legendary_hands | The breaking point... (for winscenario)

The breaking point... (for winscenario)

Eventually the noise and the rush died down. All the people from the crew were out of medical and he didn’t have the nurses following him around insisting to fix his own problems that just weren’t necessary to fix. Others had bigger problems like Spock or Jim and his unquenchable desire to be the galaxy’s damn punching bag. But all that had to end sometime and the adrenaline crash had to finally take hold.

At least he made it till after the birthday party he managed to somehow get together in between patients and not sleeping.

Sleeping was a luxury he didn’t have. Even with time, sleep just didn’t happen or all he could see when he closed his eyes were the bodies floating in space or the shriveled forms of people he couldn’t save. Or that awful feeling of flying and falling and crashing every time he laid down. It wore him down to the bone and he almost wanted to laugh. Because without that adrenaline to keep him pushing forward, it felt a little like losing everything. The strength in his legs, the ability to stand up straight and just the all-around ability to function. Most importantly, the ability to not think about how goddamn much it hurt like a knife in his gut when stupid shit came back to the forefront of his mind.

The admiral insisted he take leave. The ‘traumatic’ experience – damn right it was traumatic – takes times to get past and ease back into the work. Thing was, without that adrenaline and push forward, all that left him with for company was himself. Himself and his own damn brain to bring up things best left buried. Not even the bottle of whiskey he dug up was doin’ any good makin’ him think less. It just left him in silence in his assigned quarters to mull over what bothered him over and over again.

His fingers ran over the side of the bottle slowly, he honestly didn’t drink more than a third of it yet. He shouldn’t have drank any of it. Leonard promised himself after the divorce and losing JoAnna this wouldn’t happen again. But that was before he had to deal with this… thing. This ridiculous malarkey of emotions all balled up in a fine mess in his chest. His fingers tightened sharply around the neck of the bottle.

It’s not his fault.

Could ya really blame someone for something like this? For not realizing how much it stung like salt in an open wound to always be over looked? To watch Spock get the thanks and he got nothing. Not to say he hated the snark and joking he and Jim had between them. He enjoyed it… but this time? This time it cut deep. The things he had to do, the fears he had to overcome, all on top of his still raw feelings about Jim up and dyin’ on him not that long ago.

For years he told himself it was fine. That’s how Jim was. He didn’t really thank him for things, and quite honestly, at the Academy it didn’t bother him. Then there was Spock. And where the Vulcan was growin’ on him like a fungus, it ate at him little by little each time Jim poured on the gratitude and praise to the guy and never looked twice at him. And maybe it was – no it really was – his own damn fault for being in love with his best friend, but it just cut deeper each time it happened.

The doctor hated flying. Hated it with a passion. But he did it cause Jim asked him to. Sure he yelled and screamed, but he did it. Maybe that was his fault as well. If he didn’t argue, then Jim would get the picture. But he was just lyin’ to himself. Cause he didn’t yell or complain when Jim died. He cried his way through it in the silence and told himself he would break his oath and play god just this time. Just once more. He took life away once, maybe it balanced out his sins if he could get it back just once.

But Spock got the credit there, too. It wasn’t shared credit, it was all the credit.

God help him, but it just wasn’t right. It burned in his throat far harsher than the whiskey and felt like it burned all the way to his chest and head with a sort of anger. Anger built on confusion, frustration, and self-reproach for even feelin’ this way to begin with.

It’s my job to be a doctor. To save lives. I don’t need recognition.

But it wasn’t recognition that he wanted. He could care less about anyone else on the ship realizing just what he did. What things he broke or overcame for one person. One person that seemed oblivious as hell about what he felt. Just one person…

Something just broke. A long thin thread unraveled and finally snapped as his arm flung out over the table top and sent the bottle of amber liquid flying across the small room and slammed with a crash into the metallic wall. The sound was shrill as a wet slosh along with the muffled sound of shards of glass rolled across the floor filled the room. His data PADD – that had laid off to the side – slid off in the motion, hitting against the floor with a clatter of too loud to not have broken something. And in the silence that followed, hazel eyes fixed on the fluid trailing across the floor, curling around the broken glass pieces and off into open space. How damn poetic.

The spark of anger that came with that thought had him picking up the tumbler next in what he damn well knew was a tantrum and threw it at the door this time. Cause tantrum or not, it felt good to just… let it out for once.

