Allergy Attack (Star Trek; Kirk) 2/2 - COMPLETE

[Spoo]

I posted this fic over on my fetish tumblr (yes hello that is my vulgar alter ego me ), but I figured it would be relevant on here as well. This is basically a pointless, plotless excuse to give Chris Pine Jim Kirk a HORRENDOUS allergy attack for no goddamn reason. Probably takes place somewhere before Beyond, but definitely after Into Darkness. 

Enjoy!  

- - - 

Allergy Attack 

Part 1

by Spoo

 

They were barely ten minutes into alpha shift when Jim felt it: A scratchiness stretching across the back of his throat and a gritty prickle at the corner of his eyes.

The dual occurrences were fairly minor and excusable, which was why he elected to ignore them. Besides, it wasn’t uncommon to encounter the odd irritant here and there - some dust in the vents, some residual pollen left on Sulu from his botanical moonlighting.

It was only when things got itchy and watery that Jim knew something was going out of its way to mess with him. He’d never been a stranger to allergies, and he’d suffered from various degrees of them all throughout his life. Granted, some were more alarming than others (if his reaction to the Melvaran mud fleas vaccine said anything about that).

Typically, though, they were more annoying than severe, and they crept up at the most inopportune and inconvenient times. Like, you know, when he was trying to command a crew and not rub the ever-loving HELL out of his eyes and nostrils - both of which had begun to sport red irritation from constant applications of his knuckles.

None of the officers on the bridge seemed to notice his situation thus far. Sulu and Chekov were engaged in conversation regarding their next set of coordinates while Uhura processed a recent transmission they’d received from an unknown source. Spock was supervising everyone’s progress, as he routinely did, but Jim knew it wouldn’t be long before his First Officer walked over to give him a status update.

In the meantime, Jim worked on getting himself together. He wasn’t really feeling a trip down to sickbay. There’d been a recent outbreak of Levodian flu throughout the ship, which meant that his CMO was putting in extra hours to make sure every infected person was seen to and treated. No doubt the grumpy doctor would have skinned Jim alive for waiting so long when the entire ordeal could have been taken care of had he come in during the initial onset of his reaction.

Either way, Jim thought, he was screwed. Damned if he didn’t, damned if he did. But that was usually how things went in his life.

At least he hadn’t started—oh God, nevermind. There it went. The skittering, cloying tickle that consumed every sensitive nerve in Jim’s nose. His eyes watered from the overwhelming sensation and spilled onto his eyelashes, saturating the cluster of small golden hairs until they were thick and heavy against his cheekbones.

And honestly, he would have taken all the allergy tears in the world it if meant that it was the only symptom. It wasn’t, sadly, and what quickly followed had Jim raising a closed fist to his face; he crushed it against his lips and nose urgently, stifling the first of what would no doubt be many, many sneezes.

“hdt’Nhhgsch-kt!”

He was quiet and discreet enough to get away with it, but he didn’t think he’d be as lucky with the others - mostly because they were already slipping out, stronger and more persistent than each one that tumbled out prior.

“hht’Ghnsch-xt!—nh’Zhschhuh!”

Jim’s gaze was flooded when he looked back up, but he could make out the form of Spock standing beside him. Apparently his sneezing, however smothered, had managed to catch the Vulcan’s pointed ear. Why didn’t that surprise him?

“You seem to be reacting to an unspecified allergen,” he noted, ever astutely, and in some cases frustratingly, observant.

“It’s fine, Spock,” Jim attempted to dismiss, though credibility was hard to come by with leaky eyes and throaty nose-snorts. “Juhhh…just a tiihhckle—hh’IDSCHhhish!”

Without turning around from his panel, Sulu said: “Bless you.”

Jim held up a hand in thanks - so much for keeping his allergic woes under wraps - and sniffled damply; he used the edge of his sleeve to dab at his eyes, which were overflowing worse than the murky rivers on Ferenginar.

“Forgive me, Captain, but I must disagree with your assertion. What you are presently encountering far surpasses that of a simple ‘tickle’,” Spock stated.

Jim wanted to roll his eyes, but they were already shutting due to another ticklish sneeze. “Huhh’ITSCHhhsh!”

A few feet in front of them, Chekov swiveled around and offered a blessing in Russian: “Bud zdorov, Keptin.”

Great. Now he was getting blessed in other languages. Hopefully Uhura wouldn’t jump on the bandwagon and delve into her extensive knowledge of xenolinguistics, because Jim seriously didn’t need to be blessed in Andorii.

