Reminescence 1e
***
Of course, Jim doesn’t even stay a week in the hospital before he’s out, despite still being in pain. But he takes it easy for the next two weeks, drinking less and staying in instead of going out. When they start going out again, Jim stays away from most fights, picks out his conquests more carefully, and his brawling is at an all time low. He figures it’s more his bitching than being attacked with a knife that has Jim being careful and he doubts Jim will turn a new leaf over the incident. Apparently, ending up on his best friend’s operating hadn’t been part of the plan, and he can’t blame him, remembering how Jim’s face became white and his own angry/worried hissing. But two weeks later, Jim is more or less back to normal, despite avoiding fights that are more than just one on one.
He feels more possessive of Jim lately, and he doesn’t understand why. Ever since Jim almost bled to death in his hands, he’s been feeling protective. He doesn’t show it excessively, just reminding Jim occasionally to be careful. It’s in the way he pays extra attention to Jim’s every detail. How the blue in his eyes changes depending on his moods, the slight crook in his nose from being broken and healed too many times, but it doesn’t even make him less attractive.
How he flashes the smile that wins everyone over but doesn’t really mean it, and how it’s different from the genuine smiles that are the ones Bones usually get. How Reaper actually shoos away people that make Jim uncomfortable. The blond notices it and usually tells him to mind his own business, despite being grateful. Jim being independent is contradictory to Reaper’s protective habits, and it niggles at him a little.
But maybe he notices these things because they’re getting closer to each other. Jim also gets him out when he feels as if he could drown in a glass of bourbon and cheers him up. Whenever there’s women that try to flirt with him (because apparently, he’s gorgeous) and he politely declines repeatedly even if they don’t seem to get it, it’s Jim that gets him out, working his way into his space past the others and telling him they’re done for the night. It’s Jim that somehow knows when he needs an awkward hug because it’s some sort of anniversary that depresses both John and Leonard, even if they’re one and the same. He still separates his new life from his old one. More importantly, Jim is planning to stay with him at the dorms through Christmas and the New Year. Of course he’s planning to party, get wasted, and drag Bones with him.
Maybe it’s why he’s more acutely attuned to Jim. Maybe it’s why he noticed that Jim smells so good compared to the others. Maybe it’s why he feels like growling, telling the others to back off so he can hold Jim tight in a gesture that screams “Mine”.
It’s making him insane, that undercurrent of possessiveness that shouldn’t even exist. He’s pushing it down, trying to fit it in a tight box and make said box disappear, like when he repressed all his violent behaviour; even if it has surfaced more than once while defending Jim.
It’s the week before Christmas, and in six months he’ll have done a whole year in Starfleet, and the snow is drifting around them, it’s a very rare occurrence and he can’t help but stare at the sky and watch it for a moment, as it lightly dusts their shoulders and the top of their heads when they go outside. It’s the kind that glues together when it hits something solid, because it’s humid outside (this is San Francisco) and there isn’t a lot of it, but it’s ideal to make snowballs. He brushes off some of the matted snow from his coat when he and Jim enter the bar.
He’s drinking very moderately tonight, not that he’d ever be smashed, but he’s in a good mood today. The both of them are in a good mood and he even smacked Jim with a small snowball behind the head earlier, which had taken aback Jim so much that he had earned an, “Bones, since when do you do stuff that’s fun!?”.
They were enjoying each other’s company and the comfortable atmosphere of the bar. Jim had been frequently accosted by a few other customers, girls and boys alike, and he politely refuses them all. This had earned a raised eyebrow from him; “Are you ill, Jim?”
To which Jim had replied with a small smile, “Consider it an early Christmas gift Bones. I’m not leaving you on your own.”
There was one that kept coming back and even tried to mollify Jim by buying him a drink. Jim declined again, uncomfortable, scooting his chair closer to Bones, who had been slowly but surely feeling more like Reaper the more this guy harassed Jim. Eventually Jim did accept the drink when the man brought him Saurian Brandy as an apology and was able to drink it in peace. It didn’t last long that the guy makes his way toward Jim again, a little more drunk than before. Jim was starting to look like he has a slight buzz as well, even if he hadn’t had enough to be. When the guy had the nerve to actually grab Jim by the arm, he saw red, and grabbed the offending hand.