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The fact that something was wrong with the doctor didn’t even cross Jim’s mind. Well, not any more wrong than with every other crew member, after everything they’d been through. Counselling was mandatory, but even then that only did so much, and Jim for one was never particularly keen on talking about all the things he’d been through. Their crash in Altamid and chasing Krall back to Yorktown to stop him was only the most recent of those risky situations, and despite having put his life on the line, he hadn’t come nowhere as near to losing it as he had back when they went up against Khan.

Jim was even less eager to talk about that. And despite numerous attempts from mandatory counsellor meetings, Jim knew very well that he hadn’t shared anything deeper than what lay on the surface. He didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t want to deal with it. He wanted to forget about it and move on with his life and not let it get to him— any of this. He figured that if he tried hard enough, he’d eventually succeed.

And he had people standing by him, too. People who supported him, who helped him in more ways than he could count. Spock had always been valuable and reliable as his first officer, and over the years they had grown much closer as friends, but Bones was… well, Jim wasn’t sure if he could ever put to put to words just how important Bones was to him. A close friend at first, someone who’d helped him through boring classes and exam seasons, but their friendship had grown in so many senses that at this point Jim was completely sure that Bones was the most important person in his life.

Which only really made him feel especially guilty when he realized he cared about Bones a whole lot more than as just a friend.

But that was something he’d just learned to deal with, another thing to add to the list of stuff he buried deep and learned to ignore so he could be minimally functional. Sometimes the baggage felt like a little too much, but he was lacking on options, so. This’d have to do.

And things were fine, really. They’d made it through yet another dangerous situation (just barely, granted, but still), and everything was patching up slowly. Some things wouldn’t be as easy to handle, some losses wouldn’t be as quick to get over, but Jim had faith in his crew. They were strong, and they’d made it before— they’d make it now, too.

To think that Bones could be having any particular issues hadn’t come to mind, though it probably should have. Of course, even if it did, this would be the last thing crossing his mind. Jim had never even thought about it in these terms, honestly. If he thanked Spock more often than not it was just because he’d always felt a little like the vulcan needed more reassurance, whereas with Bones, he always figured he’d know just how grateful Jim was for everything he did for him, for being part of his life, how much he just meant to him.

So he didn’t think there was anything to address, not until the moment he opened the door to Bones’s office and only barely managed to duck in time to not get a whiskey glass to his face.

“Jesus—!” His attention shifted quickly from the glass to the doctor, though, his frown gaining a worried edge to it as he saw the state he was in. “What the hell? What’s going on, Bones?”

When he finally just let go and let his emotions take over, he’d not really considered the idea of anyone just walking in. Most would ping first. Ask for permission before entering his space. He couldn’t place a finger on when, but his space somehow became Jim’s space and that necessity for decorum disappeared. The first thing he felt as the glass sailed past Jim’s head felt a little like ice water sliding down his spine. A bone chilling horror of mixed surprise and shock.

His eyes shifted over Jim quickly, ascertaining any injury before finally letting out the breath he was holding. Leonard thanked whatever god there was out there for giving the idiot good reflexes before closing his eyes. Reaching up, he pinched the bridge of his nose and focused on just breathing. Reining in the wash of emotions, he let that shocked frozen feeling bleed out of him first before trying to say anything.

Jim was the last person he wanted seeing this crap. This tantrum of all things. And what he wanted most he knew he wasn’t going to get right now. Not with Jim looking at him like that. “Now’s really not the time, Jim.” His voice was icily even, controlled and regulated considering how much he felt inside. “I don’t suppose you can come back later.” The lack of inflection to his words showed just how little he believed that was going to happen.

Breathing in slowly, he opened his eyes and looked at the fractured tumbler rolling off behind Jim into the rest of the room beyond. The doctor didn’t dare look at Jim. Not right now. Not when he felt so utterly raw inside. Leaning forward, he put his palms on the desk and lowered his head trying frantically to reorganize his brain into neat little compartments and put the ones he didn’t want to deal with somewhere lost in the basement or something. Turning his head just a little, he looked at the spiderweb of cracks scrawling over his PADD on the floor and finally just closed his eyes. Anger then resignation. Damn it, but he didn’t want to deal with the next step to all this mess. Not with Jim standing right there.

“I may not be fine right now. No point in lyin’… but I will be. So don’t go worryin’ over this.”

