Dr. Leonard McCoy has left the Enterprise. (just_bones) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2013-03-11 17:19:00 |
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Leonard McCoy had been through one hell of a week. His research projects were already demanding enough, now he had to deal with random perusals through his head thanks to some insane anti-SHIELD organization (as if the protesters weren’t already enough), and Pike was proving to be the most difficult patient he’d ever treated. But he was determined to set most of those issues aside, even if it was only for one evening. Some of the other refugees who were acquainted with space travel were setting out for a night on the town. While Leonard was fully determined that dancing was not on tonight’s list of activities for him, he was in great need-- much more than he was willing to admit-- of a night of frivolous entertainment. And that was exactly what he’d gotten. Loath as he was to admit it, he enjoyed being around a few of those people, and it didn’t hurt that Jim was there, either. It made him think back to weekends at the Academy. Even then, coming off of the divorce and losing his daughter, he’d managed a few hours of carefree enjoyment with some of the other cadets. Now, after the Narada, starting the mission on board the Enterprise, and trying to navigate New York City, 2013, those moments were few and far between. Luckily enough, Leonard had been plied with enough drinks at the beginning of the night to loosen the heavy set of his shoulders and the firm set of his downturned mouth. He wasn’t drunk enough to dance, but he’d had enough-- the fact that he was happily sitting on the sidelines of the dance floor was proof enough of that. Leonard smiled as Jim approached the small table they’d claimed for themselves with another round of drinks. “And what’re we toasting to this round, Jimmy?” he asked, southern accent presenting itself more prominently than before with every syllable. “Your future hangover. Or waffles. Why don’t we toast to waffles? Maybe if we talk about them enough they’ll magically appear for us tomorrow,” he teased, grinning ear to ear as he slid in next to the other man. Jim could feel the sweat trickle down his neck, the back of his shirt clinging a tad uncomfortably from the perspiration. “Are you still determined to sit over here like a wallflower? I thought you southern gentlemen were supposed to know the importance of dancing.” He liked Bones when he was like this. When he was having fun despite himself. He wasn’t sure what had brought it on, but he was too intent on enjoying it to ask too many questions. “What about you, old man? What do you think deserves our toast?” McCoy laughed quietly at Jim’s suggestions. Waffles didn’t sound so bad right now-- especially from that diner that Kitty had dragged him to-- but that’d be better for tomorrow afternoon when he was in need of something sugary caked with fat. He couldn’t help but be happy-- Jim’s smile was utterly infectious, and McCoy couldn’t think of a reason in the world to feel anything else. “I damn well do know about dancing, I went to cotillion like my mother made me, and I know enough to know that out there’s got little to do with it,” he said, gesturing toward the crowded floor in front of them. He relieved Jim of one of the glasses, briefly inspecting it before offering an approving nod at its contents. At this point, it didn’t really matter what Jim was plying him with. “There’s nothing interesting about all that rubbing and gyrating and whatever else you want to call it. Where’s the mystery? The seduction?” McCoy questioned before he remembered that waxing poetic about his ideas regarding lust and romance were something better kept to himself. “I’m just saying I don’t see the point in laying all my cards on the table so fast.” “I’d like to toast to our good fortune, kid.” McCoy raised his glass and clinked it against Jim’s. “Don’t know anywhere else I’d rather be right now, regardless of what universe we’re in,” he said before he downed his drink. “It’s a tease, Bones. One big sweaty tease,” he said, wrapping an arm around Bones as he pointed to the crowd in front of them. “You’re telling me you can’t see any use in roaming hands? In touches that last a little too long? Some people don’t have months to get to the good stuff. There can be a lot of fun in laying it all out there. Trust me.” Jim knew that wasn’t Bone’s thing. He was a wine and dine sort and that was well and good, but Jim was never any good at putting his feet down in one place. “Good fortune it is.” Jim smiled around his drink, stopping himself from making some smart comment at McCoy’s good natured remark. “You and me, Bones. Any universe, any decade. I’ll be fine as long as you can bail me out.” “You’ve got the sweaty part right,” McCoy said, eying Jim from the corner of his eye. Not that he minded too much, but he wasn’t about to admit that to anybody. He was used to Jim’s tactile nature. All in all, it wasn’t so difficult to adapt to being around somebody who was constantly tossing an arm over his shoulders or slapping a hand to his back, especially when McCoy had very nearly gotten used to being totally alone in the world. “I’m not saying that,” Leonard said, his throat suddenly dry as Jim continued to speak. “I’d just look damn ridiculous, and that’s a whole lot of pretense to put up if all you want is a roll in the hay,” he continued. “You usually know within a few moments of meeting somebody if you want to sleep with them, right?” he asked, turning his focus from the dance floor to give Jim his full attention. “Don’t worry, a little sweat is good for you. Washes right off.” Kirk stretched back, letting his head fall back against the cushion of the booth. His body was tired from dancing and humming from drink. It was a good place to be in. “You always make me sound like a slut. I know what I like. I can usually spot it quickly. That’s not a bad thing, you know. That doesn’t mean I brush things off just because they don’t spark my interest at first glance. Sometimes the best ones are the ones that sneak up on