“I think he said, more than once, that he wasn’t interested. Now, go harass someone else,” he grounds out, his tone final.
“And who’re you? His boyfriend?” the guy snorts derisively before addressing Jim, in a slightly slurred and crass manner, “I’m sure you can do much better than him, love, why don’t you come home with me? I can show you a veryyy good time.”
Jim seized Reaper’s hand from the offensive man’s arm, shoving the guy away before saying, exasperated, “Bones, I can take care of myself. Anyway, take your coat, we’re going,” as he started pulling on his coat and heading for the exit, dragging him along, wobbling a little.
Maybe Jim had more to drink that he had thought. When they get out, Jim was dragging him to the side in a less travelled-by spot.
“What was that?” Jim asks him, puzzled yet a little angry, jabbing a finger in his chest accusingly.
“He was harassing you, which pissed me off,” He replies bluntly, frowning.
“It’s not your business, I was doing fine.” Jim huffs, looking a bit insulted.
“The guy must have asked you out more than five times, tried to buy you a drink which I’m starting to believe might not have just been Saurian Brandy, plus he just wouldn’t give up,” he replies acidly, staring down at Jim. “I just wanted to help,” he continues more softly, almost apologizing.
Jim sighs, leaning against the wall, “I know that. What’s been up with you Bones?”
He blinks, surprised, and replies, "Nothin’s wrong with me." Although it does come out a little more defensive than he expected. “Let’s go home. Everything is okay,” he says more evenly, trying to placate Jim into going back to their dorm, because he knows he really wants to go home, crash, and forget about creepy guys accosting Jim.
“You have spectacular mood swings and you say you’re okay? You are unbelievably pissed with a murderous glint in your eyes and then you’re so gentle as a kitten, that I feel like I should be scratching your ears again,” he sounds frustrated and has stepped closer.
“I’m a little bit tired, I’ll admit. I’m having a hard time with my schedule. And don’t you dare scratch my head. That was a onetime thing,” he replies grumbling at first then dissolving into a playful rebuke, trying to lighten up the mood.
“But you liked it.” Jim has that mischievous smile again, accepting the peace offering by petting his head. He actually allows him to get away with it, Jim tangling a hand in his hair, a megawatt smile on his face and his eyes laughing as he scratches Leonard’s head. It must be one of those things that people who are co-dependent on each other do. Besides, Jim has a really beautiful smile, and John really doesn’t want it to go away.
The moment is ruined when he feels tension thrum between them, seeing as Jim got closer to play with his hair even if they aren’t pressed together, Jim is still pretty damn close. He closes his eyes, trying to focus on the feeling of the hand in his hair and not the urge to press Jim back into the brick wall behind him. It’s wrong, he knows it, and Jim isn’t even interested in him.
There’s a hand that joins the other, fingers pressing in his neck, easing the tension, because Jim keeps telling him to go see a masseuse and apparently he’s decided to take the matter into his own hands, literally. With each hum he makes and appreciative groans, Jim smells stronger, but he’s too distracted to notice the difference in the smell. Jim is actually pressing closer until there’s no more space between them, and he unthinkingly places a hand on the small of Jim’s back to hold him closer, still making appreciative noise.
He feels a little drunk on Jim, and he doesn’t get it, it’s as if his judgement is impaired and there’s something else leading him on. He stares at Jim through half-lidded eyes, before taking a hold of one of his wrists.
“What are you...?” he hears Jim ask, somewhat meekly, arms having moved to hang on to his shoulders, as if he can’t support his own weight anymore. He brings Jim’s hand against his cheek, nuzzling the sensitive inner skin of his wrist. Jim looks positively confused, but doesn’t back away. Instead, he leans in until their noses touch.
He moves his other hand on Jim’s hipbone, his thumb making a circular motion as he steps forward, giving in to backing Jim against the wall. He wraps his arms around him, making small caressing motion along Jim‘s back with his fingertips, the undercurrent quieted inside of him but still there, it’s a relief on his confused mind. He can feel Jim shudder under his touch and hands cling tighter to his shoulders. He finally picks up on the smell, and there’s arousal in the mix, he widens his eyes, licking his lips, unsure what to make of it. But there’s also something in the mix that smells just wrong. When he stares at Jim, the blue eyes are dilated and the blond is breathing a little faster.
