Just something I wrote almost a half year ago.
WARNING: Somehow it turned out to be slash-y.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Trek and Doom and their characters.

Doctor Leonard McCoy extended his left hand to take the PADD from his friend and froze, gritting his teeth tightly as his shoulder flared with hot, blinding pain. This shouldn't happen. He was healing almost immediately.

"Bones?" Kirk asked in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Left shoulder," McCoy managed to ground out without thinking.

Jim moved behind him and lightly traced his fingers over the Doctor's back, feeling something hard beneath the smooth skin. McCoy hissed. Kirk frowned, pulled a tricorder from his friend's ever-present med-kit and scanned the area.

"You have a piece of metal in your shoulder," he announced incredulously.

McCoy cursed under his breath. It was probably from the time, when he was knocked down by the explosion on Enterprise during Nero's attack. The wound closed around it and he was too focused on saving lives to be bothered by it.

Jim rummaged through the med-kit, finding what he needed and took a deep breath, "Hold still."

"What?" the Doctor was brought back from his thoughts by the gentle command. In the next second he cried out of shock and pain as the Acting Captain jabbed something sharp into his shoulder.

"Sorry, so sorry," Jim murmured, rubbing his back soothingly with one hand and trying to maneuver the clasp to grab the piece of metal with the other. McCoy breathed harshly, but remained as still as possible, mind reeling. What the hell Jim was doing? What did he know?

After a few seconds Kirk cursed, "I can't get a hold of it."

"Just yank it," the Doctor hissed.

There was a moment of silence.

"Are you sure?" Jim asked uncertainly.

McCoy shifted carefully and braced himself, "Yes."

"Okay," Kirk whispered shakily and brought his fingers to the open wound. "On three. One," and he dug his fingers into the wound, grasping the piece of metal and pulling it out. McCoy's vision swam and darkened as the piece tore through his muscles and flesh. He felt strong hands steadying him and after a moment the pain receded. He blinked rapidly, clearing his eyes and stood straight, flexing his arm. Not a twinge. Gentle fingers brushed over his healed shoulder and he felt feather like kiss on the spot, where Kirk made the cut. In the next moment he was staring into blue eyes.

"Better?" Jim asked softly.

McCoy nodded dumbly and blinked. Kirk should yell at him, demand answers, call him a freak, call security on him, kill him, anything, not just give him a light pat on the shoulder and walk away like nothing happened.

"Jim..." he called out, not knowing what to do with the situation.

Kirk turned around, noting his confused, scared and uncertain expression and smiling softly walked back, slowly. "It's alright, Bones," he spoke soothingly. "I'll wait till you're ready."

"But-" McCoy really doubted, that he would ever be ready to tell anybody about this.

"You will be," Jim cut him off, his voice still a soft, soothing murmur, like he's calming down a spooked animal. And maybe McCoy was giving an impression of one, because he didn't trust anybody with this for a really long time and he's scared, that he might to do so now.

Kirk tilted his head slightly, "I think you trust me." Dammit, was this kid a psychic? "I think," the Acting Captain moved closer, "that if anyone else did what I did," he licked his lips, "they would end... badly."

The Doctor swallowed hard and nodded. Kirk stepped closer still and pulled him in a hug. And when McCoy started shaking?

"It's alright, Bones," Jim repeated. "It's alright."

McCoy clutched at his back, letting out a relieved half-laugh half-sob, "Thank you."