For what may be worth, Jim didn't seem particularly upset about Bones tossing a glass at him. Well, not at him, but in his general direction without actually meaning to. No, he was worried above all else, because he had seen Bones at his lowest and frankly, this seemed even worse than then.

And Jim didn't like it one bit.

Forgetting about the glass for now, he stepped farther into the room and closed the door behind him, that alone answering any doubts about whether or not Jim would be leaving. If there were even any. "Fat chance," he said softly, looking around the room and deciding that the mess Bones had made wasn't nearly as important as the miserable state he was in. So he stepped around the desk instead, leaning back against it right next to where Bones was sitting on his chair, hands on his lap for now as he watched the doctor intently.

"Come on, Bones. Talk to me. What happened?"

His posture got straighter when he felt more than saw Jim move closer. One more thing he didn't want to do was get weird around Jim. He worked hard at not letting himself act differently with Jim, but right now he really didn't have it in him to control everything. And how could he just sweep away the fact that his outburst just now was, well, about him. McCoy refused to say it was because of him. No, this was because Leonard couldn't deal with how insignificant he felt.

Right. That word about covered it. Insignificant.

Leaning back in his chair, he tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. So... how did he 'talk' to Jim about that? He almost wanted to laugh at that conundrum. "What happened..." His voice came out more sardonic than he wanted it to. And quite frankly, he was too damn tired to control that as well. "What hasn't happened?" He started to bark out the death toll numbers and just barely bit back his own tongue. The last thing Jim needed to hear was something he knew damn well Jim knew. Probably knew better than he did. Of all the people that crewed the ship, he and Jim were most aware of every name on that death toll list of names.

Drawing in a sharp breath, he shook his head, he ran a hand roughly through his hair. He felt tossed about at a rough sea in a row boat. And he felt so damn lost. "I close my eyes and I see their faces and you can't tell me you don't see it either. And I swear to God, Jim... I can't count how many times I wake up with a start and ask the damn computer if you are still--"

He stopped, his heart aching in his chest at that slip. Well, in for a penny in for a pound... "Still ask if you are breathing. That whatever damn miracle I pulled out of a hat stuck. And if it's not that, I can still feel the shakes and that... that vertigo from that damn ship." What if he didn't catch Jim that day? What if his lack in piloting skills failed him?

Too much. He had too much to put into words. And his hands... his hands were shaking.

"And how many people did I actually save in all this? And how many did I..." His fingers curled sharply into his palms to try and make them stop shaking. "I hate phasers. I hate hurtin' people." But who else could do it? He saved Spock at least and if he didn't go, who would have saved the Vulcan and the rest. He started to laugh sardonically. "And what would you have done without Spock if I'd not kept my shit together and sucked it up?"

Shit. Shit. Why did he have to go and say that?

Jim knew that the answer wouldn’t be a pleasant one, and he wasn’t the least bit surprised by what Bones brought up either. He was right too, Jim knew those numbers better than anyone, having read all the files on the various incidents and writing some of them himself. It was also something he tried not to think about much, because he knew that it could become crippling to focus on that. He’d get lost if he let himself focus too much on it, and get buried underneath the weight of the guilt and responsibility.

But he did understand how Bones was feeling about that. All those lives lost, and the feeling that he could’ve done so much more— he should have done so much more. Sometimes it wasn’t so easy to hold those thoughts in, and sometimes they all caved underneath the weight. Jim would be lying if he said he hadn’t had his moments where he just crumbled. Alone, too, where no one could see him or walk in.

Much like Bones, actually. The fact that Jim witnessed it was nothing but a fluke.

He did look a little more surprised at the revelation that Bones sometimes woke up with a fear that he may not be alive. A heavy feeling settled at the pit of his stomach at just hearing that, and he sat there, frozen in his spot, until Bones had spilled out all the words he had to, until he had shared more than he’d meant to.

Something that Jim was more or less aware of.

A few seconds of silence passed, then Jim looked around, grabbing a chair from nearby so he could take a seat next to Bones. His hands were still shaking and Jim reached for them, cupping them in his own, fingers curling into his palms as he tried to get his attention somehow.

“Guess I’d have died, then,” Jim answered with a weak smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Just like I’d have died back when we crashed into Earth, or when I was dropped off on that ice rock in the middle of nowhere. You have saved my life, Bones, and in more ways than you could possibly know. Just like you have saved other people, too. But sometimes... the only way out is to punch your way through.”

