leftwithmybones | (no subject)

"You're ridiculous," he laughs, shaking his head at Bones. Being swatted away for that kiss doesn't dissuade him, actually he leans in close again, planting a series of kisses all over Bones's face.

"Oh, yes. In fact I make it a point to remind them of that every so often," he says in a chipper tone, not really caring that he's practically holding Bones's hand as they head into the ship. Maybe that'll get a few new rumors started, who knows.

He feels like he's being assaulted by an enthusiastic dog, but hell if he doesn't like it. He's grinning like an idiot who's deep in love when he leans in for a real kiss, not content to let Jim get away with these light little pecks.

"The troubling part is that you could probably do anything you want, you've saved the galaxy as often as you have," he admits, pressing a kiss to the back of Jim's hand before letting him go so he can duck his way into the ship. "God only knows I don't owe you because you owe me, at least twiceover, by my count."

The actual kiss is both surprising and lovely, and Jim just lets out a happy hum, a little jolt of energy traveling through him from head to toe.

There's a little spring to his step as he leads them into the ship, clearly already familiar with the layout. She's all finished so far as construction is concerned, there are just a lot of people going back and forth, setting up software, running diagnostics, installing minor components. Jim and Bones are both greeted with the occasional 'Sir' or 'doctor', and though no one says a word, a few eyes linger on their entwined hands.

Well, should make for some interesting gossip.

"Oh, yeah? Does that mean you're gonna start collecting now? I wasn't aware you were keeping tally."

He has to sidestep a few workers, because tripping over someone and testing out the new medical facilities on his own bloody nose isn't exactly something he wants to be doing, so he's glad he can tug on Jim's hand to lead him along.

"I mean, I'm not gonna collect, I just think that it looks good on a resume. "Saved Jim Kirk's life, helped save the universe, revived the dead." Actually, he's not saying that last one too loudly, because then there's going to be questions that he's not sure he knows how to answer.

When everyone is hurrying and running around, it's a little hard to avoid bumping against each other, but at least they manage to avoid actual collisions or unfortunate accidents. Jim quickly steers them through the different hallways and decks, leading the way to Bones's new sickbay.

"Yeah, because your resume clearly needs more stuff on it to further convince people you're a damn miracle worker," Jim points out. "Though I sure hope you're not planning on using that resume to look for a new job."

"I was thinking more I could frame it in medical and every time someone disagrees with me, I just smack it and point out that I'm the one who's successfully revived the dead. Twice." The tribble counts, he's standing by that.

"Don't worry, I'm not going up into space without you," he guarantees. "At least until I decide I'm sick of all that shit and retire to a nice cozy little farmhouse." Even with that, he knows that will only last so long before he goes crazy and needs to get moving again.

Jim laughs and shakes his head. Yeah, he's definitely not counting the tribble, that's not the same thing. "You know, having revived the dead doesn't make you right all the time, Dr. Frankenstein."

Holding Bones's hand still, he lets out a soft little groan at the mention of a farmhouse. "Only if there's no actual farm," he points out, casually adding himself to that scenario. Because if Bones isn't up there in space, then Jim's not so sure he'll want to stay there for long either.

"No, but it does make me an excellent doctor," he replies, being tugged along as he waits until they get to a hall that doesn't have so many people working on it so he can stop in his tracks, giving Jim some resistance.

At least, enough to tug him back into his personal space, one hand pressed to his torso just above his ribcage to hold him in. "What's so wrong with a farm?" he protests. "You get a couple of cows, you can provide for yourself." He's never done it, but he's attached to the idea, somewhat.

"Yeah, you are that... but I doubt anyone in our crew needs the reminder," Jim points out. Actually everyone in Starfleet knows just how good a doctor Bones is. Doesn't take a certificate hanging on a wall to prove that.

Jim slows to a halt when Bones does, turning to face him as he's pulled in closer. The question draws a sigh from him, and he shakes his head. "Nothing wrong with it, but I lived on a farm for the first twenty years of my life, and frankly? I have no interest in going back to that. Although a cute cabin in the woods, or even a lake house, now that would be pretty great."

"If we've got new kids, they need to understand how things work in Medical." He's not saying that it's a dictatorship where people need to understand that he's in charge and not to be argued with, but...actually, yeah, he may be implying that.

The last thing he needs are patients who think they know better.

"What if it's not the kind of farm we have to work? We could always hire hands," he points out. "Fresh food every day, none of the work. I'm pretty sure enough years at the top could afford that. I'm also willing to hear so much more about this lakehouse."

"God, you're such a drill sergeant," he complains, as though he's one of those ensigns who's about to have their lives made miserable by their new CMO. Not that Bones doesn't boss him around plenty too, but Jim does have a few tricks up his sleeve to get Bones to do what he wants him to every so often.

"Mm, no, still like the lakehouse idea better. Picture this: a lake so pristine you could practically drink from it. Cool water in the summer, so we could go for a dip and a really long swim... and oh, we should have a fireplace for the winter. We could cuddle up in front of the fire while it rains outside," he finishes with a sigh. It's but a dream, with their jobs. But it's nice to imagine a different life every once in a while, especially if it's a life with Bones.

"Yeah, but you kind of like it, don't you?" he adds, a touch smug as he presses Jim up against the wall again with a slower kiss, enjoying the way he can take his time since they're only accompanied by the sound of people working on the ship.

No other officers, no one here to give them orders or interrupt them, and Jim's painting one hell of a beautiful picture. He hums and presses a hand to Jim's chest. "I like the sound of that," he admits. "Maybe after the next five year tour, I'm gonna be ready to retire. I won't be a spring chicken anymore. And, you know what I always say about space."

In fact, he says plenty of things about space, but he's thinking about how it ages you, accelerates the cells in your body.

