leftwithmybones | (no subject)

(no subject)

When he'd agreed to this, it had seemed like a good idea. Some drinks, maybe some relaxing, and he'd end the night a little sore, a little sore-eared, but probably for the better. Now, though, he's rethinking how much of a good idea this all is. The music is loud and McCoy has the suspicion that they've stumbled into a gay bar for their second stop of the night. Not that he's upset with that, but he's a lot worse at navigating one-night-stands with men (especially when he doesn't have love spells to help him).

He's coping with alcohol -- probably not the best idea, but hell, it's working. He's managed to nab a slightly quieter section away from the crowd, adjusting his green henley as he peers out over the dancing crowd for a girl that's lurking here for Jim. He's honestly not sure he could stand watching Jim go home with another guy, especially not if he'll be a room away.

"What are you thinking?" he asks above the music. "You wanna move on?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yeah," he breathes out in relief, happy that they're on the same page when it comes to this, even if he's not entirely sure what happens when they leave the bar, but he thinks it's high past time he got out of there. He finishes his drink and leaves the money with a sizable tip for the bartender, scrubbing his face with a hand as he leaves the bar, standing outside in the cold air and wishing, for the first time in years, for a cigarette.

He glances for Jim over his shoulder, waiting for him to come outside. And when he does, McCoy does his best not to stare, but he's a little past happy drunk and sliding into maudlin, now. "You okay?"

Jim feels unsteady as he steps out of the thunder of the club and into the quiet street, dizzy in a way that has nothing to do with alcohol, and as he looks back at Bones Jim realizes it's because he literally doesn't know which way is up. The shape of the world has changed, and it's changed so fast that it's left him behind, and he has no idea what to do to catch up.

He starts with one step, turning them towards the cabs for home. "No," he says honestly, "Kind of not. Are you?"

"No," he answers, after a long pause has passed and he manages to get back to himself. He doesn't know why he'd kissed Jim, because he's had this talk with his brain a dozen times (more like a hundred, these days) and he'd decided not to push anything because Jim needs a friend right now, not some overly issue-laden divorcee who works too often and doesn't want to be a rebound. "Too much to drink, too much sensory overload," he says, finally. "Don't even think I realized what I was doing until I pulled away."

Jim frowns. Bones sounds miserable, tired and old in the way he'd been trying to sound years ago in that shuttle, and even moreso, Jim doesn't like what he's saying. "You would have done that to anybody?" he asks. "That blond guy you were with before I cut in, you would have kissed him from sensory overload?"

"No," he admits roughly, swallowing hard. The truth is a bitch when it comes out, but it needs to. Hiding never did any of them good, and he knows it'd fester between them if he let it. "No, I don't kiss people that I don't have some kind of feelings for, deep down. Has to be something there for me to make a first move like that."

Feelings.

Catching Bones' arm, Jim guides them towards the wall, away from the other people that spill occasionally from the bar. "How long?" he asks, staring at Bones. It should be as if he's never seen him before, but Bones is as familiar as ever, and maybe it's not him who's changing. Because Bones has always been handsome, especially in this color, and he's always been kind, filling up Jim's time so he doesn't fill it with something terrible. He's always been easy to be around, always made life better - Jim's the one who's different.

"How long, Bones?"

He shrugs, trying to think back so that when he answers, it's honest. "Back on that island, there were starting to be a lot more moments that I couldn't ignore. Before that, maybe here and there at the Academy, but you weren't wanting what I did, so it was easy to dismiss."

He exhales and gives Jim a rueful smile. "The day I showed up, I kind of had it in mind to kiss you then, but uh, made it somewhere else and to another Jim entirely, wouldn't you know it?"

"I'm the same Jim," he replies, "Maybe not from that island, but I'm still your Jim, just like you were my Bones when you came here, after I nearly - " Jim exhales roughly. "Nearly lost it missing you."

He curls a hand around Bones' shoulder, and that little touch seems to help to keep him upright as his heart races on. "On that island, that Jim - he was having those moments, too?"

"No, you're not," he replies, feeling slightly light-headed to be admitting this. "Because you're married, you're still married. It's just that I walked into it at the wrong time," he admits, with a sad smile as he holds tight to Jim. "And I don't know if he was having anything. I was gonna make a move that night, then I got here," he admits.

He breathes out slowly, staring at Jim. "Don't lose it over me. I'm not near worth it."

"Shut up," says Jim without heat, because he's not going to debate Bones' self worth right now. It always goes down the toilet when he drinks, and Jim squeezes his shoulder. "What were you gonna do?" he asks. "What did you want from him? Just a kiss, or something more?"