He squeezed Bones’s hands in his, gaze dropping a little. “I’m sorry... I’ve made you do those things. I’ve put you in those situations. I just know I can trust you no matter what.”

For a moment, he let the silence seep in. The tension in his shoulders made his hands shake worse instead of stop. He caught himself a few times in the last few days over washing his hands until he caught himself. By no means was he OCD, and he had enough in psychology to know he just needed to work out the mental problems behind it.

Leonard got so caught up in his mental maelestrom that he didn't hear the chair placed by his. He didn't notice anything until he felt Jim's hands on his. A gasp broke the silence and he almost pulled his hands away until he finally relaxed and let his hands move with the blonde's pull. His eyes moved to rest on that connection and hated himself just a little more. Jim didn't need this. Didn't need his insecurities and crap that shouldn't be Jim's to carry. "Like hell I'd do nothin' and let you die. Ever."

Setting his jaw, he closed his eyes at those words. The last thing he wanted to think about was Jim dying. Again. For a moment he still felt tempted to just let himself melt into Jim's touch and add a little more self loathing to his already mounting issues. "You didn't make me do anything."

He grumbled the words sharply as he moved finally pulled his hands away and stood up slowly. Moving away from the desk, he decided he just... needed to move. "I did it cause I knew I had to. Cause I can't let your reckless ass die. Cause I'm a doctor and a Starfleet officer and I better suck it up and get it done." Rubbing at his face slowly, he found he stopped moving. And maybe it hurt a little to hear Jim say things like that... The hell did he get off thinking it was just cause he felt obligated to do what Jim asked.

Turning slowly, he finally looked at Jim, his brow furrowed sharply. "Doin' things for you comes like a second nature. I don't do 'em cause your my captain. I do 'em cause you're so goddamn important to me that I can't not do 'em." Both hands rose to push into his hair. "And what gets me the most..." The real reason this hurt so much... "Is knowin' I'm just so damn insignificant no matter how damn hard I try."

Sometimes Jim really hated the way Bones closed in on himself, and then he hated himself for being such a hypocrite, when he sometimes did the very same thing. Still, it was hard to miss how things were just... unbalanced, sometimes. How Bones was always there to pick up his pieces and patch up his wounds, whereas Jim rarely ever so much as caught a glimpse of the things that weighed on the doctor's mind.

So right now, he was kind of... well, not glad, but relieved he could do this for him. Be here, hold his hands, hope his words didn't come out as weightless platitudes, because he really didn't mean them that way. He wanted them to mean something, anything at all, even if they couldn't fix things for Bones.

"I know you wouldn't," Jim smiled, his tone warm and fond, just a faint trace of guilt to it. Knowing how far Bones would be willing to go just to keep him safe. But then he knew he'd go to the ends of the known universe to do just the same for him, so.

It felt almost like the ground disappeared from beneath his feet when Bones pulled his hands away, but he didn't stop him. Tensing and sitting more upright, his hands settled on his lap again, blue eyes following the doctor attentively, not wanting to miss a single shift, a single word.

He wasn't quite sure what to say to all that, though. His eyebrows knit together, and when he spoke, his voice came out more confused than anything else. "What? You're not insignificant. Where'd you get that idea?"

Angling his head to the side, he couldn't help but note the shift in his posture. Jim always had this 'air' about him. Like he knew what to do and when to do it. Hell, he knew how, too. Least that's what it always felt like. Not like he'd not seen the man falter before. He knew Jim had been faltering there before the entire mess on Altamid. And knowing that only made him feel lower about the entire mess.

Breathing slowly, he moved closer to Jim again. He hesitated a moment and closed his eyes before lowering down to his knees in front of him. This wasn't Jim's fault. Just a terrible situation of an imbalanced equation. Things just didn't come out the same on both sides and how could he hold that against him?

The doctor's hands moved to softly rest his hands on his knees gently before looking up into his eyes. "'M just talkin' out of my head, Jim. Things I gotta deal with and get over it." He furrowed his brow and lowered his head again, almost giving his own hands a look of reproach for still trying to shake where they sat upon Jim's knees. Finally, his lashes lowered over his eyes as lips parted to draw in a slow breath.

