background fic: The Fire They Build (Kirk/Bones)
backstory written by kirktastic and dctr_mccoy for the kink meme rp game; a companion piece to this thread
Three years, three holiday breaks...(or what Kirk and Bones did for Christmas at the Academy)
Dec 2255
Classes weren't officially done for the semester until Friday but Leonard suspected that some cadets were taking off early. The dormitory was quieter in the evenings, fewer people out walking the quad. The infirmary was seeing fewer patients, thank fuck, because if he had to prescribe another dose of cortropine for these stupid kids dropping like flies from finals week stress - too many stims and not getting enough sleep - he was going to pull out a phaser and just start shooting them to put them out of their fucking misery.
He headed back to his dormitory in a poor mood. Dropping his med kit on the floor, he turned on the computer terminal and began parsing through his messages. Nearly all of them were departmental bullshit, holiday greetings, reminders to cadets to lock up expensive equipment or personal if you were leaving for the semester break.
Leonard snorted at that. Leaving? He had absolutely no fucking place to go, and from the look of it, neither did Jim. Nothing was packed up, he hadn't mentioned a damn thing about leaving for the holidays, or even the holidays themselves. Just like it was any other day, week, month in their Academy lives. ...Wait. A message from Kirk, James T.?
Leonard opened it.
Leonard,
In one of the computer labs. Don't wait up for me.
JTK
That was interesting... and Leonard was bored as hell. Grabbing a couple pieces of fruit and a bottle of water, he headed out the door toward the labs.
The building was nearly empty, so it wasn't hard to find Jim hunched over a console in one of the labs in the back. "Hey," he called out, stepping toward him and peering over his shoulder. Looked to be a dozen programs open, and Jim was typing like a madman, coding flying from his fingers faster than Leonard could follow. "What's up?" he asked, dropping the bottle of water and an apple next to Jim's arm and finding a nearby chair to sit on.
"Like magic, you always know when I need a pick me up," Jim murmured, but he didn't reach for either item. "Didn't have to come, you know."
"Was bored," Leonard replied, leaning back and crossing a leg in front of him. "Thought we could go grab some food or something later." But Jim seemed really intent on whatever the fuck he was working on. Oh well. "I can leave you alone, if you're busy," he said, standing up slowly. "I'll catch ya later."
Finally Jim actually looked up from what he was doing, giving a blink at Leonard. It was strange, how pale he looked in the console's white light, and the light made the shadows under his eyes worse. "...nah, like having you around." He said after a few seconds of silence, a lazy grin coming to his lips. "Where were you thinking?"
"Anywhere I can get away from all this Christmas bullshit," Leonard muttered. "I swear I see another reindeer or Santa Claus I'm gonna sedate them the hard way." But there weren't many places one could escape the holiday trappings, not on December 21st. A little sigh escaped him. "Wouldn't say no to Chinese." Or a beer.
Jim frowned, "...What?" He sounded honestly confused, "But you have that kid and everyone." As if that magically made someone give a shit about the holidays.
"She's with her mother." And her stepfather, Leonard added in his head, but not aloud. "I sent her a present a few days ago, but..." he shrugged. "Just gonna hang out here and pick up any extra shifts they got at the clinic."
The code was looked at, a finger idly scrolling through it before he nodded once and started to save everything. "Chinese it is." He stood up, not saying anything more about the subject.
That brought a hint of a smile. Jim could always be counted on for some fun, or at the very least, some distraction from whatever it was that was haunting Leonard's thoughts that day. Failure, death, alcohol, Joanna... all pushed aside when he couldn't stand it anymore, courtesy of Jim Kirk.
They ended up at a little dive Jim knew about that made the hottest Kung Pao that Leonard ever had. He was half-way through his meal when he noticed Jim just pushing his food around his plate. "Somethin' wrong with it?" he asked with a full mouth, looking concerned.
"...Nope." Jim said, not looking up, "Best chinese food a poor man can afford in this city." He nudged at a noodle with his chopsticks. Come to think of it... Jim looked a bit sunken around the eyes.
"Thought we were past you bullshitting me, kid. You're not sick, are you?" Leonard asked, looking at Jim with an evaluative glance. He'd been quiet the last few days, unusual, but it was finals and everyone was on edge. Leonard hadn't been in the best mood himself, not since getting the letter from Jocelyn, so he hadn't paid much attention to the lack of that spark that Jim seemed to exude.
"Not sick." Jim gave a tiny shrug of his shoulder, "Just less hungry then I thought." Something was definitely wrong, as food was a major point of Jim's life. There was, in fact, that small store of food Leonard had found one day in the back of their closet. All non-perishable, long lasting things like protein nibs. Nothing that needed to be cooked, needed water, or any prep at all. He'd thought about asking, but like everything else about Leonard, he'd forgotten it, too wrapped up in his own troubles to think about other people. No wonder he was alone, he mused to himself as he reached across and took Jim's eggroll.
Then it hit him, like a ton of bricks. He wasn't the only one at the table with no home to go to. "What are you doing for the break?" he asked. "Going anywhere?"
"Nah. Plan to go bar hopping, pick up some people, drink away any memories of the break, sober up by the first Monday of the new semester." Jim looked up in the dim lighting of the restaurant, his eyes very blue, almost purple, set against the garish burgundies and reds.
Leonard snorted. "Want some company?"
Jim's look was unreadable, "You really don't want to spend your whole holiday getting wasted. You'll end up drinking away half of med school."
"How the fuck do you think I got through med school, Jim?" Leonard retorted, taking a long swig of his beer. "It's okay, I'll find something to do with myself. Not much for parties anyway... might just go check into some hotel somewhere and get away from people for a while." One of those places people respected privacy, where no one asked why you weren't with your family... somewhere people minded their own damned business. Surely it existed somewhere.
"Fucking expensive, why bother? You could go camping in the woods and get twice the privacy for a hundredth the credits." Jim's mouth made a bit of love to the mouth of his beer bottle. Without having eaten much, it was hitting harder then it normally did. For six years younger, Jim Kirk had one hell of an alcohol tolerance - if he wanted to have it.
"Camping?" Leonard laughed. "What, do I look like a fucking Eagle Scout?" Eyes lingering on Jim's mouth, he bit the inside of his lip, resisting the urge to comment on it. "I don't know the first thing about camping..."
The look on Jim's face turned to one of disbelief, "You're fucking kidding me. Aren't you a Southern boy and they do that shit?"
Leonard responded by flicking a piece of rice at Jim. "Pretty stereotypical of you, asshole. And no, we didn't all do that, like backwoods rednecks." He shrugged. "Just never got into it."
"Real mature, shithead." Jim snapped back, "You probably couldn't survive a day without environmental controls and replicators and shit." He muttered the last bit around the mouth of his beer bottle, taking a swig.
"...'course I could survive it," Leonard rolled his eyes. "How hard can it be, there's nothing to do. I just ask - why would anyone enjoy that when there are perfectly good place with beds and showers around."
Jim leaned back in his seat, tilting the chair at an angle to the floor. He frowned, not saying anything, his finger tapping slowly on the bottle in his hand. "Let's go, then."
Finishing his drink, Leonard could see that Jim was serious... and didn't think he could do it. Pushing away from the table, he stood, tossing his napkin on his plate. "Let's go."
"Hope you're paying, hotshot." Jim smirked, leaving without even a backwards glance at the table.
Pulling out his wallet, Leonard handed his card and the check to the waitstaff, then headed outside to where Jim was standing, waiting for him under a streetlight. It reminded him for a moment of when they'd met, the second time, Jim living on the streets. It occurred to him, late as usual, that Jim probably had a lot of experience with living outside, making his way, finding a place to stay where ever he could, and this might not be the best experience for him to relive. "We don't have to do this, Jim," Leonard said as he approached him. "If you want to go be with your friends, go do that. You don't have to watch over my ass."
It was an honest smirk on Jim's face, giving it some of its usual spark, "I watch your ass all the time, as its a mighty fine one," Jim's voice took on a teasing drawl.
Leonard rolled his eyes, like he always did when Jim made some comment about his various body parts. Waiting for the shuttle to come by and take them back to the campus, he brought it up again. "We don't have to do this," he said as they sat down on one of the seats in the back.
"Maybe I want to." Jim was staring out the window, but his knuckles were white on the bar of the seat in front of him. "Nothing better to do over break, anyway, might as well introduce your ass to some hard livin'."
"Now you're just tryin' to piss me off, Kirk," Leonard said with a chuckle. "Okay, kid, you're on. What do we need?"
A shrug, "Dunno. Never did it with anything."
Well that didn't help. "We need a car or something to get there?" Where ever the fuck they were going... "I mean, what about sleeping bags and shit like that?"
"You leave getting sleeping bags and some matches and shit up to me, you find us a way to get somewhere warm. Deal?" Jim gave Leonard a long look, one that said trust me.
"Deal," Leonard muttered as the shuttle dropped them off, and they headed to their room.
The next morning Leonard made some calls and found them a ride - Zamora down the hall was going to be gone for a week and didn't mind Leonard using his car while he was gone. He'd tossed some clothes into a bag, along with his toothbrush and med kit, not sure what else he'd need, and was waiting for Jim to return from where ever the hell he'd gone off to. When Jim returned, he had two backpacks with him, one on either shoulder. He tossed one at Leonard as soon as he was in sight, "Make good on your end, Bones?"
Leonard jangled the keys in front of Jim's face. "Ready whenever you are."
Jim just smirked and followed Bones out to their ride. He made an odd face when he saw it but just shrug when Leonard teased him about it not being good enough. Jim programmed in their destination, and an eyebrow shot up when it said just how long the drive would be. "Make sure we're really in the middle of no where," Jim sat back when questioned about it.
They drove south, past the cities that dotted the California coast until they hit smaller towns. Stopping in one, they grabbed lunch at a small diner, debating on how much longer it would take and if they should try one of the alternate routes. Finally they were back on their way, music playing softly as the roads went from highway to two-lane to one-lane to a winding dirt road in the midst of some trees. "I believe we've hit middle-of-nowhere, Jim," Leonard called out sarcastically.
"It'll do." Jim replied with just as much sarcasm, stretching out his legs after Leonard parked the car out of the way. Leonard watched Jim take a slow, deep breath before pulling his pack out of the car and without another word go marching off into the woods.
Leonard followed, unsure what, if anything to say. Jim seemed to want to do this, but Leonard couldn't remember ever seeing him more withdrawn and quiet, even in those early days when there was still so much distrust and uncertainly about each other. Eventually he could see Jim stopping ahead, and making his way to his side, Leonard whistled low.
They were standing in front of a clear lake, the surface so smooth it mirrored the clouds in the sky. Leonard swore he could smell the water from here, the air filled with the scents of the trees and dirt and animals. He dropped his bag at his feet. "Wow."
"...Yea." Jim's grin was as bright as the December sun. He dropped his pack as well, "Spot looks as good as any. Let's set up camp."
Camp ended up being a couple of sleeping bags tossed on the ground underneath a large tree and some firewood. There was a bag tossed to the side with snacks, rations, fruit, but nothing that looked like it would really fill them up. Leonard was holding his tongue, sure that any comment he made would be met with ridicule. "You been out this way before?" he asked, kicking some rocks out of the way and sitting down on some springy grass.
"Long time ago I was." Jim laid back on his sleeping bag, closing his eyes as he soaked in the sun. "Enough to remember where it was, at least. Ended up learning a bunch about how to live on the land." There were things that Jim said, like that, little comments that slipped about his past and Leonard wanted to know more, to ask about it all. The first few attempts, a couple months past had been met with silence, so he'd learned to stop asking, and wondered in silence. He didn't like the idea of Jim living on the land, no where to go, but he had to admit, watching him resting over there on his bag, he seemed to know what he was doing.
Jim seemed in no hurry to do much of anything, only pillowing his head with his arms, content in the sunshine. Out here, where there was nothing but the two of them, time seemed to lose its meaning. Just the quiet wind, the birds chirping, the rustle of grass, and their breathing were the only sounds. Nothing fake, false, unnatural, or man made.
It took a while for Leonard to get used to the quiet. After a few minutes he stood up, and began walking around. The woods weren't particularly dense, and there was a lot of plant life, evidence of animals that made their home here. For a moment he considered asking Jim about any dangerous creatures but stopped himself. He'd never hear the end of that. He ended up near the other side of the lake, peering into the water. There were fish in there, and Leonard found himself remembering fishing with his father and grandfather as a boy. When Leonard finally wandered back, Jim was gone. Amazingly, there was a tiny fire going, but little other sign of where the blond had gone. His pack was open though, exposing the edge of something that looked like an old fashion pot.
Sitting back down on the ground in front of the fire, Leonard sighed. He fed little bits of wood and tinder to the flame, watching as it grew bigger and added a few stones to the fire ring. Considering there wasn't much way to tell how much time passed, it was a while before Jim returned. He had something that might have been an old tee shirt wrapped up as a bundle in his arms. "Hey, haven't been eaten by a bear yet? I'm impressed." Jim teased as he sat down, undoing the bundle. He spread open the cloth to reveal different plants and the white creamy caps of mushrooms.
Tossing a pebble at Jim, Leonard began examining the pile. "This is lunch?" He picked up a mushroom, poked at the gills, gave them a sniff. "You're sure they're alright?"
"I can hear your enthusiasm." Jim rolled his eyes, pulling out a knife from his pocket and whipping it open. "I'm sure they're fine. First time I ever came out here, I learned fast which were poisonous. Just eat little bites, just one to start... if it didn't make me sick, I ate a bigger piece... if that didn't make me sick, well either I was not waking up or it was good." He shrugged, and tugged out what was definitely a metal pot from his pack. He began to cut up the mushrooms, his gaze distant.