you.” Jim waved over another round of drinks. Bones probably didn’t need another one and he was certainly going to feel it when he stood up, but it wasn’t like it would kill him either. “And for the record, I don’t think you’d look ridiculous at all. Not once you loosened up a bit.” “I never said there was anything wrong with being a slut, or being able to enjoy what you want,” McCoy replied with a shrug. He’d done a lot of different things with a lot of different people immediately after his divorce had been finalized, but none of it had made Leonard feel good. There was a wide pool of willing and able partners, McCoy just hadn’t fully committed to dipping back in since starting the Academy. “I didn’t say that right. I usually know within a few moments if I’d go there or not. Just because I haven’t doesn’t mean that I haven’t thought about it with plenty of people,” he explained. He was built for serious relationships, monogamy was important to him, but that didn’t mean that he’d been celibate for the last four years, either. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re the one here with the healthy sex life,” he added, raising a hand to pat the back of Jim’s head. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Jim,” he replied, rolling his eyes. Leonard was glad that Jim and the others were enjoying themselves, but he was happy to sit on the sidelines and watch the action unfold in front of him. “Healthy enough,” he agreed, not bothering to hide his gaze. “I’ve had more. I’ve had less. I’m not sure I have as much sex as you think I have, but I appreciate the confidence.” Truth was he had more than enough for someone not in any sort of relationship. He was careful not to sleep with anyone who lived in the Tower, knowing how messy that could get. It didn’t mean he was completely opposed, but it would be a special case. As special as he would allow something to be at any rate. “At least the table will always be guarded, I guess there is something to be said for that.” Kirk knew when a battle was hopeless. Getting Bones to do anything he was uncomfortable with was nearly impossible. He might be able to work it, but he wasn’t sure that was the best use of his energy. “So, did you find anyone who caught your eye? After all, you’re a man who knows what he wants almost instantly.” “How much sex do you think I think you have?” McCoy asked. He couldn’t help laughing at himself then-- perhaps a sure sign that his last drink was probably one too many. He tugged distractedly at the collar of his shirt for a brief moment to give his hands something to do. “Fuck, nevermind,” he said, waving the question off. He’d managed to keep the green-eyed monster of jealousy at bay for a long time, especially tonight-- with no small amount of thanks to the alcohol that had warmed his belly and loosened his limbs. Well, his tongue had loosened itself up as well, but in a way that was generally more pleasant than when McCoy typically decided to run his mouth. “I’ve enjoyed watching you, more fun than I would probably have being in the middle of it all myself, ” McCoy said with a shrug, not realizing that the words were out of his mouth before it was too late to take them back. Well, it wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever said, that was certain. “Unless this is one of those times when I’m supposed to be doing things to make new friends like you want?” he asked with uncertainty. “There’ve been plenty of pretty people wandering through here that I’d be happy to entertain for a night,” he said as he relaxed back into his seat. “But I know that the lust’s not all I want, Jim,” McCoy added. “Not enough, Bones. Not nearly enough.” He was under no illusion that McCoy was a hermit, but Jim couldn’t help but worry that he was locking himself away in his room. Bones was working so there was some interaction, but it hardly counted. “I have a funny feeling you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. Still, it’s nice to have someone else’s hands do the work every now and then.” If Jim wasn’t smiling before he certainly was now. “Should have guessed you liked to watch. Glad I could give you a show, Bones. I do like to go above and beyond for my crew.” Jim tightened his hold on Bones just a bit before patting him on the shoulder with a laugh. “I’ve decided I like you without friends. It means I can demand all of your attention. I’d have to get jealous otherwise and that’s an exhausting emotion I try to avoid. “ Jim raised an eyebrow at the idea of Bones being interested in entertaining anything. “You’re not going to get more than lust if you hide away in this booth all night. You romantic types, always making things more work than they need to be.” “And how am I supposed to argue with that, Jim? I can’t say that I don’t like having somebody else touch me,” he explained. That admission itself wasn’t any sort of revelation, but the mental images it brought up were distracting. Especially when Jim was sitting close against him with his arm slung out around his shoulders. Not to mention the idea of Jim crawling into bed with whomever he fancied was simultaneously arousing and envy-inducing. Fuck, why did they always get into these sorts of conversations when they were drunk? “Brat,” McCoy replied, rolling his eyes at Jim. There were a few people here that he’d call friends, or maybe they were more acquaintances, he couldn’t quite tell. McCoy had started off trying not to form connections with people-- then he’d been operating under the delusion that they would only be spending a short amount of time here. He couldn’t help but wonder about when they went back (because not getting back to the Enterprise was not an option)-- would they remember what happened here? Would he miss the people and places? “Well, I don’t see why you should be jealous of anybody,” McCoy said. “And I don’t want anybody out there as bad as I want what I want,” McCoy replied, attention focused on Jim. He was well aware of just how convoluted that statement was, but at least he’d managed to direct his words away from another much more telling admission. “Besides, I’ve never