“If I may be so bold as to suggest, perhaps it would be in your best interest to report to sickbay. Doctor McCoy will no doubt wish to tend to your condition and provide relief.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Jim deadpanned, grinding the red-hot bulb of his nose in itchy circles along the palm of his hand. “Bones’ll stick me with the first hypo he can wrap his fingers around. I think I’ll just ride this out and hope that it goes away sooner rather than later.”

Spock raised an eyebrow though said nothing. Jim didn’t like it when that happened, because it more often than not meant that he was about to be overridden somehow. Sure enough, the exact thing happened not ten seconds later.

“Very well. Then I see no harm in informing Doctor McCoy of your decision to abstain from a physical assessment.”

It wasn’t a direct or outright one-upping, but it was enough of one to let Jim know Spock was putting him between a rock and a hard place. And on purpose at that.

“Trahihh...! Traitor,” he huffed, his breath skipping, his head tilting back. Two steepled hands caught the release that had him violently pitching forward in his chair. “IH’KSCHHHhh’uh!”

This time, the entire bridge, excluding Spock, blessed him in unison; it was the final push his pride needed to step aside.

"Alright, alright. I'm going." Jim stood up defeatedly and, barely managing to tell Spock that he had the conn before another sneeze—“Hhuh’IGZSCHHhish!”—interrupted him, stumbled over to the turbolift.

The door hissed shut, and down he went to a doctor who more than likely wouldn’t be all too pleased to see him.

 

TBC

Edited September 18, 2016 by Spoo

[Anonymouse]

Quote

The skittering, cloying tickle that consumed every sensitive nerve in Jim’s nose. His eyes watered from the overwhelming sensation and spilled onto his eyelashes, saturating the cluster of small golden hairs until they were thick and heavy against his cheekbones.

Nnnfff, girl, this is straight up pr0n. You always produce such lovely descriptions. 

Quote

 

 

“You seem to be reacting to an unspecified allergen,” he noted, ever astutely, and in some cases frustratingly, observant.

 

 

Thanks, living Vulcan version of Web M.D., that was most helpful.  Spock being such a needlessly verbose dweeb and Kirk giving a little hands-up thank-you to Sulu give me life. I love how the crew seems to join in one by one when the last thing Kirk wants is attention. 

I have no interest in Star Trek outside of your writing so I look forward to the next installment!

[darkness-is-the-light]

Spoo! I always love your stories no matter what fandom they are. I'm not very familiar with Star Trek and I don't have much interest in what I have seen, but your stories for this fandom are very delightful. Attractive men with allergy attacks is kind of my thing. I can't wait for the other part.  

[Red]

Oh, I love your Star Trek fics SO much  I could read them again and again and again...

[sapphiremint]

Spooo, you know I'm always trash for your Star Trek fics!!

On 8/22/2016 at 1:19 PM, Spoo said:

Two steepled hands caught the release that had him violently pitching forward in his chair. “IH’KSCHHHhh’uh!”

AHhh this part makes me think of that cpine video.  Love all the bits of dialogue from the crew too hehe.

[AngelEyes]

Delightful! I love your Star Trek!

[RiversD]

Eeeeeeeee! I already flailed at this on Tumblr, but I didn't realise it was you. (I did spend a lot of time going 'this seems relevant to Spoo's interests' though...)

Oooh, such a lovely progression of symptoms. You are instilling in me a fresh appreciation for itchiness and watery eyes, girl.

But, y'know, I was coping, I was doing okay, right up until:

On 22/08/2016 at 9:19 PM, Spoo said:

oh God, nevermind.

Well put, Jim, well put.

On 22/08/2016 at 9:19 PM, Spoo said:

There it went. The skittering, cloying tickle that consumed every sensitive nerve in Jim’s nose. His eyes watered from the overwhelming sensation and spilled onto his eyelashes, saturating the cluster of small golden hairs until they were thick and heavy against his cheekbones.

Why yes, those are my panties, Officer. In a tree, you say? Gosh, no, I can't imagine how they would have gotten up there...

Spoo, you kill me. You kill me with this.

And words like these:

On 22/08/2016 at 9:19 PM, Spoo said:

Jim’s gaze was flooded

nnfff.

That is a lovely progression in sneeze intensity as well. Good gosh, you good.

I like how Spock's just used to Jim being a stubborn idiot about these things by now, so he goes straight to, 'alright, have it your way, I'll just let the Doctor know that's what you're doing...'

[ladytiscot]

Omg, you're an AMAZING writer!!! I LOVE this!

8 hours ago, RiversD said:

Why yes, those are my panties, Officer. In a tree, you say? Gosh, no, I can't imagine how they would have gotten up there...