Leonard nodded, the look in Jim's eyes worrying him as much as that story about discovering poisonous mushrooms by trial and error.
He looked over at the lake. "Wish I'd thought to bring a fishing pole, this would be perfect with some of that trout I saw in there," " Leonard drawled slowly, filling the pot with the mushrooms. "Like this?"
"Never thought about fishing," Jim admitted, looking to the lake, "Never fished before," He glanced over, "Guess you have? Yea... just like that." He pointed to more stuff on the cloth, "Green stuff's kinda like lettuce, and the darker green stuff's... umm, I dunno." A little laugh, "Better lettuce? Never did think to look up what some of this is called."
"I think better lettuce sounds 'bout right," Leonard chuckled. "Yeah, used to fish when I was younger. Granddad has some land, we hunted and fished some." He grinned at the memory. "That more in line of what you think of Southern boys?"
"Ha!" As if Leonard had revealed something amazing, "I knew it was in you." Jim's grin was infectious, "That Southern boy buried all deep in there under layers of booze and gruff and hypos."
"Yeah, somewhere in there," Leonard agreed, laughing at the image. "But Atlanta isn't exactly backwoods, son. We lived in houses, believe it or not, with indoor plumbing even."
"Damn, and here I had this mental image that everyone in the South lived in one of those old tin cans with out-houses," His voice was pure tease as he gestured to the better-than-lettuce, "Start tearing that up, put it in the pot."
Leonard obeyed, ripping up the greens into small pieces and added them to the pot, "You ready for new classes next semester?" he wondered, fascinated at how Jim managed to excel in his classes when he spent so little time actually studying.
"Looking forward to some of them, actually," Jim smirked, finishing the last of the mushrooms. He picked up what looked like an ugly root and started using the edge of the knife to peel it, "Decided to go with tactical."
Bones nodded, not surprised. Jim had that sort of mind. "So, what are you making here?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know what the root was or where Jim had gotten it.
"Just a salad." He pointed to the lettuce, "Can make a real simple soup broth out of this," He held up the root he was cutting into, "And those," A point at the darker better-than-lettuce.
Laughing, Leonard sat back and watched. "So you're telling me that if I want you to eat better I need to drop you off in the middle of nowhere?" There was something about the air here, the sun on their backs and the smell of freshness that stimulated the appetite.
Leonard got a piece of mushroom flung at his forehead for that, "Asshole." But Jim was smirking, carefully cutting into the root to let it fall back onto the cloth. "Should be another pot in my bag. You know how hard it was to get those?" Specially when both pots were marked with the symbol of the Academy.
Come to think of it, so were both sleeping bags... and though Leonard wasn't entirely surprised, he didn't say anything about it. After all, he thought, leaning over and pulling the pot out of Jim's bag and handing it to him, this was like some sort of outdoor training, right? "We'll have to take care of this gear then." He watched and waited as Jim prepared the food, the look of concentration on his face as serious as when he's been coding at the computer lab the night before.
"You were right about the quiet," Leonard told him, looking around. "Can I help with anything?" he finally asked, unsure what to do but wanting to be productive somehow, to feel less like he was being taken care of by the kid.
Jim nodded, "I'll take you out once we've eaten and show you what I found, and stuff, but for now, could you fill that pot?" He pointed to the empty one. "Take the cloth with you. Wash it in the lake, wring it out, then put it over the pot. Scoop the water with your hands into the pot, let the cloth filter out gunk. Fire'll take care of the rest."
Leonard followed Jim's instructions, twitching a little at the idea of cooking in lake water but without any other real alternatives, he'd trusted Jim's experience. "Here ya go," he said several minutes later, carrying the water pot back to Jim.
"Check this out." Jim pulled up two sticks with Y shapes in them, and slammed them into the soft ground on either side of the fire. Another stick across, and he slid the handle of the pot over it... and now it hung over the fire. He gave a fierce grin, almost laughing, "You make one joke about me knowing any of this?" He looked up, "And I'll make sure there are rumors that haunt you for the rest of your days at the Academy."
"What, that you can take care of your ass when push comes to shove?" Leonard admired the contraption. "Nothin' to be ashamed of, Jim. Look at you, you're feeding me out here, albeit twigs and berries and shit, but still, its probably nutritious," he laughed, ducking out of the way of the rock that was thrown at him at that comment.
"Twigs and berries..." Jim grumbled playfully, "Should just keep all my twigs and berries and not give you a damn thing."
"That's what makes you a better person than me, Kirk," Leonard grinned, leaning back on his hands. Fuck, he was getting hungry! "You wouldn't let me just sit here and starve."
Which earned Leonard a surprisingly good puppy face, "...you'd let me starve?" The tone of his voice was somewhere between completely serious and wibbly puppy.
"Yeah, Jim, because that's been the extent of our friendship so far, hasn't it, me not feeding you like the stray cat you are." Moaning and groaning aside, Leonard was always pushing food at Jim, who was still a good fifteen pounds underweight. "Dammit, just last week you polished off those cookies that were for me!" He looked around for a bowl or plate or something. "Now hurry up and cook my twigs."
"Not a stray cat... and you didn't label the cookies! I didn't know!" Jim laughed, adding some of the nuts and fruit to the salad. "Look, gourmet food, so shut the fuck up Southern trailer boy." He nudged the pot in Leonard's direction.
Leonard's face dropped, looking incredibly hurt. "My grandma lived in a trailer," he said quietly, poking through his food as he took a bite.
"Er," Jim blinked in Leonard's direction, "...I didn't... mean anything...."
But Leonard couldn't hold it in any longer, busting out laughing. "Oh god, the look on your face," he laughed, almost cackling. He hadn't laughed so hard in months. "Fuck, that was funny," he sighed, grinning over at Jim. "Sorry, Jim, couldn't resist," he added, taking another bite of his food. These twigs and berries were pretty fucking good.
Jim reached out and calmly took the pot away from Leonard.
He then calmly picked up Leonard, who was still so busy laughing he couldn't put up much of a struggle, try as he might.
Then calmly dumped him in the lake.
It cooled off quickly once the sun set, and the tree boughs swayed in the soft breeze. Leonard lay on his sleeping bag, listening to the sounds of the animals talking to each other, and wondered if there was another human being around them for miles.
His wet clothes were hanging over a bush, the setting December sun not strong enough to dry them out from that afternoon's plunge into the lake, courtesy of Jim Kirk. Still, he thought, recalling that look on Jim's face -it was totally worth it.
Turning over, he lay on his side and looked over at Jim. Jim was staring up at the sky where he lay in his sleeping bag, barely seen in the low light of their banked fire. He looked calm, content, in a way Leonard rarely ever got to see him. There was a smile ghosting on his face, one of those tiny unconscious ones that came from good thoughts.
"You like this shit, don't you?" Leonard asked quietly, not wanting to disturb Jim, but feeling like this was one of those times when the barriers were down and they could actually connect.
"...sometimes getting away from the city helps." Was the somewhat cryptic answer, "Spent almost a third of my life living on my own wits, so sometimes having all that shit at my fingertips in the dorms feels... weird."
Not the answer Leonard expected at all, but pared down, under the layers of bravado he was coming to discover the real Jim Kirk, who was as much a paradox as Leonard had ever seen. Roared into the Academy and tested out of all the first-year classes that the other cadets struggled through after a life living from hand to mouth. What kind of person could do that?
Even who he was seemed mired in mystery. It had been a full month after Jim had started staying regularly in his dorm room that he'd learned that Jim, his Jim was Jim Kirk, son of George Kirk. Even then, it hadn't been Jim who'd mentioned it, but one of the other guys on the floor. Jim could have walked into any class or office on that campus and demanded (and probably got) some special consideration because of that last name, but he hadn't. Not even once, so far as Leonard knew.
"You were right, it's better than some hotel," he said, looking back up at the sky. Millions of stars, and he wondered if he would ever visit any of them. His stomach tightened at that. "Hope you aren't missing anything too fun back in the city, know you had some plans."
There was silence after that, where they both stared at stars. "I lied."
Leonard tilted his head, brows furrowed though Jim couldn't see it. "What do you mean?"
"Didn't have any plans. Thought you were leaving for the holidays and I'd have the room to myself." A quiet laugh in the night, "Was going to finish up my coding, then figure out what to do next."
"What do you usually do for Christmas?" Leonard asked.
"...promise not to laugh?"
"Yeah," Leonard said after a moment.
"Wish I felt better about that pause." Jim shifted audibly in his sleeping bag, maybe a shrug, "Usually was in bars, playing for tips."
"You think I'd laugh at that?"
"Yea." Blunt.
Shit, that hurt. He'd thought that... well, whatever he thought, it was clearly wrong. Kirk didn't trust him now anymore than he had the day they met. "Whatd'ya play?"
"Anything but Christmas shit. People in bars don't want to hear that holiday spirit everyone else seems to fake." There was a deep hatred in that voice, all directed towards the non-existent entity known as 'the holidays'.
Leonard understood that feeling... it wasn't the first time Christmas had seemed hollow - that had been the year his mother had died. But this holiday season - it was such a contrast to what he'd had - big house all decorated, a real tree with presents for his baby girl, everyone happy and laughing...
Shaking that memory away, Leonard cleared his throat. "I mean, what instrument to do play?"
"Guitar. Picked it up when I was a kid."
Leonard smiled at that. "I can see that... bet you're good at it, too." He thought about Jim, all he knew about him, which was scant little. "You ain't got any family out there, Jim?"
"Nah." It dropped into silence, something almost tense.
No one at all. Made sense, if Leonard was his next of kin... that still put a smile on this face, thinking about that. "Quite a sad pair, aren't we, Jim?" he grunted. Silence answered him. "Jim?" Leonard shifted up to lean on his elbow and looked over. There was Jim, eyes closed, head still pillowed by his arms, a smile on his lips but obviously asleep from the slow draws of his breathing. "Great, thanks Jim." He muttered as he laid back down, "So boring you fell asleep mid-conversation."
Still, Leonard thought as he looked up into that starlit sky, this was a thousand times better than he thought Christmas would be this year.
December 2256
"No, I don't understand, Jim... how could you pack the fishing poles, but forget the bait?" Bones was digging through the bag once more, as if the bag of bait might magically appear if he emptied the bag one more time. "How the hell are we supposed to catch anything?"
"The fuck Bones?! I've never gone fishing before in my life, how the hell was I supposed to be the one to think of bait?" Jim glared at Bones, shaking the fishing pole in his hand, "What do you even use as bait for fishing?" He tried to imagine what a slimy toothless creature might eat, "Cheese?" So much for that whole 'Kirk's a genius' thing.
"I had some great nightcrawlers, bought'em from the same place I got the poles, they've been in the fridge unit for a week. How could you miss them?" he grumbled, looking around at their stores of food... "I don't know what else to use. Shit," he said, throwing down the pole and sitting on the ground, staring at the lake.
"Don't you think I would have noticed some fucking worms in the fridge?" Jim stopped, then gave Leonard a weird look, "...Why did you keep them in the fridge anyway?"
"The container said 'keep refrigerated', what the fuck do I know about worms." The whole trip thus far had seemed to one misstep after another, starting with getting out late because Bones couldn't find the new lantern he'd bought specifically for this trip and ending up with the missing bait. "We were planning on eating fish, we didn't bring much else to eat."
Jim stared at the surface of the lake, tapping his foot, "Well, worms live in the ground. Couldn't we just try digging for them? Or find something else we've got with us to use as bait?"
Bones sent a glare in Jim's direction, but admitted that it was going to be one or the other - or this was going to be a hungry vacation.
Ever since their impromptu camping trip last year they'd unconsciously planned for this months, without mentioning it aloud, just taking it for granted that this Christmas they'd do the same - go off somewhere and hide from everyone and everything they didn't want to deal with. Even the rain that surprised them that last night of their first trip, soaking them and all their possessions to the bone, hadn't deterred them from planning another outing this year.
In fact, they were better prepared this year, having picked up some gear here and there- a tent, water purification pills, a small tarp. None of which mattered one damned bit when shit got left behind. Grabbing the bag of snacks, Bones headed off to the lake. Jim rolled his eyes and followed. "Maybe the worms crawled up your ass." He muttered.
"I heard that," Bones grumbled as he walked off down the edge of the lake to a quiet spot around the corner.
His attitude was much improved when he returned an hour later with two fat trout. Bones didn't say anything, just carried them proudly and placed them gently, like treasured possessions on a plate. Jim gaped, looking at them... then poking it with a finger. He wrinkled a nose, "Huh. So, you end up digging up worms for these things?"
Bones shook his head. "Just tried different things. The protein bars didn't stay on the hook, and they outright refused the string cheese. I struck gold with these, though," Bones grinned, holding up an opened bag of puffed cheese curls. "Suckers fucking loved these."
"WHAT!?" Jim jerked up, looking terrified, "You used my CHEESE CURLS!?" He stared at Bones in horror, "What's wrong with you!?"
The grin on his face fell. "Nothin's wrong, Jim. C'mon, you should see how they took to these. Besides, this stuff is crap anyway, terrible for you," he said, tossing the cheese curls back into their food bag. "It's the only thing they would eat, Jim," he added, exasperated at the look of despair on Jim's face.
"...but... my cheese curls." Jim pouted, sitting down. "...good thing I used the booze you brought so we could cook up the fish. Beer works great."
The light left Bones' eyes. "How much of the beer did you use?" he asked carefully. He hadn't brought all that much, hard as it was to pack and carry on their motorcycle.
"There's 'bout half a pack left." Jim remarked without much thought.
"Bullshit," Bones whispered hoarsely. "Not for two fucking fish..."
