. Lieutenant Riley was seated at the secretary’s desk. “Admiral!
Doctor McCoy called a few minutes ago--”
“Can we have some privacy, Lieutenant?” Kirk didn’t need to talk to Bones right away. He could wait.
Riley looked from Kirk to Decker, then back to Kirk. “Aye, sir,” he said, sounding puzzled. “I won’t let anyone through.”
Kirk nodded. “See to it, Riley.” He and Decker strode into his inner office, where Kirk locked the door and set up the soundproofing field.
He turned on Decker. “Look, mister, there are some backward policies Starfleet still has from the early days. They’re not written anywhere, but the Brass is loathe to let people of, shall we say, ‘questionable personal choices’ ride in the big chair.”
Decker frowned. “You’re joking.”
Kirk looked at him. “You know, I’ve invested too much in your career for you to throw it away.” He stepped behind his desk, leaning over imposingly at the young man, sitting casually in a chair. “If you want to keep a friend on the side, be my guest. Just so long as he’s not the Chief of Operations.”
Decker laughed softly at Kirk’s attempt at humor, leaning across the desk. “Jim, I can’t help who I care about.” He traced Kirk’s jawline. Were they really that close to each other? Kirk pulled back, returning to his comfort zone. Decker half-smiled, staring at Kirk. “And I care about you.”
Kirk shook his head. “No. This is gratitude, this is... Something else. This isn’t what you think you’re feeling.”
Decker sighed. “I love you, Jim Kirk. Nothing you can do will change that.”
“All due respect, sir, I hope this isn’t some kind of Starfleet pep talk. I’m really too busy.”
Will was being a snot. Whatever kindness Kirk was preinclined to show went out the window with his good mood. “I’m taking over the center seat, Will.”
Shock registered first in Decker’s eyes, followed by hurt. “...You’re what?”
Kirk remained cold. “I’m replacing you as captain of the Enterprise.” He took a breath. “You’ll stay on as first officer, a temporary grade reduction to Commander.”
Decker tried to assimilate the information. “You, personally, are assuming command?”
“Yeah.” It was a tremendous insult.
“May I ask why?” Anger replaced the pain in Will’s face.
Kirk forged on. “My experience. Five years out there, dealing with unknowns, like this. My familiarity with the Enterprise, its crew--”
“Admiral.” Decker had returned to formal titles since Kirk had last seen him. “This is an almost totally new Enterprise! You don’t know her a tenth as well as I do.”
Kirk nodded. “That’s why you’re staying aboard.” Kirk stepped forward, looking straight into Will’s eyes, taking his hand. “I’m sorry, Will.”
Burning tears of anger threatened to fall from Decker’s eyes. He regained his calm. Voice quiet but shaking with rage, he spoke. “No, Admiral. I don’t think you’re sorry.” He drew a quavering breath. “Not one damn bit.”
He stepped closer to Kirk. The anger of the past eighteen months flooded the emotional dam he had built. “I remember when you recommended me for this command,” he said furiously. “You told me how envious you were, and how much you hoped you’d find a way to get a starship command again.” He paused, squaring his jaw. “Well, sir,” he said, “It looks like you found a way.”
Kirk had no time for this argument now. He would have to deal with Will later. “Report to the bridge, Commander.” He drove the point home. “Immediately.”
Decker stared at him, hatred building behind his blue eyes. “Aye, sir.”
Kirk squared his shoulders as Will stormed toward the turbolift, taking a deep breath under the reproachful gaze of his chief engineer.
“I think it’s damn normal.” McCoy’s glass masked a small smile. “He has a crush, is all! It’s not a god-damn mental illness.”
Kirk stared at the bar’s liquor collection in front of him. “Crushes are for Academy girls, Bones.”
“And what if he’s still an ‘Academy girl’?” Bones took a swig of the synthehol.
Kirk shook his head. “No. Not Willard Decker. Not with a father like Matt.”
McCoy rolled his eyes. “He’s a different person, Jim. Will’s a great boy, but he’s not his father.”
“He’s center seat of a starship.” Kirk refused to meet his eyes.
“Now, that may be true. But you can’t say that all starship captains are the same!” He drained the rest of the glass.
Kirk set down his tumbler with a sigh. “But what does he want with me? Why does he--”
“Are you gonna ask me why people do the things they do?” McCoy’s stubble had grown into the beginnings of a beard, Kirk noticed.
Kirk shook his head. “I don’t know, Bones. He’s got his whole life ahead of him, and I’ve already gotten kicked upstairs. My career has stagnated.”
