Dr. Leonard McCoy (
leftwithmybones) wrote2015-06-27 11:05 pm
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Even though the commute from the country has come to be one of McCoy's least favorite things, he's not sure how ready he'd be to get back to the city. The countryside has a lot going for it between the quiet of the house, the large expanse of yard, and the porch he's genuinely come to love (given that he spends most of his free time on it, tinkering with his machines and research). There's all sorts of little things he's missed, too. Tending to the gardens and the land is one thing, but doing the chores involved in a house like this bring him enjoyment instead of irritation.
Which is why he's enjoying chopping the wood for the furnace. It's not that it's cold now, but it will be, and after getting off a double-shift and taking a nap, he needs a little something to burn through the adrenaline of the surgery he'd been in. This? This is perfect. This is exactly the kind of thing he needs.
He hauls off his shirt, prying at the tank top as he works on the newest pile, eager to create a good reserve in case something happens, and he's so far in to the cutting, he doesn't even notice that he has company.
Which is why he's enjoying chopping the wood for the furnace. It's not that it's cold now, but it will be, and after getting off a double-shift and taking a nap, he needs a little something to burn through the adrenaline of the surgery he'd been in. This? This is perfect. This is exactly the kind of thing he needs.
He hauls off his shirt, prying at the tank top as he works on the newest pile, eager to create a good reserve in case something happens, and he's so far in to the cutting, he doesn't even notice that he has company.
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There's a hot guy in the back yard, and Jim's mouth is open to ask Bones who the hell that is when he realizes the guy sweating through his dirty tanktop is Bones.
Jim's just never looked at him like this before.
Drawn like a satellite towards the door, Jim lingers in the open frame, color rising slowly in his cheeks. "Isn't it kinda hot for a fire?"
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But then Bones wouldn't need to chop wood, and that would be a shame. Because it makes him happy, obviously, or so Jim tells himself, eyes tracking the pull of the tanktop against Bones' shoulder blades. "Aren't you gonna pull a neck muscle or something and get super cranky for days?"
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Eyes aimed at the shift of Bones' feet in the grass, Jim rubs idly at the glass in his hands. "What would you be doing?" he asks. "If somehow, you were home in Georgia?"
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He can hardly offer Bones a kid, but the other things..."Looks a lot like what you're doing now," he agrees. "What else, Bones?" Now that he's thinking about it instead of his own broken heart, Jim could be doing so much more to make Bones happy. "What's the ideal?"
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"I guess I miss having someone in my life," he says. "It's been ages since Jean and knowing I have someone to curl up with and take out on dates, someone to listen to all my crap, I guess I miss that, too."
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"You lost your husband and you need a support system, the way you were there for me during the Academy," McCoy replies. "I'm just paying my dues."
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"You got it wrong, though. I owe you a lot," he says. "Or you don't realize exactly how low I was after the divorce. Whole reason I'm still ticking is you, kid."
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He needed Bones, then. He needed him, so he kept at him, coming at Bones' shell like a photon torpedo until it finally broke, but Jim has never realized how lucky he'd been that it did. Nothing in his life would be what it is without Bones, even trapped here. "I didn't know that."
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He's just really glad Rachel isn't here to tell on him. "Look, Jim, yeah, I want a relationship at some point again," he agrees. "But I'm starting to get too old to really want to bother unless it's gonna end up being something real. It's not that I miss physical affection. I just miss knowing my life's secure and that I've got someone who'll be with me when I'm seventy and even more crotchety."
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Jim picks at the grass beneath his fingers. "I keep going out." The words are slow to come, but Jim drags them forward, lost in the life he's made for himself. "Trying to pick someone up. And as soon as they seem interested, I just - " Jim shrugs. "I just want to come home."
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Jim shrugs again, shoulders rounding. "Somehow I'm still figuring out who I am." He looks up. He's been cocky and headstrong all his life, and Jim's never thought he didn't know exactly what was best for him, but maybe he knows nothing at all. "I really thought I knew before."
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"I could find you someone to take your mind off all this? Maybe seal the deal?"
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It could be fun, and, Jim allows himself to admit, it'd be fun to spend time with Bones that's not one or both of them moping around the house.
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