Jim opens his mouth to answer, only to find himself suddenly pinned to the wall. He lets out a gasp, muffled by the kiss, his fingers curling into Bones's shirt as he keeps him close.

"Yeah?" he breathes softly once the kiss breaks, a little breathless. He smiles and lets out a chuckle, tilting his head. "You always have a lot to say about space," he counters. Jim doesn't pay mind to most of it. He loves space, it's great. It's not like he's ever expected to live to grow old, anyway.

But picturing that lakehouse, Bones in his pyjamas and a warm, cozy sweater, bringing him a cup of coffee early in the morning as birds sing just outside the window... yeah, he thinks he might want that, now.

"Ask me in five years, then," he says with a smile, cupping Bones's face and pulling him in for another kiss.

Well, there's going to be a whole lot of questions that he might plan on asking Jim in five years, so that might just have to be one of them, not that he's planning to think too long and hard about that now. After all, who knows what the hell another five years in this tin-can is going to do to him.

It'll be his reward. If he gets out alive, he's asking.

He tugs at Jim's shirt after he steals another slow, long kiss, tugging him towards medical again, hoping they're done with construction so he can explore all the new presents he might have there. "I'll think about it," he says, waiting for the doors to slide open. "Okay, then. Show me around, Captain."

Jim returns that last kiss happily, not even complaining when Bones pulls away and resumes their walk to sickbay. They'll have plenty of time to kiss and do other stuff later, and anyway it's probably not a good idea to do it here, where there's the risk that a random officer might walk in on them.

Once they reach medical, Jim lets Bones step inside first. It doesn't look too different from the first Enterprise, though Bones, being the expert, might spot a few differences: equipment that's a little more advanced, maybe a bit more room too, or a slightly different configuration. Either way, it's Bones's territory, so he'll be more than free to change things up as he pleases later.

He's pretty happy with it, if he's honest. The lack of major change goes a long way towards him appreciating it, too, because the last thing he needs is to suddenly have to come to grips with something so new in his face, especially when he's still getting used to the part where he and Jim are a thing.

That's all the new and exciting he could want or handle, if he's honest. Grinning, he makes sure the door is locked once he ushers out a few of the workmen, patting the biobed. "C'mere, let's test this out. God knows you'll be on it eventually."

Sometimes Jim isn't entirely sure which way things are about to go with Bones. Like right now, when he all but kicks everyone else out of the room, then locks the door behind them so they're left completely alone. He's smiling anyway, knowing and hopeful, running a hand across the biobed before he climbs on as told, lying back on it.

"If you actually run scans on me, Bones, I swear to God..." Just saying, he better not have locked that door just because he wanted to play actual doctor.

"Don't worry, I'll save that for when you decide to go nuts on an away mission and give me a chance to use all my new toys," he grumps, seeing as he knows it's an inevitability at this rate, which means that right now, he'd much rather focus on having Jim here at his disposal.

Not to mention, the privacy they won't have again for years.

"Sit down and let me look you over. Haven't you ever imagined playing this?" he teases, reaching for an old lab coat so he can slide it on.

"You've got yourself a deal," Jim says in a chipper tone, entirely unapologetic about being such a source of stress and worry in Bones's life. It's fine, he's used to it. It'll be just like always. Well, in that regard anyway.

Jim laughs as he shifts comfortably on the bed, looking up at Bones. "What, playing doctor? What are you gonna do, then? Probe me, run some scans on me... should I take my clothes off for this, doctor?"

He waits for Jim to settle on the table before he approaches, dragging a stool with him so he can slide onto it right between Jim's legs, slowly nudging them apart so that he can rest a palm on each of his knees, slowly sliding them up and down, careful and cautious, but still, loving every warm touch.

"You're seriously telling me that you've never had a fantasy about me in medical and you here with me?" he challenges. "I thought maybe we could make some of that come true."

Jim lets out a happy little sound as he feels Bones's hands making their way up and down his legs, smiling softly while trying to reach down to touch Bones-- his hair, his face, his hands, wherever.

"Mm, I've had a recurring fantasy about you and me on the Captain's chair," he admits. "And the few times I thought about this... usually there were other people in the room, and we had to be very, very quiet."

"It'd be a real tight squeeze, the both of us on that chair," he says, but he's not saying no and for McCoy, that's more than an inch he's giving, it's practically a whole football field. When Jim talks about fantasies about this place, he arches his brow.

"So, where? Were we in my office?" he says, but he doesn't move his palms away. They might start resting on his thighs a little longer, but they're not going anywhere.

"Well... that's the whole point," he hums, winking playfully as he glances down at Bones. He nudges his heels against Bones's sides, trying to gently tug him closer, but not forcing or anything.

"No. One of the beds, actually, only we had those curtains and it was just you and me inside... of course there were other people around, but," he shrugs. Part of the excitement, after all. "Although the thought of you bending me over your desk... that's real tempting too."

Well, that's not hard. "Did they install the sound files yet?" he asks, getting out of the chair so that he can reach for the curtain to start drawing it closed, because if they're going to fulfill one of Jim's fantasies, then he plans on doing it right.

"If they did, we could always play some background noise," he says, getting back to the bed and standing between Jim's legs. "Go on," he coaxes. "Take your shirt off so I can see where you're hurting."

Jim props himself up on his elbows so he can watch Bones drawing the curtain, eyes widening. "Wait. You're serious?"

He hadn't really thought Bones would be up for this level of roleplay. The thought excites him, though, and he licks at his lips, and with a clear of his throat he asks the computer to play them some sickbay background noise. The faint sounds of machinery and people coming and going fills the room, almost as though the sickbay was fully functioning, and Jim reaches for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor.

"I don't know, doctor," he murmurs, lying down on his back again. "I think I might be running a fever..."