Work Text:
Whenever they beamed down to an uninhabited Class M planet, Jim worried.
Well, "worry" was a little too strong. He wasn't worried exactly. But there always was that element of uncertainty that he could never quite shake, no matter how often things turned out well in the end.
Bones half-jokingly referred to it as the "call of the wild", and Jim had to admit that it wasn't too far off.
Khan himself didn't call it anything, never even talked about it. He would merely turn his face to what sun there was, nostrils widening as he scented the alien air, and then he would give Jim that brief look, not quite asking, more informing him of his intention.
And Jim, knowing he had no choice, would smile fondly and nod.
And Khan would return the smile and the nod, and then he would run.
Usually, he would stay out of sight for hours, while Jim worried - well, not exactly - that Khan simply would not return this time. That this time, he'd finally decide he'd be better off on whatever planet they were on, free and his own master, instead of being confined to Jim's ship.
Without fail, Khan would eventually turn up again, flushed with exertion, occasionally bloody from whatever encounter with the indigenous wild life he'd had, and high with the joy of having used his body for what it had been designed for.
Jim would be relieved, but never said anything - afraid, maybe, of giving Khan ideas if he did mention it.
They would return to the Enterprise, and things would continue, and be as perfect as they had ever been for the two of them.
But still, each time they beamed down to an uninhabited Class M planet, Jim worried.