“I hardly call Chief of Operations a stagnant position, Admiral.” McCoy sighed. “So don’t get ready for your retirement party early.”
Kirk turned to him. “Well, what do you think, Bones?”
“Frankly, Jim,” McCoy said, “I don’t know what to say. You’re gonna have to take this all the way in one direction.” He looked at his empty glass. “Whatever direction that happens to be.”
“Yeoman!” Kirk stopped a girl in the corridor, lost. “Turboshaft eight.”
“Back that way, Sir,” she said.
Kirk turned to head back down the corridor. He saw Will, evidently watching the interaction. He tried to get right to business. “We have to... replace Commander Sonak.” His thoughts turned to Spock. “I’d still like a Vulcan there.”
“None available, Captain,” Decker said, blue eyes still ablaze with anger from their previous encounter. “In fact, there’s no one fully rated on this design.”
“You are, Mr. Decker.” Kirk smirked at him, raising his eyebrows. “I’m afraid you’ll have to double as science officer,” he muttered, proceeding past the stunned man.
“Sir?” Riley’s voice was coming through the intercom, from the front of his office. “Sir?”
Kirk sat straight up in his office chair. He’d fallen asleep again. He rubbed his eyes and tried his best to sound crisp and awake. “Yes, Riley, what is it?”
“Captain Decker’s here to show you the revised refit plans, Admiral.” Riley hesitated. “I, uh, I told him you were busy, sir.”
Kirk rubbed his forehead. “Let him in, Lieutenant.” He tried to tidy up his desk, turned to the synthesizer, programmed in a hot cup of coffee.
Decker arrived at the same time the coffee did. “Hello, Jim.”
Kirk took a sip of the beverage, set to the temperature he preferred. “You have plans for me?”
Decker was casual, yet distanced. Perhaps he took the hint. “Absolutely.” He handed Kirk a microtape. “Do you have a wallscreen?”
Kirk nodded, put the tape in the slot. A modified version of the blueprints Kirk had seen before appeared on the wall across from him.
Decker pointed at the drawing. “We’ve updated the nacelles, as you see here. There’s just no need to make them as large with the new engines. And that smooth, tapered look? That’s necessary to the design. The plasma expenditure is higher, but the expelled plasma joins up in between through these vents.” He indicated the space above the engineering hull. “We actually get higher speed and faster acceleration due to the vents.” Decker pressed a control on the wall. A painting of the redesigned Enterprise appeared. “We’ve added running lights for cruise-mode, to aid in visual identification. Once again, it’s primarily an aesthetic value, but every little bit counts.”
Kirk nodded. “So the new color is white?”
Decker grinned. “They’re actually calling it Federation Platinum. But yes, it’s a satin white finish, the grey was getting a bit tired.”
Kirk chuckled. “I’d have to agree, Captain.” He stood up, stepping around his desk towards the screen. “Why did you extend the sensor enclosure?”
“Oh, we needed more space for the system.” He turned the image back to the blueprint and looked at the bulged-out front of the engineering hull. “The design called for the sensor dish to have less internal machinery, but the actual array we recieved from Utopia Planitia was too big.”
Kirk put his hand to the screen, tracing the gentle curve of the bottom of the new Enterprise, unaware of how near he was to Will. “It’s so smooth.”
Decker smiled. “She’s a whole new ship, sir.”
Kirk looked to him. “Is the bridge in the same place?”
Decker nodded, swallowing. How did they always end up in such close proximity? It was a mystery to Kirk.
Decker looked nervous. Kirk stared at him openly, following the curve of his jaw with his eyes. He reached up his hand, tracing the curve gently.
Decker’s eyes closed gently as he felt Kirk’s fingers lightly stroke his face. He felt Kirk slip his hand to the base of his neck.
“Jim...” Decker sounded lost, confused.
Kirk pulled him into a soft kiss. Their lips met as Kirk slipped an arm around Will’s waist.
Suddenly the hunger for love and lack of intimacy rushed through Kirk’s body and mind. He needed Will, he wanted Will, he wouldn’t let Will go.
But how could he love the son of a close friend? It was, at best, a political mess, and at worst a disaster waiting to happen.
He released Decker suddenly.
Decker’s eyes opened, staring through the wall with confusion, as he brought his hand to his lips, trying to determine what had just happened.
Kirk heard Dr. McCoy’s voice. “Make up your mind, Jim!” the voice said. So he did. He took Decker gently by the shoulders.
“Will, I...” Kirk fumbled for words. “I think we should talk about this. Over dinner.”