He audibly groans before burying his head in Jim’s neck, “God, you smell so good, stop it or something.” He abruptly let go, massaging his temples as the rush comes back, stronger and almost dizzying this time, as his inner voice urges inside of his head to take his “mate”, who‘s obviously interested and willing.
It hits him like a brick. That’s what this is about, Jim smelling so good, being attuned to him... all part of some animal instinct from the C-24. Jim is puzzled in front of him, arms still loosely around him. “Bones, you really aren’t making any sense...” Jim mumbles, speech slightly more slurred than before.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that...” he apologizes, even as some part of him tells him he should do more, and another part fights and says it’s wrong.
“I liked it. I like you. C’mere,” Jim says, as Reaper allows him to pull him back closer, burying his head in the crook of the blonde’s shoulder, as the other’s hand moves to play with the sensitive hair on the nape of Reaper’s neck.
He can feel a slight tremor of excitement go through him when he tentatively licks a strip on Jim’s neck and hears the small moan as Jim tilts his head, giving him better access. There’s elation inside of him, as his mate offers himself to him, and starts biting kisses that will leave bruises, marking Jim, who’s unbelievably pliant against him.
The other grabs his head a bit uncoordinatedly and moves him so they can kiss, wasting no time in tying their tongues together messily. He breaks away when his conscience kicks in and the doctor in him recognizes the symptoms of a rape-drug, pushing Jim away, who’s since then has become as docile as could be even if he’s protesting a little at being pushed away, weakly clinging to him as he has trouble holding steady on his legs. He immediately, unthinkingly, picks him up and Jim lets him carry him wordlessly, draping his arms around his neck, the both of them silent until they reach their room.
He feels terrible, and keeps a small stream of apologies against the side of Jim’s head. Jim hums and mutters things that he can’t make out but it sounds like “it’s okay”, and when they arrive to the dorms he gently drops Jim in his bed, and tries to head off to his own, but the blond is weakly holding on to him. He soothes Jim, extending a hand to reach into the nightstand and fetch the sedative he keeps there, just in case. Jim needs to sleep off the drug.
He carefully jabs Jim with it while pressing a light kiss to his lips, distracting, and he merely says to his confused expression at the slight pain of the injection, “It’s for your own good,” before Jim blacks out. He strips Jim to his boxers and t-shirt, before tucking him in. He also uses a dermal regenerator to heal off the bruises he left, as he was being over enthusiastic and a little out of his mind, before leaving Jim to rest. He stays awake that night, sitting with his back pressed to Jim’s bed, or pacing the room while occasionally hovering protectively over Jim.
He comes to the conclusion that Jim completely breaks down his usual demeanour and that’s how it’s been since day one. He makes him nervous, protective, sappy, and bitchy, and maybe a little in love; you name it, he feels it… He‘s pretty sure his emotional range has tripled since he met Kirk. But how does he explain that he was injected with a 24th chromosome with unpredictable side effects? The least of which now includes near-immortality (and he’s not wanting to try dying anytime soon) and some kind of Jim-only attraction that blows him out of his mind? “Is there even more to this cursed gift?” he wonders, and readily admits that he’s at the very least attracted and protective of Jim. It’s probably considered as love, but he’s not ready for that yet.
***
In the morning, Jim doesn’t seem to remember much of it. At first he asks how he got there and McCoy relates more or less what happened last night, includes the idiot that drugged him along with a warning to not accept drinks from strangers, and how he dragged him home (modifying the fact so he didn’t carry him bridal-style, that would have embarrassed Jim, but helped him stumble back to the dorms) and sedating Jim for his own good. The last thing that Jim remembers clearly is being harassed by said idiot, getting out of the bar and curling his hands in McCoy’s hair (which makes Jim apologize even if he says it’s no big deal).
He keeps quiet about Jim proposing to him and him... relatively accepting, slightly overcome by possessive desires. He figures it’s better to not mention it and save his and Jim’s dignity. He doubts hitting on his best friend is on Jim’s top list of things to do. Still, he can’t help but notice when Jim looks at him wistfully as if he concentrated hard enough he would remember everything about last night. Jim has a good intuition, so perhaps he has figured out that he kissed Bones and some more, but as to why that would be relevant, he does not know. He leaves him to his off-day before heading off to class, trying to act as if nothing had changed on his side of the game.