He breathes in and rubs a hand over his face, slumping into Jim's touch. "I was gonna try for something more," he admits. "Hell, I don't know. Maybe I was just gonna kiss you and then you'd push me away or something. That's a long time ago now." He gives Jim a sad smile as he raises his head. "Let's just go home, huh? Can we please just go home?"

"I don't want to talk about this in the cab," replies Jim. "And I can't wait until it's over. Bones." Jim takes a breath, wetting his lips. "Is that something more what you want with me, now? Is that why you kissed me back there?"

He drags his hand into his hair, swallowing hard as he feels the world spinning a little. "It doesn't matter, Jim. You're grieving. You're looking for a rebound," he points out, with a deep breath. "I kissed you because I wanted to, I wanted you," he agrees. "Only, I know it's not gonna work, not with you feeling the do, about Spock."

Ruefully, he gives Jim a long look, gaze sliding down to his mouth. "What I want doesn't matter and I'm a big enough man to admit that."

"I'm fucked up," Jim admits. "I never expected to have a husband, and I never expected I'd lose him, either. Some days it hurts so much I stay in bed, and some days it hurts so much I go out and break something, but some days it feels bearable."

Jim sighs, releasing Bones to put his own back against the wall. "Usually always with you. Look." Jim covers his eyes with his hand, willing back the six shots he's recently sucked down. "I don't know what I'm doing, okay? But if I was gonna find a rebound, I'd have found it. That life's not even what I want anymore."

McCoy slumps back against the wall with Jim, shoulder to shoulder the way they're supposed to be. He lets out a deep breath and turns to glance at him, giving him a wary look. "What is it you do want?" he asks, frightened and quiet. Because he's scared that Jim will say something and he's scared that Jim won't say that same something. "Jim, I can't put you in a position that forces you into anything. You know that, right?"

"I know," Jim murmurs, his eyes growing hot. "I want - to remember him, but I don't want to feel sick when I think of him anymore. I want to get back to feeling alive again, instead of some muted, colorless version of myself. I want to matter to somebody."

Jim breathes out. "And I want to kiss you again, to see if the way it felt before was a fluke, and I don't want it to ruin what we are, because I can't deal with losing you."

"You've always mattered to me, Jim," McCoy breathes out, surprised that Jim could think anything otherwise and it scares him, a little, to imagine that Jim might not honestly believe that. "I want to kiss you again too, but hell, I'm scared to mess up the good thing we've got going," he says with a slow, long breath.

"Only, are we just gonna keep dancing around it?" he wonders. "If we don't do anything, are we always gonna wonder?"

"If we do," starts Jim, "What then?" God, if Pike could see him now. That kid who leaps without looking isn't gone, but Jim's not going to lose Bones to his own reckless instincts.

"If we like it, what then? I don't want you to be my rebound, Bones."

He shakes his head. "No, me neither," he agrees, lifting his heel to the wall as he glances at Jim, shrugging. "So maybe that means you gotta have a rebound first, get that outta your system," he says, wary about that idea with the way his jealousy starts to get worse, but hell, he can be a grown-up if it means that if he and Jim get it together, it's right.

If. He keeps saying if. At least he doesn't think it's a 'when'.

"So maybe that's what happens first."

Jim looks back at the club, at the lights that spill out of it everytime someone opens the door, the flushed, exuberant faces of the people leaving in pairs.

"I can't," says Jim, for the thought of going back in there without Bones is awful. "I can't get with some stranger. I'm not near enough out of my head for that."

"Even if I'm there? Even if I help you get someone?" McCoy offers, every single word sounding like poison to say. He hates it, he hates it so much, but he doesn't want things between him and Jim over before it even starts. "Look, we can go back in the club and try and get you some relief, or we can just go home."

Jim looks down at his own shaking hands, and he knows that no matter what he drinks when he gets home, he's not sleeping tonight. "Come with me in there," he says. "It's the best I've felt in seven months. Just dance with me, Bones, please."

Jim's eyes are imploring in the streetlights. "If we find someone for me, we do."

He nods, knowing that he'd do whatever Jim asks of him, given that he's wrapped around Jim's finger, whether he knows it or not. "I'll do anything you want," he promises, voice rough as he knows that he'll stay close to Jim's side the whole night. "Anything you want of me, whatsoever."

Jim takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, finding the traces of his usual smirk as he turns to lead Bones back inside. "You know better than to write me a blank check," he chides, opening the door back into the light and sound. Taking no chances this time, Jim catches Bones' shoulder and steers him right into the heart of the dance floor.

McCoy opens his mouth to protest, wanting to remind Jim that they're here to find him a date, a dance, a fuck, not for them to go right back to this, but the argument isn't a very persuasive one and not one he spends a lot of time on, anyhow. Instead, he just gives Jim a wry, fond smile and slides his hand to the small of his back again.

"What's this prove?" he asks, shouting the words.