Decker’s eyes widened. “Okay,” he said, still in shock.
Kirk smiled. “Tomorrow, at six?”
Will nodded. “Where?”
Kirk’s let him go, straightening his uniform. “The Prime Directive.”
The Prime Directive was well known as the best fusion restaurant on the West Coast. Fine delicacies from other Federation worlds were listed with traditional Earth favourites in a careful choice by the main chefs.
It also had the dubious distinction of being the only restaurant in San Fransisco where being an Admiral could get you a better table.
Kirk, knowing this, took advantage of his rank and selected a corner booth with high-backed seats. It was the best booth in the house, Kirk knew. One could see and hear the entire restaurant without being noticed or overheard. It had served him many purposes in the past, and Kirk could only hope it would stay faithful to him through this.
Kirk had dressed for the occasion in his favourite leather jacket (with the high collar) and nondescript black pants. Will’s clothes were, as usual, tasteful designs in muted colours. A tight shirt with vintage clasps called ‘buttons’ in a silvery satin, covered by a faded blue sweater and what they once called ‘jeans’. Decker was always one for costumes. However, one positive aspect of this little number was that it had the unique twenty-first century ability to blend with virtually everything. Clearly Will sensed the need for discretion. Finally.
Kirk slid into the booth across from him.
Will had a hopeful smile on his face. It seemed that Kirk’s actions the night before had finally hit him.
The waiter approached. “Something I can get you boys to drink?” He held a datapadd.
Kirk looked at Decker.
Will smiled, turning to the waiter. “Altair water, please.”
The waiter nodded. “And for you, Admiral?”
Kirk frowned. He hated being recognized. “Aldebaran gin, if you’ve got it.”
The waiter sighed. “That’s been in high demand recently, Admiral. Something else you’d like?”
Kirk rolled his eyes. “Then Altair water for me as well.”
The waiter nodded, flashed a smile, set down two menus, and left.
Will laughed softly. “Aldebaran gin, Admiral?” he said.
Kirk shrugged. The discomfort was settling in in the booth beside him. “It’s my favorite, next to Saurian brandy,” he said.
Will folded his hands on the table. “So tell me, Jim, what’s going on with you?” His approach was casual but serious.
So we’re jumping right in, are we. Jim coughed. “I’m really not sure, Will.” He adjusted his jacket, a nervous habit which had recently gone into overtime with its manifestations. “Spock would tell me I’m being irrational, of course.” He felt tense and shaky.
Will nodded, looking into Kirk’s eyes, fascinated, though not by what Kirk was trying to say. “I don’t doubt it,” he said.
The waiter arrived, thankfully, with the water. Kirk took a long drink, grateful for a break. He had no idea exactly what he wanted to say.
Will took a small sip of the glass, setting it down on the coaster.
“Will,” Kirk began stronger, “I’m not a homosexual.”
Will shrugged, smiling but confused. “Neither am I.”
Kirk blinked. “I’m not sure I understand you,” he said. “You’re attracted to me.”
Kirk frowned. “I have a son, Will. A son who must be ten or twelve by now. And I was a good friend of your father’s. We’re ten years apart, we’re completely different people, we have nothing in common.”
Will shrugged again. “I know all this, Jim. You think I haven’t thought about it already?” He smiled. “Jim.” His voice was content, soft. “I want to be with you.”
Kirk looked down at his menu. He’d already decided on his meal, but he needed somewhere to turn his eyes from those gently piercing periwinkle gems which were, even now, intently focused on Kirk’s own. “I wish I could say the same.”
“Excuse me?” Will seemed surprised.
“I’m not sure I’m ready to abandon the entire female population yet, Will,” Kirk said, trying for humor.
Will smiled. “I don’t care what you do with women, Jim,” he said, sounding slightly amused. “Women are no threat to me.”
Kirk’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
Will traced the lip of his water glass with the tip of a slender finger. “How many women have you made love with, over the course of your five-year mission?”
Kirk considered it. “Too many to count,” he said, smirking slightly.
Will nodded. “And how many have you honestly loved?”
Kirk paused. “With or without amnesia?” he asked, thinking about Miramanee.
“What the hell. With amnesia,” Will said.
“Two.” Kirk said. Will looked at him. “...I see your point,” Kirk finished.
“It’s not sex I’m after, Jim.” Will’s sounded serious but still vaguely amused. “It’s your love.”
Kirk shrugged. “I’ve loved you like a son ever since Matt--”
“Not that kind of love,” Will said slowly.