Blue eyes looked up... then he suddenly burst out laughing, "Fuck, you looked like someone pissed in your bowl of cereal. I'm just yanking your chain for you using my cheese curls."
"You, Jim, are an asshole," Bones muttered, taking a deep breath. "Okay, so you're cooking them, does that mean you're gonna clean the fish or I need to do that?"
Jim pointed at the fish, "I have no idea how to clean them. I did bring a flat pan so we can cook them though, so if you can make them look like fish instead of fish, I can do something with them."
"I'll see what I can do," Bones answered, grabbing them and heading out toward the water's edge. He found a flat rock and began scraping the scales off the sides. Once that was done, he pulled out his laser scalpel, and began cutting the fish. "You got a problem with me leaving the heads on?" he called back out to Jim.
"We don't eat the heads, do we?" Jim called in return.
Bones looked back up, exasperated. "I don't even know 'bout you sometimes, Kirk," he mumbled under his breath. Cutting the heads and tail off, he slit them open and cleaned them, bringing back two fish fillets ready for the frying pan. "Here ya go, sweetheart," he said sarcastically handing the fish to Jim.
"Thanks, honey." Jim rolled his eyes as he took the filets and put them on the pan he had pulled out of his bag, setting the pan on top of the rock-pile he had built in the fire. It was hollow in the middle and embers fell into it, giving them... well, an odd but working source of heat for this. He used a fork to prod at the white fish.
Bones settled cross-legged on the ground next to Jim, tearing up greens for a salad. He was quiet, but not in a bad way. They'd developed habits now, two people who weren't the easiest in the world to live with somehow found a way to live with each other. Not a lot of talking, but that didn't mean they were alone. They were together a lot of the time... they just didn't have to talk. It was something they didn't talk about, but instinctively knew. They didn't generally want to talk about things in their past, so they didn't. Didn't bring up the things that hurt and still bled and neither did the other, so together... was some of the most peace they had had. They knew each others' boundaries and didn't push past them. They could be themselves.
Most of the time, they wanted to be anyone else but themselves it seemed like.
"Think its done." Jim said quietly over the crackling fire. He nudged something against Bones' hand - a bottle of something that wasn't beer. It was a bottle of something clear, "Figured maybe this year we'd spice it up a little," Jim gave that infectious grin. "Forgot the shot glasses, though."
Bones looked up in the sky. It was early but hell, at least it wasn't morning, he thought, opening it and taking a swig. "Fuck," he thought as it burned going down. "Whatcha got in here, gasoline?" he asked, wincing.
"Good ol' fashion moonshine, straight from the engineering students," Jim laughed at his own statement, swiping back the bottle and taking a drink from it as well. He licked his lips at the end, then nudged an actual plate (another thing on the list of stuff they had remembered to bring this time) in Leonard's direction. Salad and filet, amazingly better then they tended to eat on campus.
Bones took another sip, prepared this time for the kick. It still hit him hard, and he laughed at the look on Jim's face. "Shut up, kid," he grinned, filling his plate with their bounty.
They ate in the peaceful quiet of their camping area, the only sounds to be heard were the wind, the water, the animals and them, finishing their dinner with gusto. It was hard to tell what time it was when he was out here, and Bones liked to try and guess the time by the light in the sky, rather than look at his datapad, still packed in his travel bag.
"15:45," he announced proudly, looking to Jim for his guess.
Jim arched a brow, then laughed, "Nice you'd think I'd break out the alcohol that early. It's at least 17:00."
"Bullshit," Bones told him, standing and heading into the tent. A moment later he exited, a frown on his face as he dropped back on the ground near the fire.
"I was right." He said very proudly, laying back.
Bones didn't respond, just took another drink from the bottle. He exhaled loudly as it burn down his throat. He dropped a small bag between him and Jim, filled to the brim with cookies. Jim let out one very excited sound and snagged a cookie, "Did you slave over a hot stove to make this?" He waved the cookie with a grin.
Bones snorted. "No, one of the nurses from the clinic made them, brought me some." He'd thrown away the holiday plate they'd come on.
"Good, I'm pretty sure if you tried to bake it'd be poison." Jim teased, happily nomming on his cookie. He shifted, leaning back on his elbow, staring up at the clear sky. "They said we're not supposed to have any rain this time, thank fuck."
"Wouldn't mind it so much, long as we got the tent," Bones replied, chewing on his own cookie. "Fish usually bite right after a good rain."
"Got those two big ones, how greedy can you get?" Jim laughed, "I might even be willing to sacrifice more cheese curls for them... can't beat fresh fish." He swiped the bottle and took a long swig that had him gasping at the end.
"Jim Kirk, my hero," Bones said sarcastically as he pushed another cookie into his mouth. Jim just gave an agreeing nod.
When late evening rolled around, and about half of the bottle of liquor later, both men were pleasantly... mostly... completely drunk. Jim was laid out on his sleeping bag by the fire, grinning lazily as he poked the fire with a long stick. Bones was trying to count the stars, and hadn't yet made it past thirty before getting lost and having to start over again. "Hey Jim," Bones called out from his sleeping bag on the opposite side of the fire.
"Mmm...?" Jim looked over with the slightly dopey look of someone who was drunk and knew they were drunk and just didn't care.
"You know any of those?" he asked, pointing up at the sky. Bones could find a couple planets, if they were out, and knew a few of the major stars but he'd never been interested in them enough to learn about them. The prospect of traveling in space wasn't one he looked forward to at all.
Jim tilted his head up and squinted, then smirked, "Would, but they're all blurry dots." He swayed a little, then pointed, "Red one's Vulcan."
"Vulcan," he repeated, taking another swig. Fuck... people lived out there... and one day he would too.
Shit. "You ever been out in space?" Bones asked, curious.
"...Yea, long time ago. Not long or anything." Jim licked his lips, "Hell, was born there."
"Oh yeah..." Bones winced a little, though it was hidden in the darkness. "...forgot 'bout that, man. I mean, I just didn't think, I forget sometime that was you, ya know?" Fuck, Bones told himself, maybe he just needed to shut up when he was drunk.
Jim was silent, for a while, before saying quietly, "...never wanted to be a Kirk." He murmured into the silence between them. "Wish my Dad hadn't gone and made himself some fucking hero."
"Hey," Bones said sleepily. "Don't say that. He saved a lotta people."
"...ruined the rest of my fuckin' life in the process. Mom never got over his death." Jim was staring into the fire, "She hated Sam and I."
"Who's Sam?" Bones asked, rolling over to one side.
"Brother." Came the quiet reply.
Wait - brother? Jim told him he didn't have any family... "Fuck, Jim, if you got a brother, why don't you spend Christmas with him? Why you out here with me if you got real fam'ly?"
Jim shifted by the fire and sat up, looking over to Bones, "Haven't seen him since I was eleven." He shrugged as if it was no big deal. "Don't know if he's still alive."
"Oh." Bones went quiet, not sure what else to say. "Oh," he repeated, a memory flicking through his head. Watching a funeral on the news reel when he was a little boy. A little boy... and the baby. Fuck, Jim was the baby. Bones rolled on to his back and sighed. Jim said nothing, but grabbed the bottle that was smeared with their fingerprints and chugged some more of it. It burned, from the pinching of his face.
Bones sat up, too quickly, and his head spun. "Shit," he muttered, reaching out to the bottle and taking another drink. "You know," he said quietly, "we can find him, Jim, if you want. I can help you."
"...Don't want to." Jim spat the words, slurred and angry. "He never looked for me, never came back for me, never contacted me. I sent out letters to him... never a single response. He's dead or gone, and obviously wants to stay there."
"Shit, Jim..." Bones sighed, looking over at Jim. "...'m sorry." He shook his head. "Fuck 'm, if he didn't look for you. You don't need him."
"...Don't know what I need." Jim whispered, standing up, swaying badly on his feet.
"You don't need a broken leg, man, so sit down. Fuck," he groaned, getting up and making his unsteady way to where Jim was standing. "What, you need a piss or somthin'?"
"...just wanna fucking walk." Blue eyes turned on him, "Fucking think a little, s'bad?" He rubbed his hand under his nose.
Bones rolled his eyes as he grabbed Jim's shoulder. "You're not gonna walk b'yourself, hold on."
"If y'hold on, I'm gonna fall over." Jim protested, staggering.
Jesus... "...'kay, I'll let you go, but 'm followin' you." Bones kept close to Jim, waiting to catch him when he inevitably fell. It came sooner then expected, when suddenly they staggered straight into each other and sent each other down to the ground in a sprawl of limbs and clothing. Jim grunted in some pain as he tried to get free of that sprawl, Bones' elbow in his ribs. "Fuck, get off me," Bones groaned, rolling to his back so at least Jim wasn't stabbing his side.
"C'mon, stop wigglin' around," Bones held onto Jim's shoulders as they lay there, Bones feeling as if the earth was turning under him. Fuck, he hadn't been this drunk in a long time. Jim stared up at Bones, blue eyes swirling with the liquor, lips parted as he panted.
Then he laughed, "Whoa, you're still moving," He said with a wide grin, his head rocking back and forth a little.
Something about the way Jim said that, with that smile made Bones laugh. "Goddamn, Jim, I'm sorry as shit about your family," he said with a long sigh, "but I'm fuckin' glad you're here with me tonight."
"Glad too," Jim's grin grew, "What 'bout your fam'ly? Huh? Why don't you do the Christmas shit with that kid'a'yours? Supposed to like this stuff..."
Bones was quiet for a long time, laying back with his eyes closed, so long that Jim started to think that he'd fallen asleep. "M'family's all dead," he told Jim quietly. "Just Joanna," he added in a little sing-song voice, smiling as he thought about her, "but she's with her mother. They do big Christmas, can't mess with that."
"Sure ya can. Yer... her dad and all." Jim protested Bones' statement.
"Fuck, Jim, she's five... they got trees and presents and fireplace for Santa." Bones got quiet again, as if imagining it all. "That's 'mportant to her right now, and 'm not fuckin' that up for her."
Jim suddenly slapped Bones, hard. "What the fuck's wrong with you, man? Most imp..port'nt thing is her daddy."
Bones looked up at Jim with dark, angry eyes. With a growl he rolled over, and grabbed Jim's hands, pinning them down. "Don't you ever hit me again, kid," he spat out, looking down at Jim. "You don't know shit 'bout me or any of this."
Shaking a little, Bones let go of Jim's hands, sitting up, facing away from him. "Least I'd have some fuckin' balls to see my kid on Christmas." Jim muttered.
Bones' shoulders dropped. He stood, and turned, wiping his face as he faced Jim. "Stand up." Jim's body tightened up, and from the expression on his face, he knew what was coming. He still stood up, facing Bones with a sour expression. Bones waited a beat, then took the swing, connecting his right fist with Jim's chin. Jim staggered back, a hand coming up to rub his chin.
He spat some blood to the side, then gave Bones a dark look. "Feel better now?"
"...a little," Bones lied. His hands in fists at his side, he just stared at Jim, breathing hard a moment before he turned and walked toward the lake.
December 2257
When Bones came out of his last class before the holiday break, it was both a surprise and not one that Jim was sitting outside in the parking lot. New to this year's trip was a small trailer attached to the back of his cycle. There was an ice chest tied down to the front of it, and from the grin on Jim's face, that trailer was already stuffed with their supplies. Jim slipped off as he approached and popped open the container on the back of the bike, and pulled out something black and tugged something off the side of the cycle itself.
"Merry Christmas, Bones." Jim tossed both items at him. One was a leather jacket that matched the one Jim normally wore, and the second was a sleekly designed cycle helmet. "Let's go, Mexico awaits."
Bones picked up the jacket, feeling its weight and assessing in his head how much this cost, without the additional price of the helmet, which was clearly not cheap. He gave Jim a little glare but slid the jacket over his shoulders, the heaviness feeling good on him. From the look of it all, Jim had packed them down good, everything that they'd picked up for the trip this year... and over the past two years their camping gear had grown numerous enough that they kept it in a storage unit on campus. Settling on the back of the cycle behind Jim, Bones put his helmet on and leaned in. "Thanks, kid... let's go."
Jim let out a cheer and started the cycle, pulling the cycle out of the parking lot and towards the nearest highway going South.
Jim drove the first two hours, then they switched off and Bones drove the next two, and so on and so on until, eight hours later, they were well into Mexico. Jim had found the spot for this year's trip through the galactic network, a mention of it along with a vague address and directions from that point. Thus after a half an hour of Bones cursing out unmarked roads that Jim took over driving and found the lake within ten minutes. (Along with a snarky remark about how at least Bones looked good...)
Camping had become their pet project, without a doubt. They had planned this time - gear, location, food, and even went so far as to check the weather out ahead of time. Jim went about his usual methods of making a fire, as Bones decided to take on the pains of getting up their tent. It only took two tries this year, a new personal best. The fire would be their main source of light after dark, smoke to keep away any insects, and a bit of added warmth against the light nip in temperature that came at night. It wouldn't go below 55 degrees, but after years in California they preferred the added warmth.
Between their later start and the length of time it took to get there, it was nearly dark by the time they finished setting up camp. Bones shook the tent, making sure it was steady and secure. "Fuck, I'm hungry, but I don't wanna go fishing this late..." Even if he caught one soon, it would be a while before it was cleaned and cooked. Pulling out their snack bag, he began digging out some muffins he'd packed. "Hey," he called out to Jim, tossing the bag at him. "Eat."
"Yes, Mom." Jim called out teasingly, digging into the muffin as he leaned back in a small folding portable chair.
Bones tossed himself on the ground, looking over at Jim. In the light of the fire there was something about his face... a satisfied sort of smile, a new look - there were times when Bones saw his friend and could really and truly picture him in charge of some ship someday. A maturity that came from not just surviving but thriving. Bones still called him 'kid' from time to time, but the nickname meant less and less everyday. Soon, couple of years maybe, Jim would outrank him, how fucking crazy was that...