been afraid of a little hard work,” he added. “That’s step one, buddy. I can’t deal with another person with vulcan-like sexual habits.” Not that Spock was lacking in the love department. He was probably getting it on the regular, strange as that was to think about. Good for him. Apparently relationships worked for some people. Jim couldn’t help but poke at Bones. While he knew he wouldn’t be talking about this if he was too uncomfortable, there was a sort of discomfort the other man seemed to have with the subject. To Jim, sex was possibly the most liberating experience you could have, as long as everyone was on the same page. “No Bones, you’re not afraid of that.” Jim knew he wasn’t going to rush into anything. That was part of the reason it was fun to tease him. There would be some night when Bones actually did take someone home and Jim would have to be scooped up off the floor. “Don’t worry, Bones, I’m only teasing you. Besides, I think at this point you know more people than I do. That fancy little clinic of yours has made you perfectly respectable.” “Believe me, I get the urge more than once every seven years,” McCoy replied. Leonard shifted his body, turning in close to inspect Jim. This was how McCoy liked him best-- blissed out from total happiness, not some adrenalin-fueled high that usually resulted from making a cavalier and dangerous decision. “What would you do if you met somebody who made you want more, Jim?” he asked. McCoy had an idea of what Jim would do, the Jim who’d wrestled control of the Enterprise from both Pike and Spock, the Jim who didn’t believe in no-win scenarios, the Jim who had a lucky clover shoved up his ass and just knew how to get what he wanted, but Leonard had never asked him outright. “What I want is the Enterprise. That’s my love and I got her.” Then he was taken away by a portal, but Jim could not accept a reality where he wasn’t going back. That was what he was meant to do, this was nothing more than a strange little detour. Kirk couldn’t imagine picking someone over his ship. The Enterprise was his life, it was where he was supposed to be. Perhaps it was selfish to focus on his wants alone, but it felt more selfish to allow someone in only to turn them away when they made him choose. Starfleet wasn’t the life for a family. His parents were a perfect example of that. “I’d have to find someone who could accept being second to a ship and if I loved them enough I wouldn’t let them settle like that. Maybe I’d send them to you.” And suddenly Leonard was reminded of why he never engaged Jim in these sorts of conversations. His stomach dropped. The idea of choosing a career and a bucket of bolts over a relationship was counter to anything that he ever hoped for anybody-- and maybe it was because Leonard had made that choice for himself, to find a cure for his father’s disease and shoulder on with his research, while his family moved on without him. All that had gotten him was a heartache the likes of which he’d never known before. Not that he missed the ex now, but Leonard still labored under the weight of his past decisions. Maybe he was the delusional one, idealistic in his hopes that despite fucking his life up once already, he’d get the chance to have it all again and do it right the second time around. Maybe he just needed to stop doing this to himself. “And I think anybody that sets up with you has to have the wherewithal to remind you that not everything you say goes,” he replied, tone light despite the dark turn his thoughts had taken. “Especially if I’m your idea of a goddamn consolation prize,” he added, his voice still calm. “Bones,” he said calmly, pressing his forehead against the side of his friend’s face. “You’re not the consolation prize.” He pulled back, instantly regretting going down this path of conversation. “I’d send them to you because you could treat them right. You’d do all those things that would make a person swoon. I wouldn’t remember dates or ask how their day was. I’d be too busy focusing on what I’m doing. You’re the one who puts people first. That’s not me now and it’s never going to be. I’m more of a in-the-moment kind of guy.” There were very few people that Kirk kept near him for the long haul. Different people filled different needs in his life and everyone could be replaced if need be. There were a few exceptions to that, but it was far from the norm. Bones was one of them, and Kirk was pretty sure he knew. He better, because he wasn’t going to be told. Leonard tamped down on the desire to point out how Jim was wrong, how he hadn’t done those things until he’d learned better. He knew that it would be no good, just as well as he knew that trying to change Jim’s mind-- about his priorities and what he wanted-- was practically pointless. Besides, he loved Jim the way that he was. It was something he always confronted in his personal life, the desire to heal and fix where there was nothing wrong or broken. Jim was who he was, just like Leonard himself was his own person, and trying to change something so fundamental to his person so he could fit Leonard’s own whims and personal ideals would rob him of that. “Alright, kid. This shit’s getting too sappy, even for me, so if you want an opportunity to watch me make a fool of myself, here’s your chance,” Leonard offered. He clapped a hand to the back of Jim’s neck for a moment before he abandoned the seat he’d been warming all night. “You coming or what?” he asked with a nod toward the floor. It was always troubling to have Bones point out that things had gone sappy. “Not going to argue with you there, old man.” Jim followed him out of the booth, swinging an arm around the small of his back. His own sweat had all but dried since his little break, but he wasn’t afraid of getting back out there. Jim was suddenly reminded of New Years, but Bones was in far better shape to walk. Bones letting loose in public was going to become a habit if they weren’t careful. Living in the past did have some benefits. “Don’t worry, I won’t take any video. One of us has to have some dignity left when this night ends and I don’t plan on it being me.” |