leftwithmybones: (unhappy face: by iconnoo)
Dr. Leonard McCoy ([personal profile] leftwithmybones) wrote2015-05-03 08:47 pm

(no subject)

God damn, he's exhausted by the time he gets home. He'd let Jim know he was going out for dinner and coffee, probably wouldn't be back until later. He doesn't tell Jim it's a blind date, but the email confirming that is on his phone and though McCoy had been careful to bring it with him, he knows Jim is far too clever not to be able to hack into it. Hell, he's not even sure why he did this, except maybe those damn stones scared him

The date? Hadn't gone very well. She'd been sweet and all, but they had nothing in common and he'd been checking his emails from the hospital all night. Despite the fact that she'd been beautiful, McCoy can't really justify seeing her again. He steps into the front hall of the house, prying off his shoes as he drops his keys into a bowl he's put on the front table. "Jim? I'm back," he calls, just to let him know he's home.

"You record anything decent that aired tonight?" he asks absently, scrubbing his hand through his hair as he walks inside, already trying to forget the date.
to_boldly: (Assy.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-05-04 01:05 am (UTC)(link)

Standing in the kitchen, Jim's outfit is completely ordinary, but for the fact that the jeans, shirt, and shoes are completely different from what he'd been wearing when Bones left. Inexplicably, his hair is also washed and even styled, and he turns from the refrigerator with perfect, pleasant innocence on his face.

"No," he says, "But I can download something." His voice grows louder. "How was your date?"
to_boldly: (Hey!)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-05-04 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
"So it was a date," says Jim, adding quickly, "I know what dinner and coffee means. Coffee." He snorts, eyeing Bones suspiciously in the next moment, but he doesn't seem particularly rumpled. He's just going for the coffee maker, which Jim is grateful for.

He may just stay away from the machine Jim destroyed in Bones absence. "Didn't get to that part, huh?"
to_boldly: (Playful.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-05-04 01:31 am (UTC)(link)
"Too old-fashioned for that," says Jim with a smirk, this one a little more heartfelt, for he does love that about Bones. "There's nothing wrong with putting out," he continues, less a suggestion for Bones to follow and more a defense of his own past behavior. He raises a brow.

"A man's got needs."
to_boldly: (Assy.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-05-04 01:39 am (UTC)(link)
"Popcorn," says Jim from his sudden place at Bones' side, and pulls the tattered bag he'd planted from the trashcan. "I tried making some earlier, forgot about the modifications I made to the oven, and boom."

He shakes his head. "I should've told you to buy more on your way home."
to_boldly: (Cheeky.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-05-04 02:01 am (UTC)(link)
"N'aw," says Jim, "I'm pretty wired." He's definitely not going to sleep until he figures out what to do about the hole in his bedroom, and neither is he keen to hold a hot coffee cup right now.

"I'm just gonna get a snack," he says, going to the freezer for ice cream. "You could put a scoop in your coffee," Jim suggests as he extracts it. "You could use a little something sweet if you're staying celibate."
to_boldly: (You?)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-05-04 02:08 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh," says Jim, eyes cast downward at the scoop of ice cream he's not sure he has much stomach for anymore. The fact that the idea shouldn't bother him doesn't seem to be helping the fact that it does, and Jim scowls a little, as much for himself as for that niggle of jealousy. What kind of best friend is he, anyway, if he doesn't want Bones to find some joy?

"I could wingman, if you want," he offers, resolving to actually do a decent job of it. "Like old times."
to_boldly: (Listening.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-05-04 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
"Well, I was a dickhead back then," Jim begins, jerking in surprise when Bones shouts, and then again in discomfort when Bones grabs at his tender skin. He tries and fails to pull his arm back again. "The popcorn was really hot," he tries. "I was gonna wait for you to tell me which burn cream doesn't make my throat swell up like a parade balloon."
to_boldly: (Cowed.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-05-04 03:27 am (UTC)(link)
"It was an electrical fire," Jim concedes. "A little one." Which is true, following the explosion the resulting fire had definitely been little by comparison. "It turns out I suck at freehanding twenty-third century technology." He tries again to pull his arm away, wincing when his skin protests.

"On the scale of Jim Kirk disasters, this is barely a one."
to_boldly: (Unhappy.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-05-04 06:38 pm (UTC)(link)
"Replicator," says Jim, a little startled by his reaction as soon as his ass hits the chair. The adrenaline that's been carrying him since the explosion is melting away, leaving him pale, and in its wake the pain is rushing in as if Bones' presence has given him permission to feel it at last. The burn on his right forearm hurts the worst, and all at once Jim can't wait to get the sleeve away from it.

But the air hitting it makes it worse, and Jim curses outloud, fighting a sudden urge to throw up.
to_boldly: (Lashes.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-05-04 10:16 pm (UTC)(link)
"I just," starts Jim, gathering his nerves against the fire screaming down his arms. He takes a breath and shakes his head. "I just wanted to do it. I need to be doing something since Spock left."

Keeping his arms stretched across the table, Jim lays his head down on his shoulder. "It was actually supposed to keep me out of trouble."
to_boldly: (Worry.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-05-05 12:45 am (UTC)(link)
Jim nods, and it's a measure of how bad he feels that he tilts his head even further, offering his neck for the hypo freely. "Sorry," he says, braced for the sting. "You're probably sick of this."
to_boldly: (Closed eyes.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-05-05 12:54 am (UTC)(link)
The fingers in his hair are so unexpected and so comforting that Jim actually makes a sound, covering the bald longing in his voice as best he can with a squirm for the hypo. He doesn't have long to feel anxious about it at least, for Bones is right. Already he can feel the drug working its way through his veins, bringing with it a pleasant warmth that makes him sigh.

"Thanks," he breaths, smiling at Bones. "Feels better."
to_boldly: (Bones.)

[personal profile] to_boldly 2015-05-05 01:03 am (UTC)(link)
"That's okay," says Jim, still smiling at him, "I trust you." He shifts one of the arms Bones is meant to be tending, dragging his own hand through his hair, but even with the drug it doesn't feel nearly as good as when Bones did it.

Jim lets it drops with disappointment. "Just don't have the magic hands," he tells himself.

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