Kirk shook his head. “This isn’t romantic love, Will, and you know it. This is misplaced desire for a father figure.”
“Don’t you see, Jim?” Will smiled sadly. “No, I don’t suppose you do. I’ve had a father figure in you since Dad’s accident with the Machine.” He took a sip of water. “I want you to hold me the way you held Edith, and Carol, and yes, even Miramanee.” He put his hand on Kirk’s, and a surge of emotion channeled through him. “I want to be the one you dream about.”
“Navigator, lay in a new heading to conform with initial IP with the intruder.” Kirk stood up, adjusting his tunic as the bridge crew picked up the pieces. “Mr. Sulu, you have the conn.” He turned to the turbolift, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.”Mr. Decker.”
Decker looked up
Kirk turned to face him. “I’d like to see you in my quarters.”
McCoy knew where this was going; Poor old Bones would have to run interference again. “Mind if I tag along, Captain?” It wasn’t a question.
Kirk opened his eyes, blinking the sleep out of them.
He sat up straight, finding himself laying on a large sofa. This wasn’t his apartment! Where in the name of hell did he end up?
“Morning, Jim,” came a cheery voice from behind him, a voice Kirk recognized as Will’s. “How’d you sleep?”
Kirk turned to look at him. Will was sitting at his kitchen table, dressed in a bathrobe and sipping at a steaming mug of something-or-other. Kirk noticed his own leather jacket drapped across the other chair’s back.
Will smiled at him. “Did you know that you snore?”
Kirk put a hand to his forehead. “Yes, actually. How did I get here?”
Will shrugged, confused. “We walked from the Prime Directive last night, why?”
Kirk stared at him, trying to form words. “Why can’t I remember coming here?”
Will laughed. “You had some Saurian brandy after the meal.”
“How many?” Kirk’s head suddenly threatened to explode.
“About one, or two,” Will said. “Or, you know, five or nine.”
Kirk nodded. “And did we...?”
“No, Admiral!” Colour rose into Will’s cheeks, a mildly embarrassed grin across his face. “I just didn’t want you to go home in the state you were in.”
Kirk sighed. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Will murmured.
Kirk took in his surroundings. The room around him was decidedly utilitarian, but had a pleasing palette of colours, with gentle blues and greens blending with the corporate grey walls. It was exactly what one would expect from Will Decker. “When did we leave?”
Kirk checked his watch. It was eleven thirty. “I’m...not sure if I’m ready to deal with the potential results of all this.”
Will smiled into his coffee. “You were fairly ready last night, Jim.”
Kirk looked down. “I was?”
Will nodded. “But I was good and kept my hands to myself.” He set the mug down. “And I’m glad I was. Because it could have been tricky explaining your first homosexual encounter while you were hung over.”
Well, it technically isn’t my first, thought Kirk, remembering Gary. But that’s a discussion for another day.
“I’m resigning from the fleet.”
Kirk jumped out of his own brain and back into Will’s apartment. “You’re what?!”
Will smirked. “Never mind. Just making sure you were still on the planet with me.”
Kirk breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m here now.” He paused. “Can I have just a little more time to think about this?”
Will nodded slowly.
“Thanks.” Kirk stood up. “I ought to get to my office, Riley’s probably having a coronary by now.” He grabbed his jacket, slipping on his shoes which were sitting beneath it. “Have a good day, Will. I’m sure I’ll find an answer for you soon.”
Decker stood up, taking Kirk’s hand. “Can I have a little something to go on?” he asked softly.
Kirk smiled. He took Will into his arms, kissing him softly at first, then with renewed passion and desire. He reached in between their bodies, untying the bathrobe, pulling it open, slipping his arms around Will’s naked body within the folds of mint-green terrycloth.
Kirk traced the curve of his slender waist and hips, feeling the soft yet firm skin across the small of his back, the gentle slope of his shoulders and shoulder blades. Kirk felt Will’s hands clench around his waist as Will’s murmur of ecstasy dissolved into Kirk’s mouth.
Kirk couldn’t get enough of Will’s body. His taste, his scent, his every action enthralled Kirk more than anyone had before.
Will gently pushed him away. “Jim...” he said, his eyes still closed, “I don’t want any more of this unless you mean it.”
Kirk held his shoulders, relishing in the way the open fabric fell around his tanned and slender chest. “You’re...” He released him. “You’re right, of course.” He smiled at Decker as the blond man retied his bathrobe. “I’m sorry.”
Will smiled. “Don’t be. I just don’t want anything we do to be a source of regret.”