But he knew Jim wouldn't accept just that. The man liked to scrutinize and take things apart till he figured them out. "It honestly didn't used to bother me so damn much. And I honestly don't think talkin' about it is gonna fix anything. Not this time, darlin'."

Bones wasn't wrong there, and even now Jim's mind was working at a dizzying speed, trying to put the pieces together and figure out what was bothering Bones so much. It showed on his face too, like when he was working on a riddle or playing a game of chess— or facing a particularly difficult mission while sitting on his chair. Except this time it felt much more important.

His eyes fell to Bones as he kneeled next to him, his hands almost immediately reaching for Bones's when he could still feel them threatening to shake all over again. That answer just wasn't good enough. It just wasn't good enough for him to forget about it and sweep it under the rug when it was affecting Bones this much.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe it won't fix anything," he started, knowing all too well that talking could only do so much. But silence just wasn't an option, not for him. "But maybe we can share the load, at least?"

As much as he wished he could take a guess at what had brought this on, right now he really had no idea. It probably showed on his face just how clueless he was about the whole thing— or else he'd have addressed it directly by now. "Please, Bones. Talk to me."

"Jim..." His voice strained on the i in his name as he sighed. The guy wouldn't let it go. And hell, he'd be lying if he was just a little flustered in a good way that Jim was putting a face like that on just cause he couldn't figure him out. It meant something to get that much focus out of James Tiberius Kirk. But it also hurt cause what good was it to tell Jim it was because of him he was a right mess?

Lowering her head, he let his forehead rest against the back of one of Jim's hands on his own. The touch felt so damn warm. Like it melted something in the nerves until all he wanted was to just see if that warmth could just run up his arms and into his chest or if that was just the feelin' that came with the moment and the emotions. "I can't lose you." He stressed the word even if his voice was so soft and quiet.

He wanted to do just that. Give more so Jim would open up himself about what was eatin' him up inside. But this was the kind of stuff that make or break relationships. Could he really take that kind of risk? "It's just a damn fool emotion." But would Jim let it go at that? Not likely.

Shouldn't he just spit it out? But how?

Lifting his head, he pinned Jim with as even a look as he could even as the desperation that filled his gaze. "Is what I do that much less than Spock? Or is it just cause he means more to you in some way that I can't? It's fine if that's what it is. I can... I can deal with it."

God, but he sounded like a teenage girl and he wanted to melt into the floor and disappear.

This was definitely something Jim was not going to let go. For better or worse, he wanted to know what was so bad that left Bones in this state, and to be perfectly honest, he doubted anything at all Bones could tell him would make him want to draw away. He knew the doctor well enough to know that whatever was weighing on his mind would never be enough for him to want to put any kind of distance between them.

But it was jarring in a whole different way to realize what the reason behind all this was. That he was the reason, he was the cause. That if anything or anyone at all was to blame for this, then it was him. And suddenly his look of confusion opened into an aching awareness, something that didn't quite shine with the light of this new knowledge, but felt like a dark gaping wound being torn open in his chest.

"Bones—" his voice faltered despite himself, but at least he managed not to let it crumble altogether. Taking a slow breath, his hands curled a little, fingertips pressing into Bones's palms. "Never... I never thought that. You've always done so much for me, more than you could possibly know. Every day, I'm so happy, so blessed that you're part of my life. There's no unit of measurement for just how much you mean to me."

Breathing in, he realized he shared a lot more than he intended to, but... hell, in for a penny, in for a pound, as they said. He swallowed down the knot in his throat and went on.

"No one can or will ever mean more to me than you do. No one. But I am sorry if— if I've ever made you feel that way. I thought you knew, so I never said it," which was his bad, he was well aware by now. "Thank you. Thank you for everything you've ever done for me. For all the times you saved my ass. For when you brought me back from the dead. For every moment you didn't just walk away, for just... being there. Being part of my life. Thank you."

That... that was far more than he expected. And where he'd felt knots in his back and shoulders as he prepared for the answer, he couldn't have begun to think he would get the words he received just now. A numb sort of shock stilled him first, before it melted into a strange sort of shock in his marginally widened eyes.

And god, then it felt warm as a summer day back home.

A kind of thawing out that started in his chest and slipped through his limbs and into his fingertips. Even his toes curled a little at the tingling sensation all through his nerves. The shock in his eyes softened into something warmer, pools of hazel darkening just a shade as he turned his hands over under Jim's so he could curl his fingers about Jim's gently. "Hey..." His voice came out softer, warm in that roughness that broke up that thick southern drawl. "Don't be thinkin' I'm upset with you. It ain't your doin' that I'm bein' overly sensitive about silly things like this."