But Bones was proud of him, and all he'd done. Not that he could tell Jim that, he'd never met anyone who couldn't take a genuine compliment as badly as Jim...
Jim ate the muffin like an apple, nose wrinkled, teeth showing, large bites. He looked completely at home here, but looked just as home in the captain's chair the two times he had tried to beat the Kobayashi Maru. He kicked a leg out, then glanced over, "Can I get a beer?"
Bones tossed Jim a bottle, and opened one for himself. He looked around as well as he could in the growing darkness, and grinned. "You found a good spot here, Jim. Remind me to not doubt you anymore," he drawled slowly, taking a long swig from his bottle, hearing Jim pop off the cap on his own.
Bones got pouted at, "Doubting me? How can you? I'm always right!" Said in such a proud tone it was hard to catch the undertone of I am speaking pure bullshit.
It was that tone that made Jim so popular, that unbelievable confidence that would be annoying if it weren't coupled with ability, and even then it could get annoying if you didn't know him well enough to be fascinated, like Bones was. Not that he'd admit it, but the longer he knew Jim, the more he liked him, and now, in the third year of their friendship, Bones couldn't imagine a day when they wouldn't be friends. It was hard to remember a time when they hadn't been friends, either.
"Was thinkin', there's a little village only about twenty minutes drive, maybe we should go into town at some point and have a big feast. Visit the sites or something," Jim's voice made it clear he wasn't set on the idea, just throwing it out between them.
"Yeah, that sounds good," Bones replied, mouth full of muffin. "Maybe breakfast one day, some real Mexican food, that would be terrific," he sighed. Fuck, it had been a busy autumn for both of them, the classes getting harder, the responsibilities increased, and it left them with less time to just hang out in their dorm room. "You get all your projects done?"
Jim lowered his hand from his mouth, the muffin dangling in his fingertips, "Yea, starting a new one though." He closed his eyes, "Need to review those tapes from the last 'Maru recording."
Bones pulled out another muffin. "...'ow come?" Bones asked as he chewed, curious. It had been crazy, of course, for Jim to take the test a second time. No one passed the Kobayashi Maru.
"...Wanna see what I did wrong." Jim muttered quietly. "Gonna find a way to beat it."
Nodding, Bones kept eating. "Yeah," he said, not really believing Jim. No one tried a third time. After he finished he leaned back on his elbows, stretching as he popped his back - they'd been on that bike for a fucking long time that day. He frowned, thinking about the classes he'd be assigned in addition to his hospital duties. "This upcoming semester's gonna be a bitch."
"What do they have ya doing?" Jim asked, eyes opening as he looked over, taking another bite of his muffin and washing it down with a gulp of beer. Then, suddenly, he grinned and got up. He went digging into the trailer of the cycle, obviously looking for something. He came back after a minute or so like he was holding the holy grail - behind his back. "Guess what I got special for this year's trip?"
"Starting Xenobiology rotations," Bones sighed, "and some class in common Federation languages, why I don't fucking know but they're making me." He finished his beer and sat up. "Whatcha got there?"
"Because it's a requirement to graduate, learning another language... I can help you with that." Jim gave a little jostle of something - something metal. "Come on, guess!" Complete with a sly grin.
Bones mumbled, "...gonna take you up on that." He had absolutely no head for foreign earth languages... and while medical staff were suppsed to be verse in some basic words and phrases in several of them, Bones had never been able to get past a few vocabulary words. Listening to Jim speak Vulcan, Orion, or Andorian always made him shake his head and laugh.
Guess... Bones hated Jim's fucking guessing games, but he wouldn't just let him give up. Metal. "It's a penlight."
Jim rolled his eyes, and pulled it around. It was an old fashion metal coffee drip pot, "Found it in an antique store." He gave a brilliant grin, and brought around his other hand, "And some strong as hell pre-ground coffee."
Bones looked over at the pot. "Lemme see that," he asked, reaching out for the coffee pot. It was old as shit, yeah, and Bones could smell that metallic tang about it. "You brought me coffee," he said happily, a grin on his face.
"Sure did," Jim smirked fiercely, "Do I get your eternal gratitude for this?"
"What did you have in mind, kid?" Bones asked, raising an eyebrow and giving Jim a teasing grin of his own. "Cause you know, I do love me some coffee."
Jim slowly walked forward, leaning over Bones and murmuring, "Well, you're an intelligent man, Doctor... I'm sure you can think of something."
Fuck, Jim was sex on legs... Bones was more aware than almost anyone on campus about Jim's success rate among the cadets, but still, he wasn't ever really prepared for that raw sexuality to be aimed at him, even playfully. Jim used to flirt with him a lot, back when they first met but it had dwindled down as the months and years went by. He honestly didn't think Jim meant it when he came on to him, as he never seemed to really try that hard, and in the back of his head Bones felt like Jim saw him as a replacement for his brother, someone safe who wouldn't leave him.
Bones accepted that, and was more than happy to be whatever Jim needed him to be... but when Jim looked at him like that ... fuck. "I seem to be drawing a blank, Jim," he grinned.
Jim leaned in even closer, enough that Bones could smell the pumpkin of the muffin and the hops of the beer on Jim's breath. Their lips almost brushed, "Means... I must be doing my job," He whispered.
"You must be pretty lonely," Bones answered back, not backing away, "if you're looking for fun with an old guy like me." Bones grabbed his bottle and started to take a swig from it. As he lowered the bottle down, before he could pull it again from his mouth, Jim was right there. Jim ran the tip of his tongue up the neck of the bottle and ringed the mouth.
"...Don't see any old man. Just you." His voice was a quiet husk.
It was a good thing he wasn't any drunker, Bones thought, shivering inside, or he'd be dragging Jim inside that tent and fucking the shit out of him... and that would probably be the end of their friendship. But fuck, Kirk was good at what he did, and knew exactly what he was doing to win this round. Bones knew that he'd push and push him until he gave up or gave in...
So Bones watched him tongue-fuck his beer bottle and sighed. "Yeah, just me," he repeated casually, taking the bottle back and finishing it, closing his eyes as he swallowed. "Coffee should be good in the morning, right?"
A soft chuckle and Jim moved back to his side of the fire, "Damn right. Made sure it was nice and strong. You can get a caffeine rush off the smell alone."
There was safety now that Jim was further away, and Bones relaxed. The images were still in his mind of Jim and that fucking beer bottle. Shit, he thought, laying back down onto the ground. Silence, comfortable for one person and not for the other, reigned for several moments. Bugs chirped from the edge of the lake, the fire crackled. Jim pulled something out of his pocket and fiddled with it, frowning, before unfolding something. It was a small folded white... paper? Leonard leaned over, watching, until Jim had finished setting it up.
"Remember that movie we were supposed to see but never got to? Downloaded it to this," He waved something in the air between them that looked like a tiny padd, "And now we can watch it." He put it down on the ground and hit a green glowing button, and it projected up onto the little screen he had set up. "Gotta make do when you don't have a wall to project on."
Bones gave him an approving grunt, and they spent the next two hours watching phasers blazing and kidnapping plots broken up by the pilot hero who somehow managed to destroy his enemy's stronghold and end up in bed with the alien princess. He liked watching Jim as much as the movie. The kid was unable to sit still, moving, twitching, his feet fidgeting with every action sequence, as if he were imaging himself there doing it better. By the end of the movie, Jim turned to Bones and grinned.
"Worth every second. That was great. They have no idea about how stuff like that should go down but still - Derek was a good hero for this." Jim bounced a little in place, then froze. He wrinkled his nose, wiping something from it before looking up at the sky, "...Shit, don't tell me it's gonna rain. It was supposed to be clear tonight!"
Looking up at the sky as it started drizzling down on him. "Guess that tent's comin' in handy tonight at least." He dragged his sleeping bag inside, along with some of the other gear that didn't need to get wet. Pulling off his clothes, he flopped on top of his bag and chuckled, watching as Jim was doing the same. "Always somethin' on these trips, isn't it?" he yawned.
"Fucking hell, yea..." Jim grumbled about the drizzle and sat down on his own sleeping bag. He held up the device they had been watching the movie on, "I've got a few more movies on this thing..." He suddenly cursed and vanished out through the flaps of the tent. He came back later, now a bit drippy, looking annoyed, "Fire and the wood's got a cover over it since we can't do jack shit with wet wood."
Bones tossed a towel at him. "Don't get into that bag wet, you'll never get the smell out," he mumbled, yawning. Looking over at Jim, who didn't look happy anymore, Bones sat back on his elbows. "Sorry, you need any more help?"
"I need tons of it," Jim laughed, and he started to strip out of his clothes before working on drying himself off with the towel.
Snorting at that, Bones rolled back over. "Night, Jim," he called out, tucking his arm under his pillow and closing his eyes. Soon he could hear Jim's soft breathing, the little noises he made when he slept.
It was hot in there, but Bones slept like the dead for most of the night, his sleeping bag open. He dreamt, images of the previous day, the cycle ride drive down, the heat of the Mexican landscape, warm even in the winter... and Jim, Jim under him, on top of him, behind him. Jim naked and wanton and making these noises every time Bones touched his skin.
Flipping around, Bones sighed. He stretched out, mostly sleeping, and hard, so hard it hurt.
One hand trailed down to his cock and squeezed, the images in his head now of Jim, kneeling in front of him, looking up at him with those 'fuck me' eyes as he sucked Bones' cock, his head bobbing up and down. Fuck, it was good, he thought, thrusting slowly into his hand, Jim's mouth hot as a furnace as Bones held his head in place, fucking that mouth, Jim's lips stretched wide around him.
Forgetting where he was, forgetting there was someone in the tent with him, Bones just groaned aloud as he touched himself.
When Jim woke up, it took him a few minutes to pull his mind together. He gave a slow, lazy stretch in his sleeping bag and breathed in deeply. The air felt good, crisp... like after a rain storm. Hell, he loved being out in nature again. Just doing this after the hell that was the last semester almost made it worth his w--
Something caught his attention. Jim went silent, waiting to hear it again, ears straining in the silence. He caught it again moments later, and he slowly turned over in his sleeping bag. It took him a good few sleepy seconds to realize what he was witnessing. There was a steady, sluggish movement at groin-level in Bones' sleeping bag, and Jim heard the quiet groan that followed his discovery. ...Fuck, he's jerking off... He knew he should have turned over right that second, put his back to Bones and gave him some semblance of privacy. After all, wasn't the first time one or the other of them had caught the other doing just that sort of thing in their dorm room.
But.... this time? He was only inches from Bones, listening to those quiet sounds echoing in his ears. He risked a glance to Bones' face, and blinked when he saw the other's face still relaxed, eyes closed. Is he asleep? Jim wondered to himself, licking his lips. Couldn't deny that his body was responding to those sounds. Hell, he'd wanted Bones practically from their very first meeting. It had just gotten worse after that, every time Bones had denied him... until, well, it just been stupid to keep trying. Didn't mean he didn't still love to tease the hell out of Bones when he got the chance, didn't love to tease himself with glimpses and, well, exactly what he was doing now...
...Fuck.
He reached down and slowly slid his hand around his own cock, fisting it slowly. He was already half hard just from listening, the desire to crawl up there and unzip that sleeping bag, nuzzle Bones' cock and suck him off until he cried out.
Bones twisted around, his back arching slowly as he stretched and swallowed. "Fuck," Jim heard him whispered, breathing hard, moving as if he were trying to hurry.
Jim went very still, his hand freezing where it squeezed tight around his cock. He forced his breath to slow down, pretending to remain asleep. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck. He just listened silently, his body almost quivering with how turned on he was.
Bones' hand moved faster, his breathing coming in soft pants now, eyes shut tightly.
"Ah, yeah J-" Bones groaned, quiet as a whisper, his body shaking as he pumped twice more into his hand and came with an anguished grunt. It took every bit of willpower for Jim not to either whimper or come or whimper while coming as he listened to that finale. His cock was complaining about the grip he had holding onto it, trying to physically hold back what he didn't want to have happen.
Jim could hear Bones sighing, rolling around, shifting as he sat up. A moment later and he heard the tent flap open and Jim was alone in the tent. It didn't take long for him to throw open the sleeping bag and rock up into his own hand, pressing his forearm against his lips and biting into it to muffle any cries. He came harder then he could remember in years, his whole body shaking with the force of it. He fell back against the ground, eyes closed as he let his forearm fall. His breathing was hard, and his body had turned into jello. Just a minute... Jim allowed himself to recover, also giving Bones that minute of privacy, before he got up. He tried to figure out if what he had just done was wrong instead of just being super fucked up. Bones had made it damn clear that he didn't want anything to do with James T. Kirk and sex. He did his best to respect that, even if he failed some of the time.
Climbing to his feet proved to be an effort. Jim let out a breath as he finally stood in the tent, grabbing the towel he had used last night to dry himself off and wiping his hand and stomach off. He'd give it a fast wash in the lake. The towel was flipped to lay over his shoulder before he left the tent-- fuck.
The tarp he had set up last night hadn't held. He saw it dangling in a nearby tree instead of protecting the firewood like he had attempted to do.
"Not gonna start a fire with that," Bones called out, coming from around the corner. His hair and face were wet, as if he'd been washing up.
"...Nope." Jim looked to Bones, then gave a lazy grin, "How 'bout a ride into town for some breakfast? Just give me a minute to dunk my ass in the lake."
Bones stretched, arms high above his head. "Yeah," he agreed. "Yeah, that sounds good. I'm hungry enough to eat a horse this morning. Gonna get dressed," he added, grinning over at Jim before heading back into the tent.
