birds singing in the sycamore tree

[baedalites]

As night falls on Baedal, the city is almost quiet. The streets have a few last minute workers returning home, but by now, most citizens have already gone by the temples and picked up their vurt, ready to lay down and dream.

After placing a not-feather in one's mouth, there's a moment where it fizzes against the tongue before sliding coolly down the back of the throat and pulling the user down into sleep. A series of impressions, more sensation than anything concrete, appears before the user and this is how one chooses which Dreamer to enter.

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[aviophobia]

McCoy lets out a whoop that few on the Enterprise or at Hellsing would believe could come from the cranky head doctor, then leans forward over his handlebars and flies down the hill. Adrenaline is pumping through him, and he can't fight the grin that's broken out over his face.

[captaincocksure]

The sound surprises and delights Jim--he's sure he's never heard McCoy make a sound like that before, and he wouldn't have expected it. But it makes him happy, makes him let out a similar yell as he speeds down the hill, gravity pulling him down the incline at a dizzying speed.

That yell, he thinks, makes this whole dreaming thing worthwhile.

[aviophobia]

McCoy feels like he's flying. But not in the terrifying, oh-shit-we're-all-gonna-die sort of way, where he feels like the world and his life are spiraling out of control and he can't breathe. This is an exhilarating, pulse-pounding thrill, one he has control of, where it's just him against gravity, and he knows he can win. Logically, he knows that he could hit a rock and get thrown off his bike and die, and that a hovercraft is about a thousand times safer - but having the rubber grips under his hands and the hard plastic of the pedals under his feet feels so much better than the cold featureless metal.

He knows he's grinning like an idiot, and he's glad Jim's the only one around to see. If anyone has to, he's okay with it being Jim.

[captaincocksure]

This is as good as any other thrill-seeking thing Jim tried--maybe even better, both for being such a pure, physical thing, and for being shared. He feels the same high he gets when he runs, and maybe it's because so much of this is engaging his body. Pulled along by gravity, his hands gripping the handles and instinctively making steering corrections, his body astride the bike, subtly shifting to maintain the right balance as the path bumps along below the wheels. And the wind rifles through his hair, past his cheeks.

And he's glad not to be doing this alone. Glad McCoy shared this part of himself with him.

He pedals faster even though it feels like the forward momentum from speeding down the hill is already propelling him at breakneck speed. He wants to catch up.

[aviophobia]

McCoy glances over his shoulder to keep tabs on Jim, and he sees the other man leaning down further over the handlebars - to speed up, he guesses. Like hell is he letting Jim overtake him. Turning back, he lowers himself as well, gripping the handlebars tighter, and feels the wind snapping at his cheeks as he raced.

[captaincocksure]

...Oh, it's a race.

Jim breaks into the biggest, brightest, most delighted grin, and he pumps the pedals even faster. He gains on McCoy, but with great effort. His lungs are burning, just a little, as are his leg muscles; he's in good shape, he has to be for active duty, but he wasn't much of a bicyclist in his youth and McCoy's experience gives him the edge.

[aviophobia]

It is a race, and McCoy has every intention of winning. He's grinning from ear to ear, a grin that might surprise him at how much it matches Jim's, and he hunches down further, trying to make himself more aerodynamic. He chances a glance over his shoulder to gauge his lead, and it's smaller than he expected it to be.

That won't do.

Still grinning, he turns back, and he wills his bike to go faster. He's a little breathless with exertion and adrenaline, and he can't remember the last time he had this much fun.

[captaincocksure]

He's going to hate himself tomorrow when he's exhausted and sore, but he tears after Bones, forcing every bit of energy out of his leg muscles, chest heaving with the effort. He saw that grin his friend was wearing. He can't stop now, not when Bones is enjoying this so much.

That's all he wants, even if he's too scared to say that aloud.

His legs feel like they're on fire, his lungs like they can't possibly keep sucking in air at this rate, but he pushes himself harder, closing the distance between them again.

[aviophobia]

Leonard's losing his breath, losing his steam - he's too goddamned old for this sort of thing, he thinks, and when he dies tomorrow morning because Savannah licked him to death and he couldn't get out of her way, he's going to be pissed. Still, it's worth it, to feel the adrenaline, the burn, the sweet ache of proper physical exertion.

He can't even yell something snarky as Jim pulls even with him, just grins at him.

[captaincocksure]

Jim flashes that grin back, even though his lungs are starting to fly past burning and full on into feeling like sandpaper rubbing against itself, his muscles past straining and feeling like they're pulling apart. He pulls even with McCoy, the exertion starting to show; his face his flushed and his breaths are heavy but he's never been one to give up, to stop pushing.

But he doesn't pull ahead, either. He's content to ride by his best friend's side, exhilarated.

[aviophobia]

As the incline slowly returns to relatively flat ground, McCoy uncurls himself from the aerodynamic posture he'd taken, face and neck flushed, glistening with sweat, and his grin doesn't seem to be moving.

"You okay over there?" It's a genuine query, said between heaving breaths, but the grin does make it seem a little disingenuous.

[captaincocksure]

Jim flashes a grin back, but his wavers, is far more breathless. "...You've got a leg or three up on me," he's forced to admit, "I never did much of this when I was younger."

Two things:

Jim says "when I was younger" like he's not still halfway through his twenties, Jim, seriously.

And even though he's admitting defeat is imminent, he does not slow his pace or exertion in the least.

[aviophobia]

"When you were younger?" McCoy spits out in disbelief, flashing the other man a Look. "When the fuck are you talking about, last week?"

[captaincocksure]

"Hey, I was a kid once!" he shouts back, unoffended, probably because he doesn't realize how ridiculous he sounds in the first place. Barely twenty-six (he thinks he is, anyway, he thinks he's been in the city long enough) and talking about "when I was young" like that's even a thing.

Maybe the weight of command does that to you.

"I never had a proper bike, not like this, always tractors or motorbikes."

[aviophobia]

"You're still a kid, you goddamned spring chicken!"

To be entirely honest, McCoy's not that much older than Jim (he's fairly sure he ought to be thirty-three, so that's his story, and he's sticking to it), but he feels so much older - which is why it's so easy to rag on the captain for saying ludicrous shit like 'was a kid.'

"Never had to power yourself, huh?" he eggs. "How's it feel?"

[captaincocksure]

After a moment's careful consideration, Jim responds with the most mature and eloquent of gestures.

He sticks his tongue out at McCoy.

And then he laughs. "It feels both like the best thing ever, and like I'm gonna regret this so much tomorrow when my legs are wet noodles and my everything aches."

[aviophobia]

"You're telling me," McCoy calls back, straightening up, letting his pace slow down a little as the ground evens out beneath them. "Hope Savannah knows how to operate a can opener by now, 'cause I don't know if I'll be able to get out of bed. She's a smart pup, right?"

[captaincocksure]

"She could probably order pizza for the three of us, by now." Jim is so grateful for the slowly dwindling pace, but he's not about to say that out loud. "She saw me do it enough times."

[aviophobia]

"You can't let the dog order pizza," Leonard says scornfully, dark eyebrows drawing together as he flashes a quick glance over at Jim. "She'll get extra extra extra sausage."

[captaincocksure]

Jim has... no idea if Bones is being serious or not. "I guess we can't have that, huh?" he calls back. "It'd give her terrible breath. Not to mention, terrible gas."