XD Seriously though. ^///^

[Spoo]

I meant to post the second part to this sooner, but then I moved to England.  I haven't had a second to work on ANYTHING, but things are finally slowing down for me, so here we go! Again, there is absolutely NO PLOT. I just needed to give Jim bad allergies because I'm a horrible person.  

 

- - - 

Allergy Attack 

Part 2

by Spoo

 

The journey down to sickbay wasn’t necessarily a long one, per se, but it was continually delayed by a flurry of insistent sneezes that had Jim stopping at several points in the corridors. A few concerned officers had put aside their duties to approach the captain and ask if he was okay, but he waved them all off—well, sneezed them all off, and assured them that he was good.  

When he could actually get a break without launching into another infinite loop of breathy hitching, he stumbled on towards his destination.

He was looking down and wiping at his streaming eyes, which was why he blindly bumped into someone just before he reached sickbay. That ‘someone’ had a familiar voice - a familiar voice that spoke to him in a thick, Scottish brogue. 

“Och! Sorry, Captain. I dinnae see you ther—wait, hold on. Are you alright?”

Jim glanced up through water-blurred vision, and once he blinked away the screen of itchy tears he saw Scotty bewilderedly staring at him. Even though he’d been technically asked a question first, he couldn’t help but produce one of his own the moment he got a good look at his Chief Engineer. 

“Why’s your face like that?”

Scotty bristled at the unexpected query he’d severely misinterpreted and frowned. “Well, we cannae all be handsome dehvils like you, now can we?”

It took Jim a second to comprehend just why Scotty had gotten all bent out of shape, but then it hit him. “No, no, no. I mean what happened to your face?”

Realization bloomed across Scotty’s expression, along with distinct sheepishness for having misunderstood Jim so ridiculously. He gestured at the bruised and swollen lump on his forehead and began to explain: “Wee Man knocked me with a wrehnch by mistake. Is’noht as bad as it looks, actually.” 

Jim made a mental note to never be around Keenser and a wrench at the same time ever again. “So you followed protocol and saw Bones for it?”

“Aye, sir,” Scotty confirmed, nodding. “Said I’d have a real bastard of a heahdache, but otherwise I’d be fine.” He blinked, as if just understanding where exactly he’d bumped into Jim, and that there was still an unanswered question floating about them. “Ehm… What exactly happened to you, then?”

“Allergies,” Jim said, gesturing at his face, which had yet to reflect any signs of improvement. “I wasn’t planning on getting looked at, but Spock didn’t exactly leave me with much of a choice.” 

Scotty didn’t need further elaboration on that; he knew how the Vulcan could be when it came to getting Jim to cooperate. In an attempt to save his captain some grief, however, he felt it best to preemptively warn Jim before the poor man walked into a figurative lion’s den. 

“Len’s a wee bit…feisty today,” he said with a wince. “Y’might want to do exactly as he sehys.” 

Jim, who had turned to the left and slowly raised a fist to his face, didn’t respond straight away. Instead, he diverted all of his attention to the pair of sneezes that rushed out of him with no breath in between. “Huhh’IZSCHHHhh—IHHZCHISHHh’uh!”

“Blehss,” Scotty offered, wishing he had a tissue or something of equal absorbency to give Jim. Sounded like he really needed one. “Hopefully you’ll geht that sorted and start feeling behtter soon.” 

“Urghh,” Jim groaned miserably, scrubbing his irritated nose against his palm until it made wet, squishy sounds. He was pretty sure that his level of attractiveness plummeted with the unappealing action, but he could have cared less at that point. “Thanks, Scotty. Fingers crossed I’m not about to have my head bitten off.” 

They parted ways afterwards - Scotty heading back to Engineering, Jim strolling into sickbay - and it took all of five seconds for Leonard McCoy to notice Jim once Jim had entered his line of sight. Leonard looked even more irritated than usual, his hazel eyes manic and a grumpy frown weighing down heavily on his lips; he didn’t hesitate to openly complain when he saw the hot mess that was James Tiberius Kirk. 

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” he began, sliding a hand down the length of his worn face. “Damnit, Jim. Not you, too!” 

If anything, it was a direct testimony as to how many crew members Bones had seen and treated recently. Jim didn’t doubt that his CMO was exhausted and ready to sleep through the next seven or so shift rotations, but going back to the bridge without any form of relief sounded like a death sentence right about then. That and Spock would just send his ass right on back to sickbay, soooo… 

“Look, I know I’m the last person you want to see right now,”Jim tried to console, sniffling wetly. “And believe me, it wasn’t my idea to come here. But I…hih! I-I reahhh-ly need…” He trailed off, hitching, while raising a finger to indicate that Bones wait a second (and also that Jim wasn’t finished speaking).  He brought his elbow up to shield the damp, explosive sneeze that still managed to escape the edges of his golden sleeve anyway: “Hih’IGZSCHHHh’chsh!”