...Well, one disaster averted. Breakfast sounded good. Breakfast with Bones sounded better.
Three years, three holiday breaks...(or what Kirk and Bones did for Christmas at the Academy)
Dec 2255
Classes weren't officially done for the semester until Friday but Leonard suspected that some cadets were taking off early. The dormitory was quieter in the evenings, fewer people out walking the quad. The infirmary was seeing fewer patients, thank fuck, because if he had to prescribe another dose of cortropine for these stupid kids dropping like flies from finals week stress - too many stims and not getting enough sleep - he was going to pull out a phaser and just start shooting them to put them out of their fucking misery.
He headed back to his dormitory in a poor mood. Dropping his med kit on the floor, he turned on the computer terminal and began parsing through his messages. Nearly all of them were departmental bullshit, holiday greetings, reminders to cadets to lock up expensive equipment or personal if you were leaving for the semester break.
Leonard snorted at that. Leaving? He had absolutely no fucking place to go, and from the look of it, neither did Jim. Nothing was packed up, he hadn't mentioned a damn thing about leaving for the holidays, or even the holidays themselves. Just like it was any other day, week, month in their Academy lives. ...Wait. A message from Kirk, James T.?
Leonard opened it.
Leonard,
In one of the computer labs. Don't wait up for me.
JTK
That was interesting... and Leonard was bored as hell. Grabbing a couple pieces of fruit and a bottle of water, he headed out the door toward the labs.
The building was nearly empty, so it wasn't hard to find Jim hunched over a console in one of the labs in the back. "Hey," he called out, stepping toward him and peering over his shoulder. Looked to be a dozen programs open, and Jim was typing like a madman, coding flying from his fingers faster than Leonard could follow. "What's up?" he asked, dropping the bottle of water and an apple next to Jim's arm and finding a nearby chair to sit on.
"Like magic, you always know when I need a pick me up," Jim murmured, but he didn't reach for either item. "Didn't have to come, you know."
"Was bored," Leonard replied, leaning back and crossing a leg in front of him. "Thought we could go grab some food or something later." But Jim seemed really intent on whatever the fuck he was working on. Oh well. "I can leave you alone, if you're busy," he said, standing up slowly. "I'll catch ya later."
Finally Jim actually looked up from what he was doing, giving a blink at Leonard. It was strange, how pale he looked in the console's white light, and the light made the shadows under his eyes worse. "...nah, like having you around." He said after a few seconds of silence, a lazy grin coming to his lips. "Where were you thinking?"
"Anywhere I can get away from all this Christmas bullshit," Leonard muttered. "I swear I see another reindeer or Santa Claus I'm gonna sedate them the hard way." But there weren't many places one could escape the holiday trappings, not on December 21st. A little sigh escaped him. "Wouldn't say no to Chinese." Or a beer.
Jim frowned, "...What?" He sounded honestly confused, "But you have that kid and everyone." As if that magically made someone give a shit about the holidays.
"She's with her mother." And her stepfather, Leonard added in his head, but not aloud. "I sent her a present a few days ago, but..." he shrugged. "Just gonna hang out here and pick up any extra shifts they got at the clinic."
The code was looked at, a finger idly scrolling through it before he nodded once and started to save everything. "Chinese it is." He stood up, not saying anything more about the subject.
That brought a hint of a smile. Jim could always be counted on for some fun, or at the very least, some distraction from whatever it was that was haunting Leonard's thoughts that day. Failure, death, alcohol, Joanna... all pushed aside when he couldn't stand it anymore, courtesy of Jim Kirk.
They ended up at a little dive Jim knew about that made the hottest Kung Pao that Leonard ever had. He was half-way through his meal when he noticed Jim just pushing his food around his plate. "Somethin' wrong with it?" he asked with a full mouth, looking concerned.
"...Nope." Jim said, not looking up, "Best chinese food a poor man can afford in this city." He nudged at a noodle with his chopsticks. Come to think of it... Jim looked a bit sunken around the eyes.
"Thought we were past you bullshitting me, kid. You're not sick, are you?" Leonard asked, looking at Jim with an evaluative glance. He'd been quiet the last few days, unusual, but it was finals and everyone was on edge. Leonard hadn't been in the best mood himself, not since getting the letter from Jocelyn, so he hadn't paid much attention to the lack of that spark that Jim seemed to exude.
"Not sick." Jim gave a tiny shrug of his shoulder, "Just less hungry then I thought." Something was definitely wrong, as food was a major point of Jim's life. There was, in fact, that small store of food Leonard had found one day in the back of their closet. All non-perishable, long lasting things like protein nibs. Nothing that needed to be cooked, needed water, or any prep at all. He'd thought about asking, but like everything else about Leonard, he'd forgotten it, too wrapped up in his own troubles to think about other people. No wonder he was alone, he mused to himself as he reached across and took Jim's eggroll.
Then it hit him, like a ton of bricks. He wasn't the only one at the table with no home to go to. "What are you doing for the break?" he asked. "Going anywhere?"
"Nah. Plan to go bar hopping, pick up some people, drink away any memories of the break, sober up by the first Monday of the new semester." Jim looked up in the dim lighting of the restaurant, his eyes very blue, almost purple, set against the garish burgundies and reds.
Leonard snorted. "Want some company?"
Jim's look was unreadable, "You really don't want to spend your whole holiday getting wasted. You'll end up drinking away half of med school."
"How the fuck do you think I got through med school, Jim?" Leonard retorted, taking a long swig of his beer. "It's okay, I'll find something to do with myself. Not much for parties anyway... might just go check into some hotel somewhere and get away from people for a while." One of those places people respected privacy, where no one asked why you weren't with your family... somewhere people minded their own damned business. Surely it existed somewhere.
"Fucking expensive, why bother? You could go camping in the woods and get twice the privacy for a hundredth the credits." Jim's mouth made a bit of love to the mouth of his beer bottle. Without having eaten much, it was hitting harder then it normally did. For six years younger, Jim Kirk had one hell of an alcohol tolerance - if he wanted to have it.
"Camping?" Leonard laughed. "What, do I look like a fucking Eagle Scout?" Eyes lingering on Jim's mouth, he bit the inside of his lip, resisting the urge to comment on it. "I don't know the first thing about camping..."
The look on Jim's face turned to one of disbelief, "You're fucking kidding me. Aren't you a Southern boy and they do that shit?"
Leonard responded by flicking a piece of rice at Jim. "Pretty stereotypical of you, asshole. And no, we didn't all do that, like backwoods rednecks." He shrugged. "Just never got into it."
"Real mature, shithead." Jim snapped back, "You probably couldn't survive a day without environmental controls and replicators and shit." He muttered the last bit around the mouth of his beer bottle, taking a swig.
"...'course I could survive it," Leonard rolled his eyes. "How hard can it be, there's nothing to do. I just ask - why would anyone enjoy that when there are perfectly good place with beds and showers around."
Jim leaned back in his seat, tilting the chair at an angle to the floor. He frowned, not saying anything, his finger tapping slowly on the bottle in his hand. "Let's go, then."
Finishing his drink, Leonard could see that Jim was serious... and didn't think he could do it. Pushing away from the table, he stood, tossing his napkin on his plate. "Let's go."
"Hope you're paying, hotshot." Jim smirked, leaving without even a backwards glance at the table.
Pulling out his wallet, Leonard handed his card and the check to the waitstaff, then headed outside to where Jim was standing, waiting for him under a streetlight. It reminded him for a moment of when they'd met, the second time, Jim living on the streets. It occurred to him, late as usual, that Jim probably had a lot of experience with living outside, making his way, finding a place to stay where ever he could, and this might not be the best experience for him to relive. "We don't have to do this, Jim," Leonard said as he approached him. "If you want to go be with your friends, go do that. You don't have to watch over my ass."
It was an honest smirk on Jim's face, giving it some of its usual spark, "I watch your ass all the time, as its a mighty fine one," Jim's voice took on a teasing drawl.
Leonard rolled his eyes, like he always did when Jim made some comment about his various body parts. Waiting for the shuttle to come by and take them back to the campus, he brought it up again. "We don't have to do this," he said as they sat down on one of the seats in the back.
"Maybe I want to." Jim was staring out the window, but his knuckles were white on the bar of the seat in front of him. "Nothing better to do over break, anyway, might as well introduce your ass to some hard livin'."
"Now you're just tryin' to piss me off, Kirk," Leonard said with a chuckle. "Okay, kid, you're on. What do we need?"
A shrug, "Dunno. Never did it with anything."
Well that didn't help. "We need a car or something to get there?" Where ever the fuck they were going... "I mean, what about sleeping bags and shit like that?"
"You leave getting sleeping bags and some matches and shit up to me, you find us a way to get somewhere warm. Deal?" Jim gave Leonard a long look, one that said trust me.
"Deal," Leonard muttered as the shuttle dropped them off, and they headed to their room.
The next morning Leonard made some calls and found them a ride - Zamora down the hall was going to be gone for a week and didn't mind Leonard using his car while he was gone. He'd tossed some clothes into a bag, along with his toothbrush and med kit, not sure what else he'd need, and was waiting for Jim to return from where ever the hell he'd gone off to. When Jim returned, he had two backpacks with him, one on either shoulder. He tossed one at Leonard as soon as he was in sight, "Make good on your end, Bones?"
Leonard jangled the keys in front of Jim's face. "Ready whenever you are."
Jim just smirked and followed Bones out to their ride. He made an odd face when he saw it but just shrug when Leonard teased him about it not being good enough. Jim programmed in their destination, and an eyebrow shot up when it said just how long the drive would be. "Make sure we're really in the middle of no where," Jim sat back when questioned about it.
They drove south, past the cities that dotted the California coast until they hit smaller towns. Stopping in one, they grabbed lunch at a small diner, debating on how much longer it would take and if they should try one of the alternate routes. Finally they were back on their way, music playing softly as the roads went from highway to two-lane to one-lane to a winding dirt road in the midst of some trees. "I believe we've hit middle-of-nowhere, Jim," Leonard called out sarcastically.
"It'll do." Jim replied with just as much sarcasm, stretching out his legs after Leonard parked the car out of the way. Leonard watched Jim take a slow, deep breath before pulling his pack out of the car and without another word go marching off into the woods.
Leonard followed, unsure what, if anything to say. Jim seemed to want to do this, but Leonard couldn't remember ever seeing him more withdrawn and quiet, even in those early days when there was still so much distrust and uncertainly about each other. Eventually he could see Jim stopping ahead, and making his way to his side, Leonard whistled low.
They were standing in front of a clear lake, the surface so smooth it mirrored the clouds in the sky. Leonard swore he could smell the water from here, the air filled with the scents of the trees and dirt and animals. He dropped his bag at his feet. "Wow."
"...Yea." Jim's grin was as bright as the December sun. He dropped his pack as well, "Spot looks as good as any. Let's set up camp."
Camp ended up being a couple of sleeping bags tossed on the ground underneath a large tree and some firewood. There was a bag tossed to the side with snacks, rations, fruit, but nothing that looked like it would really fill them up. Leonard was holding his tongue, sure that any comment he made would be met with ridicule. "You been out this way before?" he asked, kicking some rocks out of the way and sitting down on some springy grass.
"Long time ago I was." Jim laid back on his sleeping bag, closing his eyes as he soaked in the sun. "Enough to remember where it was, at least. Ended up learning a bunch about how to live on the land." There were things that Jim said, like that, little comments that slipped about his past and Leonard wanted to know more, to ask about it all. The first few attempts, a couple months past had been met with silence, so he'd learned to stop asking, and wondered in silence. He didn't like the idea of Jim living on the land, no where to go, but he had to admit, watching him resting over there on his bag, he seemed to know what he was doing.
Jim seemed in no hurry to do much of anything, only pillowing his head with his arms, content in the sunshine. Out here, where there was nothing but the two of them, time seemed to lose its meaning. Just the quiet wind, the birds chirping, the rustle of grass, and their breathing were the only sounds. Nothing fake, false, unnatural, or man made.
It took a while for Leonard to get used to the quiet. After a few minutes he stood up, and began walking around. The woods weren't particularly dense, and there was a lot of plant life, evidence of animals that made their home here. For a moment he considered asking Jim about any dangerous creatures but stopped himself. He'd never hear the end of that. He ended up near the other side of the lake, peering into the water. There were fish in there, and Leonard found himself remembering fishing with his father and grandfather as a boy. When Leonard finally wandered back, Jim was gone. Amazingly, there was a tiny fire going, but little other sign of where the blond had gone. His pack was open though, exposing the edge of something that looked like an old fashion pot.
Sitting back down on the ground in front of the fire, Leonard sighed. He fed little bits of wood and tinder to the flame, watching as it grew bigger and added a few stones to the fire ring. Considering there wasn't much way to tell how much time passed, it was a while before Jim returned. He had something that might have been an old tee shirt wrapped up as a bundle in his arms. "Hey, haven't been eaten by a bear yet? I'm impressed." Jim teased as he sat down, undoing the bundle. He spread open the cloth to reveal different plants and the white creamy caps of mushrooms.
Tossing a pebble at Jim, Leonard began examining the pile. "This is lunch?" He picked up a mushroom, poked at the gills, gave them a sniff. "You're sure they're alright?"
"I can hear your enthusiasm." Jim rolled his eyes, pulling out a knife from his pocket and whipping it open. "I'm sure they're fine. First time I ever came out here, I learned fast which were poisonous. Just eat little bites, just one to start... if it didn't make me sick, I ate a bigger piece... if that didn't make me sick, well either I was not waking up or it was good." He shrugged, and tugged out what was definitely a metal pot from his pack. He began to cut up the mushrooms, his gaze distant.
Leonard nodded, the look in Jim's eyes worrying him as much as that story about discovering poisonous mushrooms by trial and error.