He feels a bit calmer today than before, and figures that maybe he’ll have to go out to avoid taking advantage of Jim again, because Jim wouldn’t stand a chance if Reaper decided that he was his to take; not that he could live with himself afterward, but he’s learned over time that he can be dangerous and prefers to use preventive methods.
One night, when he nonchalantly suggests going out by himself, Jim frowns and grabs his coat, insisting to go with him. He grins and says that they are an inseparable duo, going as far as to loop arms with Bones to prove his point, and trying to shake Jim off just makes him cling tighter. When they are at the bar, Jim goes off to flirt, but this time so does he.
He tries to find someone to quell the current inside of his head, and settles for a thin and wiry blond female cadet, a few well placed words and she’s melting against him. He leaves with her without Jim noticing, and he gives her what she wants, but he doesn’t feel fulfilled at all.
Actually he feels hollow, even more so when he stares at the number that she gave him with a “Call me anytime, handsome!” written in a nice cursive hand-writing, yet she never even knew his name, and he doesn’t remember hers. He trudges back to the dorm with his hands in his pockets and the lower half of his face buried in his scarf as he stares at the ground, silently wondering what’s wrong with him, why he can’t stop feeling hollow and vaguely sick at the thought of being with that woman instead of spending time with his idiot. That particular preventive measure can go to hell, for all he knows. He stops walking for a moment when he realizes his use of the possessive pronoun, and resists burying his face in his hands in exasperation.
Jim almost tackles him as soon as he gets through their dorm’s door, worriedly asking him where he disappeared. He raises an eyebrow and lets out a tired, slightly annoyed, “What? It’s not as if you didn’t frequently leave me at the bar without saying anything.”
Jim looks a bit stunned for a second, and there’s a quick flash of hurt, before looking a little guilty and settling on a cautious, “I wondered where you went, Bones. You never do stuff like that. I searched for you, asked around, then came back straight here, and your comm wouldn’t answer... I thought you could’ve been kidnapped or something...” Jim clearly remembers his warning about date-rape drugs and strangers with bad intentions.
He sighs and simply says, “Probably won’t happen anymore, anyway, so stop being a mother-hen, isn’t that supposed to be my job?”
And Jim having caught on early to him “getting some” despite the fact it didn’t give the relief he was seeking, settles on a mischievous smile as he says, “If she wasn’t good enough, I’m pretty sure I can find someone that will give you the time of your life.”
He shakes his head, snorts and declines, “I don’t want your leftovers Jim, thanks but no thanks. It’s really not what I’m looking for.”
Jim starts to protests, “But some of these chicks are looking for relationships!”
He throws himself down on his bed before muttering, “I’m starting to think that the ex ruined women for me,” with his hands covering his face.
When he moves one hand away, he gets a glimpse of Jim’s odd expression, as if he’s pondering something deep that’s surprised him. “Can I assume you like guys?” he asks tentatively.
So that’s his big revelation, that his friend could possibly be neither asexual, which Jim had hypothesised out loud frequently to him teasingly, nor heterosexual?
“Hell if I know,” he answers, even if he’s lying and he knows damn well there’s something in Jim that attracts him and as far he knows Jim is a man through and through, but since it’s a Jim-only thing so far, his answer is probably justified.
“I could introduce you to some great, gay guys who’d be looking for a relationship?” Jim is again *trying* to be helpful.
“Thanks but no thanks Jim. Just stop meddling in my love affairs, it just doesn’t suit you,” he replies with a small glare.
Jim clearly catches on that it’s not a comfortable ground for them to trudge on tonight, and he abruptly changes the subject as he says, “I’m going to take the Kobayashi Maru in March...”
At first he’s speechless before his eyebrow raises into his hairline and he blurts out, “Good God man, are you out of your mind!?” Jim winces, before chiming in, sounding hopeful, even attempting doe-eyes, “My professors suggested it would be a good idea, and I want you with me Bones. Pretty please? If you do I promise I won’t meddle anymore. And besides, it’s not like it’s tomorrow so I’ll have time to prepare!”
There’s nothing else to do but to agree to the ramblings of Jim, and digging out one of his study books and pretending to look busy until they both agree to lights out. What was that expression... being whipped? Well, Jim has him whipped, badly.
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