FMLflash!fic: outsmarted
for this prompt at jim_and_bones : I've been trying to impress my roommate with my awesome smarts because I'm worried he thinks I'm shallow. Tonight, I couldn't get the toaster to work. He came along, unplugged the blender, plugged in the toaster, and patted me on the head. FML.
- -
"I'll meet you after my Advanced Physics theory class, okay?" says Jim, nonchalantly. But McCoy notices the way Jim swallows slightly before he says it, so he knows it's intentional. McCoy frowns. Whatever game Jim's thinking he'll start playing with McCoy, it can't bode well.
"Cool," says McCoy, and looks back down at his book.
"So--see you at three! After Advanced Physics." Jim bounces off, looking out of place amongst the stacks. McCoy shrugs, rolls his eyes at the books and goes back to reading.
A few days later, McCoy's leaning against the wall across from McCellan Hall 139. Sometimes Jim assigns their meeting spots to outside the classes he actually goes to. McCoy's pretty sure it's a terrible sign of their co-dependancy--or, at least, of McCoy's dependancy on Jim--that he actually meets him there. Today, they're going to lunch in town, but most of the cadets have filed out of the classroom and Jim still hasn't shown up.
"--and it seems to me, sir, that if we take Eccanist theory to be true, it's completely incorrect for us to be regarding Johnson's 'facts' as logical basis for scientific exploration!" Jim's voice comes through the doorway before he does. When he catches sight of McCoy, his eyes light up, but he just grins at him and keeps walking in step with his professor, who seems to completely disagree with whatever crap Jim's spouting. Feeling ridiculous, McCoy trails along behind them until they finally shake hands and the professor walks off in the other direction.
Jim turns to McCoy. "So, yeah. Sorry about that. Sometimes I get into intellectual arguments with my professors and they can get kind of heated." He slings his arm over McCoy's shoulders and tells him, in a stage whisper, that he's ACTUALLY KIND OF SMART, BONES and winks at him, his face hovering too close to McCoy's.
Something's up.
Later, when McCoy finds one of Jim's notebooks mixed in with his, and Jim says, "Oh, oops, sorry, Bones," McCoy realizes. Jim's trying to impress him. With his intellectual capacity, apparently.
Like he really needs to.
So McCoy plays along. When Jim tells him about the high grade he got on the last test, despite never having gone to class, he pretends to be impressed. Well, no, he kind of is. So not that much pretending.
When Jim gets into the highest level class in the engineering department--a class which grad students struggle to get into--McCoy uses a well-placed whistle, watching as Jim ducks his head and grins at him.
One Saturday, McCoy wakes up to the smell of coffee. When he opens his eyes, he makes out Jim standing in their small kitchenette, frustratedly banging things around. McCoy rolls onto his back. "...Jim?"
"S'nothing, Bones. Go back to sleep."
McCoy sits up, puts his feet on the floor. Rubbing his eyes, he mutters, "Can't now, you're making too much damn noise."
"The fucking toaster's broken."
He'd suggest Jim use the replicator, but they both know that the machine rarely spits out anything that's not a mild approximation of the food it's asked for. "Let me look at it."
He glances at the counter for a moment, and then back at Jim, ruffled in his tee and boxers, eyes sleepy and agitated. Then he glances at the coffee machine and falls silent. Jim starts to say something, but McCoy hushes him, trying not to grin at the confused look on Jim's face. Finally, when the coffee machine dings, he pulls the pot out and pours a mug for them both. Then, battling a laugh, he reaches forward, unplugs the coffee machine, and plugs the toaster in.
Jim makes a snorfling noise and McCoy finally laughs, leaning forward to pat him on the head and kiss his cheek, before he takes his coffee and flops down at the table.
Two can play this game.
- -
"I'll meet you after my Advanced Physics theory class, okay?" says Jim, nonchalantly. But McCoy notices the way Jim swallows slightly before he says it, so he knows it's intentional. McCoy frowns. Whatever game Jim's thinking he'll start playing with McCoy, it can't bode well.
"Cool," says McCoy, and looks back down at his book.
"So--see you at three! After Advanced Physics." Jim bounces off, looking out of place amongst the stacks. McCoy shrugs, rolls his eyes at the books and goes back to reading.
A few days later, McCoy's leaning against the wall across from McCellan Hall 139. Sometimes Jim assigns their meeting spots to outside the classes he actually goes to. McCoy's pretty sure it's a terrible sign of their co-dependancy--or, at least, of McCoy's dependancy on Jim--that he actually meets him there. Today, they're going to lunch in town, but most of the cadets have filed out of the classroom and Jim still hasn't shown up.
"--and it seems to me, sir, that if we take Eccanist theory to be true, it's completely incorrect for us to be regarding Johnson's 'facts' as logical basis for scientific exploration!" Jim's voice comes through the doorway before he does. When he catches sight of McCoy, his eyes light up, but he just grins at him and keeps walking in step with his professor, who seems to completely disagree with whatever crap Jim's spouting. Feeling ridiculous, McCoy trails along behind them until they finally shake hands and the professor walks off in the other direction.
Jim turns to McCoy. "So, yeah. Sorry about that. Sometimes I get into intellectual arguments with my professors and they can get kind of heated." He slings his arm over McCoy's shoulders and tells him, in a stage whisper, that he's ACTUALLY KIND OF SMART, BONES and winks at him, his face hovering too close to McCoy's.
Something's up.
Later, when McCoy finds one of Jim's notebooks mixed in with his, and Jim says, "Oh, oops, sorry, Bones," McCoy realizes. Jim's trying to impress him. With his intellectual capacity, apparently.
Like he really needs to.
So McCoy plays along. When Jim tells him about the high grade he got on the last test, despite never having gone to class, he pretends to be impressed. Well, no, he kind of is. So not that much pretending.
When Jim gets into the highest level class in the engineering department--a class which grad students struggle to get into--McCoy uses a well-placed whistle, watching as Jim ducks his head and grins at him.
One Saturday, McCoy wakes up to the smell of coffee. When he opens his eyes, he makes out Jim standing in their small kitchenette, frustratedly banging things around. McCoy rolls onto his back. "...Jim?"
"S'nothing, Bones. Go back to sleep."
McCoy sits up, puts his feet on the floor. Rubbing his eyes, he mutters, "Can't now, you're making too much damn noise."
"The fucking toaster's broken."
He'd suggest Jim use the replicator, but they both know that the machine rarely spits out anything that's not a mild approximation of the food it's asked for. "Let me look at it."
He glances at the counter for a moment, and then back at Jim, ruffled in his tee and boxers, eyes sleepy and agitated. Then he glances at the coffee machine and falls silent. Jim starts to say something, but McCoy hushes him, trying not to grin at the confused look on Jim's face. Finally, when the coffee machine dings, he pulls the pot out and pours a mug for them both. Then, battling a laugh, he reaches forward, unplugs the coffee machine, and plugs the toaster in.
Jim makes a snorfling noise and McCoy finally laughs, leaning forward to pat him on the head and kiss his cheek, before he takes his coffee and flops down at the table.
Two can play this game.