He looked over at the lake. "Wish I'd thought to bring a fishing pole, this would be perfect with some of that trout I saw in there," " Leonard drawled slowly, filling the pot with the mushrooms. "Like this?"
"Never thought about fishing," Jim admitted, looking to the lake, "Never fished before," He glanced over, "Guess you have? Yea... just like that." He pointed to more stuff on the cloth, "Green stuff's kinda like lettuce, and the darker green stuff's... umm, I dunno." A little laugh, "Better lettuce? Never did think to look up what some of this is called."
"I think better lettuce sounds 'bout right," Leonard chuckled. "Yeah, used to fish when I was younger. Granddad has some land, we hunted and fished some." He grinned at the memory. "That more in line of what you think of Southern boys?"
"Ha!" As if Leonard had revealed something amazing, "I knew it was in you." Jim's grin was infectious, "That Southern boy buried all deep in there under layers of booze and gruff and hypos."
"Yeah, somewhere in there," Leonard agreed, laughing at the image. "But Atlanta isn't exactly backwoods, son. We lived in houses, believe it or not, with indoor plumbing even."
"Damn, and here I had this mental image that everyone in the South lived in one of those old tin cans with out-houses," His voice was pure tease as he gestured to the better-than-lettuce, "Start tearing that up, put it in the pot."
Leonard obeyed, ripping up the greens into small pieces and added them to the pot, "You ready for new classes next semester?" he wondered, fascinated at how Jim managed to excel in his classes when he spent so little time actually studying.
"Looking forward to some of them, actually," Jim smirked, finishing the last of the mushrooms. He picked up what looked like an ugly root and started using the edge of the knife to peel it, "Decided to go with tactical."
Bones nodded, not surprised. Jim had that sort of mind. "So, what are you making here?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know what the root was or where Jim had gotten it.
"Just a salad." He pointed to the lettuce, "Can make a real simple soup broth out of this," He held up the root he was cutting into, "And those," A point at the darker better-than-lettuce.
Laughing, Leonard sat back and watched. "So you're telling me that if I want you to eat better I need to drop you off in the middle of nowhere?" There was something about the air here, the sun on their backs and the smell of freshness that stimulated the appetite.
Leonard got a piece of mushroom flung at his forehead for that, "Asshole." But Jim was smirking, carefully cutting into the root to let it fall back onto the cloth. "Should be another pot in my bag. You know how hard it was to get those?" Specially when both pots were marked with the symbol of the Academy.
Come to think of it, so were both sleeping bags... and though Leonard wasn't entirely surprised, he didn't say anything about it. After all, he thought, leaning over and pulling the pot out of Jim's bag and handing it to him, this was like some sort of outdoor training, right? "We'll have to take care of this gear then." He watched and waited as Jim prepared the food, the look of concentration on his face as serious as when he's been coding at the computer lab the night before.
"You were right about the quiet," Leonard told him, looking around. "Can I help with anything?" he finally asked, unsure what to do but wanting to be productive somehow, to feel less like he was being taken care of by the kid.
Jim nodded, "I'll take you out once we've eaten and show you what I found, and stuff, but for now, could you fill that pot?" He pointed to the empty one. "Take the cloth with you. Wash it in the lake, wring it out, then put it over the pot. Scoop the water with your hands into the pot, let the cloth filter out gunk. Fire'll take care of the rest."
Leonard followed Jim's instructions, twitching a little at the idea of cooking in lake water but without any other real alternatives, he'd trusted Jim's experience. "Here ya go," he said several minutes later, carrying the water pot back to Jim.
"Check this out." Jim pulled up two sticks with Y shapes in them, and slammed them into the soft ground on either side of the fire. Another stick across, and he slid the handle of the pot over it... and now it hung over the fire. He gave a fierce grin, almost laughing, "You make one joke about me knowing any of this?" He looked up, "And I'll make sure there are rumors that haunt you for the rest of your days at the Academy."
"What, that you can take care of your ass when push comes to shove?" Leonard admired the contraption. "Nothin' to be ashamed of, Jim. Look at you, you're feeding me out here, albeit twigs and berries and shit, but still, its probably nutritious," he laughed, ducking out of the way of the rock that was thrown at him at that comment.
"Twigs and berries..." Jim grumbled playfully, "Should just keep all my twigs and berries and not give you a damn thing."
"That's what makes you a better person than me, Kirk," Leonard grinned, leaning back on his hands. Fuck, he was getting hungry! "You wouldn't let me just sit here and starve."
Which earned Leonard a surprisingly good puppy face, "...you'd let me starve?" The tone of his voice was somewhere between completely serious and wibbly puppy.
"Yeah, Jim, because that's been the extent of our friendship so far, hasn't it, me not feeding you like the stray cat you are." Moaning and groaning aside, Leonard was always pushing food at Jim, who was still a good fifteen pounds underweight. "Dammit, just last week you polished off those cookies that were for me!" He looked around for a bowl or plate or something. "Now hurry up and cook my twigs."
"Not a stray cat... and you didn't label the cookies! I didn't know!" Jim laughed, adding some of the nuts and fruit to the salad. "Look, gourmet food, so shut the fuck up Southern trailer boy." He nudged the pot in Leonard's direction.
Leonard's face dropped, looking incredibly hurt. "My grandma lived in a trailer," he said quietly, poking through his food as he took a bite.
"Er," Jim blinked in Leonard's direction, "...I didn't... mean anything...."
But Leonard couldn't hold it in any longer, busting out laughing. "Oh god, the look on your face," he laughed, almost cackling. He hadn't laughed so hard in months. "Fuck, that was funny," he sighed, grinning over at Jim. "Sorry, Jim, couldn't resist," he added, taking another bite of his food. These twigs and berries were pretty fucking good.
Jim reached out and calmly took the pot away from Leonard.
He then calmly picked up Leonard, who was still so busy laughing he couldn't put up much of a struggle, try as he might.
Then calmly dumped him in the lake.
It cooled off quickly once the sun set, and the tree boughs swayed in the soft breeze. Leonard lay on his sleeping bag, listening to the sounds of the animals talking to each other, and wondered if there was another human being around them for miles.
His wet clothes were hanging over a bush, the setting December sun not strong enough to dry them out from that afternoon's plunge into the lake, courtesy of Jim Kirk. Still, he thought, recalling that look on Jim's face -it was totally worth it.
Turning over, he lay on his side and looked over at Jim. Jim was staring up at the sky where he lay in his sleeping bag, barely seen in the low light of their banked fire. He looked calm, content, in a way Leonard rarely ever got to see him. There was a smile ghosting on his face, one of those tiny unconscious ones that came from good thoughts.
"You like this shit, don't you?" Leonard asked quietly, not wanting to disturb Jim, but feeling like this was one of those times when the barriers were down and they could actually connect.
"...sometimes getting away from the city helps." Was the somewhat cryptic answer, "Spent almost a third of my life living on my own wits, so sometimes having all that shit at my fingertips in the dorms feels... weird."
Not the answer Leonard expected at all, but pared down, under the layers of bravado he was coming to discover the real Jim Kirk, who was as much a paradox as Leonard had ever seen. Roared into the Academy and tested out of all the first-year classes that the other cadets struggled through after a life living from hand to mouth. What kind of person could do that?
Even who he was seemed mired in mystery. It had been a full month after Jim had started staying regularly in his dorm room that he'd learned that Jim, his Jim was Jim Kirk, son of George Kirk. Even then, it hadn't been Jim who'd mentioned it, but one of the other guys on the floor. Jim could have walked into any class or office on that campus and demanded (and probably got) some special consideration because of that last name, but he hadn't. Not even once, so far as Leonard knew.
"You were right, it's better than some hotel," he said, looking back up at the sky. Millions of stars, and he wondered if he would ever visit any of them. His stomach tightened at that. "Hope you aren't missing anything too fun back in the city, know you had some plans."
There was silence after that, where they both stared at stars. "I lied."
Leonard tilted his head, brows furrowed though Jim couldn't see it. "What do you mean?"
"Didn't have any plans. Thought you were leaving for the holidays and I'd have the room to myself." A quiet laugh in the night, "Was going to finish up my coding, then figure out what to do next."
"What do you usually do for Christmas?" Leonard asked.
"...promise not to laugh?"
"Yeah," Leonard said after a moment.
"Wish I felt better about that pause." Jim shifted audibly in his sleeping bag, maybe a shrug, "Usually was in bars, playing for tips."
"You think I'd laugh at that?"
"Yea." Blunt.
Shit, that hurt. He'd thought that... well, whatever he thought, it was clearly wrong. Kirk didn't trust him now anymore than he had the day they met. "Whatd'ya play?"
"Anything but Christmas shit. People in bars don't want to hear that holiday spirit everyone else seems to fake." There was a deep hatred in that voice, all directed towards the non-existent entity known as 'the holidays'.
Leonard understood that feeling... it wasn't the first time Christmas had seemed hollow - that had been the year his mother had died. But this holiday season - it was such a contrast to what he'd had - big house all decorated, a real tree with presents for his baby girl, everyone happy and laughing...
Shaking that memory away, Leonard cleared his throat. "I mean, what instrument to do play?"
"Guitar. Picked it up when I was a kid."
Leonard smiled at that. "I can see that... bet you're good at it, too." He thought about Jim, all he knew about him, which was scant little. "You ain't got any family out there, Jim?"
"Nah." It dropped into silence, something almost tense.
No one at all. Made sense, if Leonard was his next of kin... that still put a smile on this face, thinking about that. "Quite a sad pair, aren't we, Jim?" he grunted. Silence answered him. "Jim?" Leonard shifted up to lean on his elbow and looked over. There was Jim, eyes closed, head still pillowed by his arms, a smile on his lips but obviously asleep from the slow draws of his breathing. "Great, thanks Jim." He muttered as he laid back down, "So boring you fell asleep mid-conversation."
Still, Leonard thought as he looked up into that starlit sky, this was a thousand times better than he thought Christmas would be this year.
December 2256
"No, I don't understand, Jim... how could you pack the fishing poles, but forget the bait?" Bones was digging through the bag once more, as if the bag of bait might magically appear if he emptied the bag one more time. "How the hell are we supposed to catch anything?"
"The fuck Bones?! I've never gone fishing before in my life, how the hell was I supposed to be the one to think of bait?" Jim glared at Bones, shaking the fishing pole in his hand, "What do you even use as bait for fishing?" He tried to imagine what a slimy toothless creature might eat, "Cheese?" So much for that whole 'Kirk's a genius' thing.
"I had some great nightcrawlers, bought'em from the same place I got the poles, they've been in the fridge unit for a week. How could you miss them?" he grumbled, looking around at their stores of food... "I don't know what else to use. Shit," he said, throwing down the pole and sitting on the ground, staring at the lake.
"Don't you think I would have noticed some fucking worms in the fridge?" Jim stopped, then gave Leonard a weird look, "...Why did you keep them in the fridge anyway?"
"The container said 'keep refrigerated', what the fuck do I know about worms." The whole trip thus far had seemed to one misstep after another, starting with getting out late because Bones couldn't find the new lantern he'd bought specifically for this trip and ending up with the missing bait. "We were planning on eating fish, we didn't bring much else to eat."
Jim stared at the surface of the lake, tapping his foot, "Well, worms live in the ground. Couldn't we just try digging for them? Or find something else we've got with us to use as bait?"
Bones sent a glare in Jim's direction, but admitted that it was going to be one or the other - or this was going to be a hungry vacation.
Ever since their impromptu camping trip last year they'd unconsciously planned for this months, without mentioning it aloud, just taking it for granted that this Christmas they'd do the same - go off somewhere and hide from everyone and everything they didn't want to deal with. Even the rain that surprised them that last night of their first trip, soaking them and all their possessions to the bone, hadn't deterred them from planning another outing this year.
In fact, they were better prepared this year, having picked up some gear here and there- a tent, water purification pills, a small tarp. None of which mattered one damned bit when shit got left behind. Grabbing the bag of snacks, Bones headed off to the lake. Jim rolled his eyes and followed. "Maybe the worms crawled up your ass." He muttered.
"I heard that," Bones grumbled as he walked off down the edge of the lake to a quiet spot around the corner.
His attitude was much improved when he returned an hour later with two fat trout. Bones didn't say anything, just carried them proudly and placed them gently, like treasured possessions on a plate. Jim gaped, looking at them... then poking it with a finger. He wrinkled a nose, "Huh. So, you end up digging up worms for these things?"
Bones shook his head. "Just tried different things. The protein bars didn't stay on the hook, and they outright refused the string cheese. I struck gold with these, though," Bones grinned, holding up an opened bag of puffed cheese curls. "Suckers fucking loved these."
"WHAT!?" Jim jerked up, looking terrified, "You used my CHEESE CURLS!?" He stared at Bones in horror, "What's wrong with you!?"
The grin on his face fell. "Nothin's wrong, Jim. C'mon, you should see how they took to these. Besides, this stuff is crap anyway, terrible for you," he said, tossing the cheese curls back into their food bag. "It's the only thing they would eat, Jim," he added, exasperated at the look of despair on Jim's face.
"...but... my cheese curls." Jim pouted, sitting down. "...good thing I used the booze you brought so we could cook up the fish. Beer works great."
The light left Bones' eyes. "How much of the beer did you use?" he asked carefully. He hadn't brought all that much, hard as it was to pack and carry on their motorcycle.
"There's 'bout half a pack left." Jim remarked without much thought.
"Bullshit," Bones whispered hoarsely. "Not for two fucking fish..."
Blue eyes looked up... then he suddenly burst out laughing, "Fuck, you looked like someone pissed in your bowl of cereal. I'm just yanking your chain for you using my cheese curls."
