leftwithmybones: (grumbly: by ?)
Dr. Leonard McCoy ([personal profile] leftwithmybones) wrote2015-03-21 10:23 pm

(no subject)

It's like he's traveled back in goddamn time.

Slinging Jim away from a hulk of a guy intent on whaling on his face a little more, too many drinks consumed between the both of them, it's like they're back in their first year at the Academy when Jim had been so damn eager to seek out trouble and McCoy didn't have anything better to do, seeing as Starfleet had forced him into bullshit easy courses and he had too much time on his hands while he worked on getting himself able to practice in San Francisco. So now they're back to it, except McCoy had snapped at the men Jim had picked a fight with to back off (seeing as they've done enough damage).

It's partially because McCoy knows if he has one more drink, he won't be able to patch Jim up and the way the night's going, he needs to be able to do that. Hauling Jim outside, he shoves him down to the curb and throws his jacket over his shoulders, not bothering to help him into it before he collapses down beside him, digging through his pockets to find the slim version of the hypospray he'd been working on -- something compact and simple.

"This'll sting a touch," he warns, before injecting it right next to the worst of the gashes on Jim's face, but hopefully the painkiller will kick in soon enough.
to_boldly: (Well fuck.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-03-22 02:50 am (UTC)(link)
Jim is busy burrowing into the jacket, inhaling the faint but familiar scent of Bones' aftershave when Bones stabs him in the face. Jim yelps and flings himself backwards on the sidewalk, both hands flailing to prevent further attack. "What the hell, Bones?"
to_boldly: (Dirty and pondering.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-03-22 03:02 am (UTC)(link)
"I didn't start it," says Jim, without any actual memory of how the fight began. He seems to attract assholes without even trying, so there's at least a fifty percent chance that he's innocent. "You could've let me finish it though," he grouses and pokes at his cheek. It no longer hurts, but Jim blinks as his finger comes away red. "Aw man, am I still pretty?"
to_boldly: (Hurt.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-03-22 03:18 am (UTC)(link)
"The night is young, Bones," says Jim, lifting a suggestive eyebrow. At least, he thinks he does - it's hard to tell after the tiny, somehow even more evil hypo. He closes his eyes, smacking his lips and grinning faintly. They are pink. God, he's tired.

"Why is it so far to home?" Jim groans in sudden despair. "Why is my stupid empty house all the way out there?"
to_boldly: (You?)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-03-22 03:55 am (UTC)(link)
Jim makes a small, grateful sound, both for the closer sleep and the fingers creeping through his hair. "I know I'm soft, but stop petting me," he says, opening his eyes to test the world's spin. It's still faster than usual, but he's probably drunk, rather than drunk and concussed, so it could be worse.

"You should just move to my house," he says, not for the first time. "Or I should move to the city. What the hell is out in the country for me anyway?"
to_boldly: (Brothers in arms.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-03-22 04:35 am (UTC)(link)
"I built it for Spock," Jim mumbles. "To make him happy. You'd think that'd be hard to do, but it wasn't. I loved making him happy." Sighing, Jim pushes his nose into Bones' throat, but it doesn't make him any steadier on his feet. "Maybe I'm not supposed to live there now. But it'd be a lot better if you were there, too."

Jim pauses with a sudden thought, accidentally halting their movement. "Won't it be far for your shifts?"
to_boldly: (Raw.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-03-23 05:26 am (UTC)(link)
"I can't feel my face," says Jim with a shrug that pulls at his ribs, but he does his best not to let it show, lest Bones feel bad or worse, stab him with any more hypos. "Ugh, don't buy a car. Combustion engines are ridiculous." He draws a breath, waiting with patience reserved only for Bones for the right street to be selected. "Let me make you one."
to_boldly: (Hey!)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-03-24 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
Jim shrugs, this time with perfect smoothness to combat the stab happy look on Bones' face. "Month, maybe. And it won't cost anything. Twenty-first century people literally put their cars in the dump where they belong, but they've got decent parts in them. They're just put together wrong."