Jim was fortunate enough that a tissue box was being shoved at him when he blearily looked up, courtesy of a mumbling and grumbling Bones. “Take this before you drip all over my floor.” 

Which probably would have happened had Jim not set a handful of tissues against his damp nostrils. “Thing is,” he continued, his voice muffled. “I have no idea what I’m allergic to.” 

Leonard, who had stalked off to sift through a vast array of antihistamines, snorted. “Something I’ve come to find in all these years of knowin’ya is that you don’t need an explanation for a reaction. It just happens whether you know what’s causin’ it or not.” 

All too many times during their days at the Academy Jim had come back to their shared living quarters, sneezing and swollen, just because he’d walked past something he might have been allergic to. What would the kid do without him? 

“Consider yourself lucky you’re not swellin’ up like a balloon,” Leonard finished, shoving the cartridge he’d selected into its respective hypospray. “Now hold still or else you’ll get three more.” 

Normally Jim would have eyed the hypo with all the distrust and distaste in the galaxy, but he was so ready to feel better that Bones could have stabbed him with six of the things and he wouldn’t have cared. He waited until the injector hissed and pierced into the skin of his neck—ugh, he hated that feeling—before speaking again. 

“It’s seriously going to bug me not knowing what did this,” he confessed. 

“Could’ve been that negotiation with the Caitians. All that damn fur,” Bones suggested, referring to their latest diplomatic mission. “Or those wicked spores on Omicron Ceti III.”

Both events had happened fairly close to one another and less than three days prior, but something still seemed weird about it. Jim transferred the clean edge of his tissue cluster to his waterline, where he dabbed at the constant leakage that wouldn’t stop.  “Wouldn’t I have reacted sooner?”

“Not necessarily. Could be a late-phase reaction. Or hell, it could be a spec of dust that’s got it out for’ya. Lord only knows when it comes to you,” Leonard grumped. “If you don’t clear up in an hour come back and I’ll give’ya a stronger dose. In the meantime, get outta here before your body finds another reason to malfunction.” 

Bones didn’t have to tell Jim twice. He thanked the overworked physician and handed back the tissue box, yet it was pushed right back at him. 

“Keep it.” 

“Good idea,” Jim agreed, settling the tissues back over his nose. 

Another fit of sneezes all too soon developed, sending ticklish flutters and pulses all throughout his nasal passages. Thankfully the attack waited until Jim was out of sickbay and back out into the open corridor. “Hhh’DZSCHHHhh!—huhh’ITSCHHHhish!…hh! IHKSCHHHHh’uh!”

“Bless you, Captain.”

It took Jim a second to glance up, but when he did it was to the sight of a burly security officer. The man was holding his wrist, which looked to have endured some kind of fracture or break (if the greenish-purple hue surrounding the radial area said anything). 

“Thanks,” Jim replied, straightening and clearing his throat. He decided to mirror Scotty’s earlier consideration and pass along the warning. “Dr. McCoy’s having a bad day, so do whatever he says.”

“Yes, sir.” 

He left the baffled officer and started back for the bridge. Allergy attack or not, he had a job to do and he couldn’t let an ongoing sneezing fit come between him and his responsibilities. For Bones’ sake, though, he hoped he didn’t have a reaction to what he’d been given for his reaction. Jim didn't want to even imagine the possibility, let alone the look on the doctor's face if such a thing were to happen. 

He was met with welcoming nods (and a "Keptin on the bridge!" by Chekov) when he returned to his post a few minutes later, and also Spock, who approached once Jim had gotten settled back in his chair. "I trust all went well, Captain?" 

"As well as expected, Mr. Spock, thanks to your insistence," Jim replied, sniffing. 

That very insistence, though, now ensured that the itchy torture he had been subjected to lost its brutal edge. Not that it mattered, Jim thought, finally able to breathe regularly through his nose without triggering an onslaught of sneezes. The victorious little smirk that oh-so-discreetly upturned a corner of Spock's mouth spoke volumes as far as gloating went. 

 

END.

[Red]

That's so great, thank you for posting!  Poor Jim. First the whole bridge watching him unable to stop sneezing and afterwards he meets everyone possible on his way to sickbay and back.

[AngelEyes]

OMG! You voice the characters SO Well!!! Scotty was perfect! And your annoyed/grumpy McCoy is absolutely awesome! 

[Shamaël]

I am not really fond of Kirk normally, but you did great (as usual) ! McCoy is perfect... And I really love your spellings.