"You, Jim, are an asshole," Bones muttered, taking a deep breath. "Okay, so you're cooking them, does that mean you're gonna clean the fish or I need to do that?"
Jim pointed at the fish, "I have no idea how to clean them. I did bring a flat pan so we can cook them though, so if you can make them look like fish instead of fish, I can do something with them."
"I'll see what I can do," Bones answered, grabbing them and heading out toward the water's edge. He found a flat rock and began scraping the scales off the sides. Once that was done, he pulled out his laser scalpel, and began cutting the fish. "You got a problem with me leaving the heads on?" he called back out to Jim.
"We don't eat the heads, do we?" Jim called in return.
Bones looked back up, exasperated. "I don't even know 'bout you sometimes, Kirk," he mumbled under his breath. Cutting the heads and tail off, he slit them open and cleaned them, bringing back two fish fillets ready for the frying pan. "Here ya go, sweetheart," he said sarcastically handing the fish to Jim.
"Thanks, honey." Jim rolled his eyes as he took the filets and put them on the pan he had pulled out of his bag, setting the pan on top of the rock-pile he had built in the fire. It was hollow in the middle and embers fell into it, giving them... well, an odd but working source of heat for this. He used a fork to prod at the white fish.
Bones settled cross-legged on the ground next to Jim, tearing up greens for a salad. He was quiet, but not in a bad way. They'd developed habits now, two people who weren't the easiest in the world to live with somehow found a way to live with each other. Not a lot of talking, but that didn't mean they were alone. They were together a lot of the time... they just didn't have to talk. It was something they didn't talk about, but instinctively knew. They didn't generally want to talk about things in their past, so they didn't. Didn't bring up the things that hurt and still bled and neither did the other, so together... was some of the most peace they had had. They knew each others' boundaries and didn't push past them. They could be themselves.
Most of the time, they wanted to be anyone else but themselves it seemed like.
"Think its done." Jim said quietly over the crackling fire. He nudged something against Bones' hand - a bottle of something that wasn't beer. It was a bottle of something clear, "Figured maybe this year we'd spice it up a little," Jim gave that infectious grin. "Forgot the shot glasses, though."
Bones looked up in the sky. It was early but hell, at least it wasn't morning, he thought, opening it and taking a swig. "Fuck," he thought as it burned going down. "Whatcha got in here, gasoline?" he asked, wincing.
"Good ol' fashion moonshine, straight from the engineering students," Jim laughed at his own statement, swiping back the bottle and taking a drink from it as well. He licked his lips at the end, then nudged an actual plate (another thing on the list of stuff they had remembered to bring this time) in Leonard's direction. Salad and filet, amazingly better then they tended to eat on campus.
Bones took another sip, prepared this time for the kick. It still hit him hard, and he laughed at the look on Jim's face. "Shut up, kid," he grinned, filling his plate with their bounty.
They ate in the peaceful quiet of their camping area, the only sounds to be heard were the wind, the water, the animals and them, finishing their dinner with gusto. It was hard to tell what time it was when he was out here, and Bones liked to try and guess the time by the light in the sky, rather than look at his datapad, still packed in his travel bag.
"15:45," he announced proudly, looking to Jim for his guess.
Jim arched a brow, then laughed, "Nice you'd think I'd break out the alcohol that early. It's at least 17:00."
"Bullshit," Bones told him, standing and heading into the tent. A moment later he exited, a frown on his face as he dropped back on the ground near the fire.
"I was right." He said very proudly, laying back.
Bones didn't respond, just took another drink from the bottle. He exhaled loudly as it burn down his throat. He dropped a small bag between him and Jim, filled to the brim with cookies. Jim let out one very excited sound and snagged a cookie, "Did you slave over a hot stove to make this?" He waved the cookie with a grin.
Bones snorted. "No, one of the nurses from the clinic made them, brought me some." He'd thrown away the holiday plate they'd come on.
"Good, I'm pretty sure if you tried to bake it'd be poison." Jim teased, happily nomming on his cookie. He shifted, leaning back on his elbow, staring up at the clear sky. "They said we're not supposed to have any rain this time, thank fuck."
"Wouldn't mind it so much, long as we got the tent," Bones replied, chewing on his own cookie. "Fish usually bite right after a good rain."
"Got those two big ones, how greedy can you get?" Jim laughed, "I might even be willing to sacrifice more cheese curls for them... can't beat fresh fish." He swiped the bottle and took a long swig that had him gasping at the end.
"Jim Kirk, my hero," Bones said sarcastically as he pushed another cookie into his mouth. Jim just gave an agreeing nod.
When late evening rolled around, and about half of the bottle of liquor later, both men were pleasantly... mostly... completely drunk. Jim was laid out on his sleeping bag by the fire, grinning lazily as he poked the fire with a long stick. Bones was trying to count the stars, and hadn't yet made it past thirty before getting lost and having to start over again. "Hey Jim," Bones called out from his sleeping bag on the opposite side of the fire.
"Mmm...?" Jim looked over with the slightly dopey look of someone who was drunk and knew they were drunk and just didn't care.
"You know any of those?" he asked, pointing up at the sky. Bones could find a couple planets, if they were out, and knew a few of the major stars but he'd never been interested in them enough to learn about them. The prospect of traveling in space wasn't one he looked forward to at all.
Jim tilted his head up and squinted, then smirked, "Would, but they're all blurry dots." He swayed a little, then pointed, "Red one's Vulcan."
"Vulcan," he repeated, taking another swig. Fuck... people lived out there... and one day he would too.
Shit. "You ever been out in space?" Bones asked, curious.
"...Yea, long time ago. Not long or anything." Jim licked his lips, "Hell, was born there."
"Oh yeah..." Bones winced a little, though it was hidden in the darkness. "...forgot 'bout that, man. I mean, I just didn't think, I forget sometime that was you, ya know?" Fuck, Bones told himself, maybe he just needed to shut up when he was drunk.
Jim was silent, for a while, before saying quietly, "...never wanted to be a Kirk." He murmured into the silence between them. "Wish my Dad hadn't gone and made himself some fucking hero."
"Hey," Bones said sleepily. "Don't say that. He saved a lotta people."
"...ruined the rest of my fuckin' life in the process. Mom never got over his death." Jim was staring into the fire, "She hated Sam and I."
"Who's Sam?" Bones asked, rolling over to one side.
"Brother." Came the quiet reply.
Wait - brother? Jim told him he didn't have any family... "Fuck, Jim, if you got a brother, why don't you spend Christmas with him? Why you out here with me if you got real fam'ly?"
Jim shifted by the fire and sat up, looking over to Bones, "Haven't seen him since I was eleven." He shrugged as if it was no big deal. "Don't know if he's still alive."
"Oh." Bones went quiet, not sure what else to say. "Oh," he repeated, a memory flicking through his head. Watching a funeral on the news reel when he was a little boy. A little boy... and the baby. Fuck, Jim was the baby. Bones rolled on to his back and sighed. Jim said nothing, but grabbed the bottle that was smeared with their fingerprints and chugged some more of it. It burned, from the pinching of his face.
Bones sat up, too quickly, and his head spun. "Shit," he muttered, reaching out to the bottle and taking another drink. "You know," he said quietly, "we can find him, Jim, if you want. I can help you."
"...Don't want to." Jim spat the words, slurred and angry. "He never looked for me, never came back for me, never contacted me. I sent out letters to him... never a single response. He's dead or gone, and obviously wants to stay there."
"Shit, Jim..." Bones sighed, looking over at Jim. "...'m sorry." He shook his head. "Fuck 'm, if he didn't look for you. You don't need him."
"...Don't know what I need." Jim whispered, standing up, swaying badly on his feet.
"You don't need a broken leg, man, so sit down. Fuck," he groaned, getting up and making his unsteady way to where Jim was standing. "What, you need a piss or somthin'?"
"...just wanna fucking walk." Blue eyes turned on him, "Fucking think a little, s'bad?" He rubbed his hand under his nose.
Bones rolled his eyes as he grabbed Jim's shoulder. "You're not gonna walk b'yourself, hold on."
"If y'hold on, I'm gonna fall over." Jim protested, staggering.
Jesus... "...'kay, I'll let you go, but 'm followin' you." Bones kept close to Jim, waiting to catch him when he inevitably fell. It came sooner then expected, when suddenly they staggered straight into each other and sent each other down to the ground in a sprawl of limbs and clothing. Jim grunted in some pain as he tried to get free of that sprawl, Bones' elbow in his ribs. "Fuck, get off me," Bones groaned, rolling to his back so at least Jim wasn't stabbing his side.
"C'mon, stop wigglin' around," Bones held onto Jim's shoulders as they lay there, Bones feeling as if the earth was turning under him. Fuck, he hadn't been this drunk in a long time. Jim stared up at Bones, blue eyes swirling with the liquor, lips parted as he panted.
Then he laughed, "Whoa, you're still moving," He said with a wide grin, his head rocking back and forth a little.
Something about the way Jim said that, with that smile made Bones laugh. "Goddamn, Jim, I'm sorry as shit about your family," he said with a long sigh, "but I'm fuckin' glad you're here with me tonight."
"Glad too," Jim's grin grew, "What 'bout your fam'ly? Huh? Why don't you do the Christmas shit with that kid'a'yours? Supposed to like this stuff..."
Bones was quiet for a long time, laying back with his eyes closed, so long that Jim started to think that he'd fallen asleep. "M'family's all dead," he told Jim quietly. "Just Joanna," he added in a little sing-song voice, smiling as he thought about her, "but she's with her mother. They do big Christmas, can't mess with that."
"Sure ya can. Yer... her dad and all." Jim protested Bones' statement.
"Fuck, Jim, she's five... they got trees and presents and fireplace for Santa." Bones got quiet again, as if imagining it all. "That's 'mportant to her right now, and 'm not fuckin' that up for her."
Jim suddenly slapped Bones, hard. "What the fuck's wrong with you, man? Most imp..port'nt thing is her daddy."
Bones looked up at Jim with dark, angry eyes. With a growl he rolled over, and grabbed Jim's hands, pinning them down. "Don't you ever hit me again, kid," he spat out, looking down at Jim. "You don't know shit 'bout me or any of this."
Shaking a little, Bones let go of Jim's hands, sitting up, facing away from him. "Least I'd have some fuckin' balls to see my kid on Christmas." Jim muttered.
Bones' shoulders dropped. He stood, and turned, wiping his face as he faced Jim. "Stand up." Jim's body tightened up, and from the expression on his face, he knew what was coming. He still stood up, facing Bones with a sour expression. Bones waited a beat, then took the swing, connecting his right fist with Jim's chin. Jim staggered back, a hand coming up to rub his chin.
He spat some blood to the side, then gave Bones a dark look. "Feel better now?"
"...a little," Bones lied. His hands in fists at his side, he just stared at Jim, breathing hard a moment before he turned and walked toward the lake.
December 2257
When Bones came out of his last class before the holiday break, it was both a surprise and not one that Jim was sitting outside in the parking lot. New to this year's trip was a small trailer attached to the back of his cycle. There was an ice chest tied down to the front of it, and from the grin on Jim's face, that trailer was already stuffed with their supplies. Jim slipped off as he approached and popped open the container on the back of the bike, and pulled out something black and tugged something off the side of the cycle itself.
"Merry Christmas, Bones." Jim tossed both items at him. One was a leather jacket that matched the one Jim normally wore, and the second was a sleekly designed cycle helmet. "Let's go, Mexico awaits."
Bones picked up the jacket, feeling its weight and assessing in his head how much this cost, without the additional price of the helmet, which was clearly not cheap. He gave Jim a little glare but slid the jacket over his shoulders, the heaviness feeling good on him. From the look of it all, Jim had packed them down good, everything that they'd picked up for the trip this year... and over the past two years their camping gear had grown numerous enough that they kept it in a storage unit on campus. Settling on the back of the cycle behind Jim, Bones put his helmet on and leaned in. "Thanks, kid... let's go."
Jim let out a cheer and started the cycle, pulling the cycle out of the parking lot and towards the nearest highway going South.
Jim drove the first two hours, then they switched off and Bones drove the next two, and so on and so on until, eight hours later, they were well into Mexico. Jim had found the spot for this year's trip through the galactic network, a mention of it along with a vague address and directions from that point. Thus after a half an hour of Bones cursing out unmarked roads that Jim took over driving and found the lake within ten minutes. (Along with a snarky remark about how at least Bones looked good...)
Camping had become their pet project, without a doubt. They had planned this time - gear, location, food, and even went so far as to check the weather out ahead of time. Jim went about his usual methods of making a fire, as Bones decided to take on the pains of getting up their tent. It only took two tries this year, a new personal best. The fire would be their main source of light after dark, smoke to keep away any insects, and a bit of added warmth against the light nip in temperature that came at night. It wouldn't go below 55 degrees, but after years in California they preferred the added warmth.
Between their later start and the length of time it took to get there, it was nearly dark by the time they finished setting up camp. Bones shook the tent, making sure it was steady and secure. "Fuck, I'm hungry, but I don't wanna go fishing this late..." Even if he caught one soon, it would be a while before it was cleaned and cooked. Pulling out their snack bag, he began digging out some muffins he'd packed. "Hey," he called out to Jim, tossing the bag at him. "Eat."
"Yes, Mom." Jim called out teasingly, digging into the muffin as he leaned back in a small folding portable chair.
Bones tossed himself on the ground, looking over at Jim. In the light of the fire there was something about his face... a satisfied sort of smile, a new look - there were times when Bones saw his friend and could really and truly picture him in charge of some ship someday. A maturity that came from not just surviving but thriving. Bones still called him 'kid' from time to time, but the nickname meant less and less everyday. Soon, couple of years maybe, Jim would outrank him, how fucking crazy was that...
But Bones was proud of him, and all he'd done. Not that he could tell Jim that, he'd never met anyone who couldn't take a genuine compliment as badly as Jim...
Jim ate the muffin like an apple, nose wrinkled, teeth showing, large bites. He looked completely at home here, but looked just as home in the captain's chair the two times he had tried to beat the Kobayashi Maru. He kicked a leg out, then glanced over, "Can I get a beer?"
Bones tossed Jim a bottle, and opened one for himself. He looked around as well as he could in the growing darkness, and grinned. "You found a good spot here, Jim. Remind me to not doubt you anymore," he drawled slowly, taking a long swig from his bottle, hearing Jim pop off the cap on his own.
Bones got pouted at, "Doubting me? How can you? I'm always right!" Said in such a proud tone it was hard to catch the undertone of I am speaking pure bullshit.
It was that tone that made Jim so popular, that unbelievable confidence that would be annoying if it weren't coupled with ability, and even then it could get annoying if you didn't know him well enough to be fascinated, like Bones was. Not that he'd admit it, but the longer he knew Jim, the more he liked him, and now, in the third year of their friendship, Bones couldn't imagine a day when they wouldn't be friends. It was hard to remember a time when they hadn't been friends, either.
"Was thinkin', there's a little village only about twenty minutes drive, maybe we should go into town at some point and have a big feast. Visit the sites or something," Jim's voice made it clear he wasn't set on the idea, just throwing it out between them.
"Yeah, that sounds good," Bones replied, mouth full of muffin. "Maybe breakfast one day, some real Mexican food, that would be terrific," he sighed. Fuck, it had been a busy autumn for both of them, the classes getting harder, the responsibilities increased, and it left them with less time to just hang out in their dorm room. "You get all your projects done?"
Jim lowered his hand from his mouth, the muffin dangling in his fingertips, "Yea, starting a new one though." He closed his eyes, "Need to review those tapes from the last 'Maru recording."
Bones pulled out another muffin. "...'ow come?" Bones asked as he chewed, curious. It had been crazy, of course, for Jim to take the test a second time. No one passed the Kobayashi Maru.
"...Wanna see what I did wrong." Jim muttered quietly. "Gonna find a way to beat it."
Nodding, Bones kept eating. "Yeah," he said, not really believing Jim. No one tried a third time. After he finished he leaned back on his elbows, stretching as he popped his back - they'd been on that bike for a fucking long time that day. He frowned, thinking about the classes he'd be assigned in addition to his hospital duties. "This upcoming semester's gonna be a bitch."
"What do they have ya doing?" Jim asked, eyes opening as he looked over, taking another bite of his muffin and washing it down with a gulp of beer. Then, suddenly, he grinned and got up. He went digging into the trailer of the cycle, obviously looking for something. He came back after a minute or so like he was holding the holy grail - behind his back. "Guess what I got special for this year's trip?"
"Starting Xenobiology rotations," Bones sighed, "and some class in common Federation languages, why I don't fucking know but they're making me." He finished his beer and sat up. "Whatcha got there?"
"Because it's a requirement to graduate, learning another language... I can help you with that." Jim gave a little jostle of something - something metal. "Come on, guess!" Complete with a sly grin.
Bones mumbled, "...gonna take you up on that." He had absolutely no head for foreign earth languages... and while medical staff were suppsed to be verse in some basic words and phrases in several of them, Bones had never been able to get past a few vocabulary words. Listening to Jim speak Vulcan, Orion, or Andorian always made him shake his head and laugh.
Guess... Bones hated Jim's fucking guessing games, but he wouldn't just let him give up. Metal. "It's a penlight."
Jim rolled his eyes, and pulled it around. It was an old fashion metal coffee drip pot, "Found it in an antique store." He gave a brilliant grin, and brought around his other hand, "And some strong as hell pre-ground coffee."
Bones looked over at the pot. "Lemme see that," he asked, reaching out for the coffee pot. It was old as shit, yeah, and Bones could smell that metallic tang about it. "You brought me coffee," he said happily, a grin on his face.
"Sure did," Jim smirked fiercely, "Do I get your eternal gratitude for this?"
"What did you have in mind, kid?" Bones asked, raising an eyebrow and giving Jim a teasing grin of his own. "Cause you know, I do love me some coffee."
Jim slowly walked forward, leaning over Bones and murmuring, "Well, you're an intelligent man, Doctor... I'm sure you can think of something."
Fuck, Jim was sex on legs... Bones was more aware than almost anyone on campus about Jim's success rate among the cadets, but still, he wasn't ever really prepared for that raw sexuality to be aimed at him, even playfully. Jim used to flirt with him a lot, back when they first met but it had dwindled down as the months and years went by. He honestly didn't think Jim meant it when he came on to him, as he never seemed to really try that hard, and in the back of his head Bones felt like Jim saw him as a replacement for his brother, someone safe who wouldn't leave him.
Bones accepted that, and was more than happy to be whatever Jim needed him to be... but when Jim looked at him like that ... fuck. "I seem to be drawing a blank, Jim," he grinned.
Jim leaned in even closer, enough that Bones could smell the pumpkin of the muffin and the hops of the beer on Jim's breath. Their lips almost brushed, "Means... I must be doing my job," He whispered.
"You must be pretty lonely," Bones answered back, not backing away, "if you're looking for fun with an old guy like me." Bones grabbed his bottle and started to take a swig from it. As he lowered the bottle down, before he could pull it again from his mouth, Jim was right there. Jim ran the tip of his tongue up the neck of the bottle and ringed the mouth.
"...Don't see any old man. Just you." His voice was a quiet husk.
It was a good thing he wasn't any drunker, Bones thought, shivering inside, or he'd be dragging Jim inside that tent and fucking the shit out of him... and that would probably be the end of their friendship. But fuck, Kirk was good at what he did, and knew exactly what he was doing to win this round. Bones knew that he'd push and push him until he gave up or gave in...
So Bones watched him tongue-fuck his beer bottle and sighed. "Yeah, just me," he repeated casually, taking the bottle back and finishing it, closing his eyes as he swallowed. "Coffee should be good in the morning, right?"
A soft chuckle and Jim moved back to his side of the fire, "Damn right. Made sure it was nice and strong. You can get a caffeine rush off the smell alone."
There was safety now that Jim was further away, and Bones relaxed. The images were still in his mind of Jim and that fucking beer bottle. Shit, he thought, laying back down onto the ground. Silence, comfortable for one person and not for the other, reigned for several moments. Bugs chirped from the edge of the lake, the fire crackled. Jim pulled something out of his pocket and fiddled with it, frowning, before unfolding something. It was a small folded white... paper? Leonard leaned over, watching, until Jim had finished setting it up.
"Remember that movie we were supposed to see but never got to? Downloaded it to this," He waved something in the air between them that looked like a tiny padd, "And now we can watch it." He put it down on the ground and hit a green glowing button, and it projected up onto the little screen he had set up. "Gotta make do when you don't have a wall to project on."
Bones gave him an approving grunt, and they spent the next two hours watching phasers blazing and kidnapping plots broken up by the pilot hero who somehow managed to destroy his enemy's stronghold and end up in bed with the alien princess. He liked watching Jim as much as the movie. The kid was unable to sit still, moving, twitching, his feet fidgeting with every action sequence, as if he were imaging himself there doing it better. By the end of the movie, Jim turned to Bones and grinned.
"Worth every second. That was great. They have no idea about how stuff like that should go down but still - Derek was a good hero for this." Jim bounced a little in place, then froze. He wrinkled his nose, wiping something from it before looking up at the sky, "...Shit, don't tell me it's gonna rain. It was supposed to be clear tonight!"
Looking up at the sky as it started drizzling down on him. "Guess that tent's comin' in handy tonight at least." He dragged his sleeping bag inside, along with some of the other gear that didn't need to get wet. Pulling off his clothes, he flopped on top of his bag and chuckled, watching as Jim was doing the same. "Always somethin' on these trips, isn't it?" he yawned.
"Fucking hell, yea..." Jim grumbled about the drizzle and sat down on his own sleeping bag. He held up the device they had been watching the movie on, "I've got a few more movies on this thing..." He suddenly cursed and vanished out through the flaps of the tent. He came back later, now a bit drippy, looking annoyed, "Fire and the wood's got a cover over it since we can't do jack shit with wet wood."
Bones tossed a towel at him. "Don't get into that bag wet, you'll never get the smell out," he mumbled, yawning. Looking over at Jim, who didn't look happy anymore, Bones sat back on his elbows. "Sorry, you need any more help?"
"I need tons of it," Jim laughed, and he started to strip out of his clothes before working on drying himself off with the towel.
Snorting at that, Bones rolled back over. "Night, Jim," he called out, tucking his arm under his pillow and closing his eyes. Soon he could hear Jim's soft breathing, the little noises he made when he slept.
It was hot in there, but Bones slept like the dead for most of the night, his sleeping bag open. He dreamt, images of the previous day, the cycle ride drive down, the heat of the Mexican landscape, warm even in the winter... and Jim, Jim under him, on top of him, behind him. Jim naked and wanton and making these noises every time Bones touched his skin.
Flipping around, Bones sighed. He stretched out, mostly sleeping, and hard, so hard it hurt.
One hand trailed down to his cock and squeezed, the images in his head now of Jim, kneeling in front of him, looking up at him with those 'fuck me' eyes as he sucked Bones' cock, his head bobbing up and down. Fuck, it was good, he thought, thrusting slowly into his hand, Jim's mouth hot as a furnace as Bones held his head in place, fucking that mouth, Jim's lips stretched wide around him.
Forgetting where he was, forgetting there was someone in the tent with him, Bones just groaned aloud as he touched himself.
When Jim woke up, it took him a few minutes to pull his mind together. He gave a slow, lazy stretch in his sleeping bag and breathed in deeply. The air felt good, crisp... like after a rain storm. Hell, he loved being out in nature again. Just doing this after the hell that was the last semester almost made it worth his w--
Something caught his attention. Jim went silent, waiting to hear it again, ears straining in the silence. He caught it again moments later, and he slowly turned over in his sleeping bag. It took him a good few sleepy seconds to realize what he was witnessing. There was a steady, sluggish movement at groin-level in Bones' sleeping bag, and Jim heard the quiet groan that followed his discovery. ...Fuck, he's jerking off... He knew he should have turned over right that second, put his back to Bones and gave him some semblance of privacy. After all, wasn't the first time one or the other of them had caught the other doing just that sort of thing in their dorm room.
But.... this time? He was only inches from Bones, listening to those quiet sounds echoing in his ears. He risked a glance to Bones' face, and blinked when he saw the other's face still relaxed, eyes closed. Is he asleep? Jim wondered to himself, licking his lips. Couldn't deny that his body was responding to those sounds. Hell, he'd wanted Bones practically from their very first meeting. It had just gotten worse after that, every time Bones had denied him... until, well, it just been stupid to keep trying. Didn't mean he didn't still love to tease the hell out of Bones when he got the chance, didn't love to tease himself with glimpses and, well, exactly what he was doing now...
...Fuck.
He reached down and slowly slid his hand around his own cock, fisting it slowly. He was already half hard just from listening, the desire to crawl up there and unzip that sleeping bag, nuzzle Bones' cock and suck him off until he cried out.
Bones twisted around, his back arching slowly as he stretched and swallowed. "Fuck," Jim heard him whispered, breathing hard, moving as if he were trying to hurry.
Jim went very still, his hand freezing where it squeezed tight around his cock. He forced his breath to slow down, pretending to remain asleep. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck. He just listened silently, his body almost quivering with how turned on he was.
Bones' hand moved faster, his breathing coming in soft pants now, eyes shut tightly.
"Ah, yeah J-" Bones groaned, quiet as a whisper, his body shaking as he pumped twice more into his hand and came with an anguished grunt. It took every bit of willpower for Jim not to either whimper or come or whimper while coming as he listened to that finale. His cock was complaining about the grip he had holding onto it, trying to physically hold back what he didn't want to have happen.
Jim could hear Bones sighing, rolling around, shifting as he sat up. A moment later and he heard the tent flap open and Jim was alone in the tent. It didn't take long for him to throw open the sleeping bag and rock up into his own hand, pressing his forearm against his lips and biting into it to muffle any cries. He came harder then he could remember in years, his whole body shaking with the force of it. He fell back against the ground, eyes closed as he let his forearm fall. His breathing was hard, and his body had turned into jello. Just a minute... Jim allowed himself to recover, also giving Bones that minute of privacy, before he got up. He tried to figure out if what he had just done was wrong instead of just being super fucked up. Bones had made it damn clear that he didn't want anything to do with James T. Kirk and sex. He did his best to respect that, even if he failed some of the time.
Climbing to his feet proved to be an effort. Jim let out a breath as he finally stood in the tent, grabbing the towel he had used last night to dry himself off and wiping his hand and stomach off. He'd give it a fast wash in the lake. The towel was flipped to lay over his shoulder before he left the tent-- fuck.
The tarp he had set up last night hadn't held. He saw it dangling in a nearby tree instead of protecting the firewood like he had attempted to do.
"Not gonna start a fire with that," Bones called out, coming from around the corner. His hair and face were wet, as if he'd been washing up.
"...Nope." Jim looked to Bones, then gave a lazy grin, "How 'bout a ride into town for some breakfast? Just give me a minute to dunk my ass in the lake."
Bones stretched, arms high above his head. "Yeah," he agreed. "Yeah, that sounds good. I'm hungry enough to eat a horse this morning. Gonna get dressed," he added, grinning over at Jim before heading back into the tent.
...Well, one disaster averted. Breakfast sounded good. Breakfast with Bones sounded better.