He wouldn't forgive himself for hurting Jim even if he needed to hear those words like a flower prayin' for rain in the desert. "You're one of the best things to ever happen to me. "Swear to God, Jim, I'm never gonna up and walk away from you." Not unless he stopped breathin' and functionin'. "But... thanks. Thanks, I needed to hear that. Means the world - no, the whole damn galaxy to me." He smiled at Jim, warm and small but full of genuine adoration.

Honestly, Jim hadn't even thought too far ahead about what kind of reaction he'd get out of Bones with all that, but he was just glad that it was enough to dissipate some of those dark clouds looming over him. He was also glad, although more in a relieved sense, that he apparently managed not to be too obvious about how he really felt about Bones.

That'd hold. Probably for a very long time. Because more so than rejection, Jim couldn't bear the thought of Bones slowly pulling away from him after learning about all that.

"No, you're right," Jim shook his head, smiling again as his fingers curled around Bones's. "Guess I do thank Spock that much, huh? I always figured he needed to hear it more."

So no, it had nothing to do with him meaning any more to Jim. He did care deeply about the vulcan, but it was completely different.

"I'm still sorry. Guess I must've looked like kind of an ass to you, huh," he grinned, letting out a weak chuckle just before he took a long, deep but shaky breath. "I'll say it more often, I promise." Hell, after this whole thing, he was definitely never going to let it slip past him again.

"Think it might be the 'couldn't do this without you' talk you keep spillin' out like gushin' man pain on the floor." He arched a brow at Jim, purposely putting a teasing edge to the words . "Jokin' aside, just had a hard time. I get the whole... every person needs somethin' else from us." He softly squeezed Jim's hands. "I know I'm not the most sensitive person in the world. Not like I broadcast how I feel."

McCoy was about as good with emotions as a rock sometimes and he knew it. But damn it if he wasn't sensitive as hell to how Jim reacted to people. And Jim didn't just gush over anyone. It just surprised him that the blonde wasn't pickin' up on the fact that this came from jealousy and nothin' else.

"Yeah well, you're my 'ass' and I'm used to it anyhow." Rolling his eyes lightly, he looked up at Jim with a solid gaze. His hands tightened on Jim's as he fought that urge to reach up and try to smooth any line of worry or upset out of Jim's face and soothe out any negative emotion he found. "You don't need to change for me. Never want you to be any less than yourself." Jim never bent for anything or anyone, but he'd be lyin' if he said he didn't love it. Feeling like maybe he was one of a small few that mattered that much.

Arching a brow slowly, he weighed his options and what would be considered 'right' and 'too far' as he ran his gaze over Jim's face. In the end, he decided some gambles were worth taking.

So he used his hold on Jim's hands to yank him out of the chair and into him to hug him tight. One hand tangled into the dark blonde hair as he pressed his face into his shoulder and neck. "All I could think about was findin' you. Gettin' Spock back to you. Just... you are such a goddamn hero, Jim. You do all of it by yourself... and if I have to hold a fuckin' phaser and do what you can't do on your own. I'll do it. You are damn near priceless, Jim. If I have to fly and face weeks of vertigo and nightmares... it's a small price to pay if it got some of the load off your shoulders. Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?"

Jim actually laughed at that, although if he were to be honest right now, he knew Bones wasn't wrong there. Thinking back now, maybe he did put a little too much into it. Not that he didn't mean all those things he told Spock, mind, but that didn't mean he didn't have other people he was so very grateful for, and so very happy to have in his life.

Most importantly, the man kneeling in front of him. Which, now he though about it, felt a little weird and awkward. Still, he didn't point it out, at least not just yet— and then Bones pulled that move, yanking on his hands hard enough that Jim practically fell out of his chair and into his lap, unable to keep back a surprised yelp and a sudden laugh from slipping past his lips.

"Well, you're my Mister Sensitive, so I guess we'll just have to learn to live with that." As if they hadn't already. As if Jim couldn't practically feel Bones in his blood sometimes, in every cell and nerve that kept his brain alit. A feeling that was particularly difficult to ignore when he was this close to Bones, and when he could do nothing except wrap his arms around his shoulders and hold him close, one hand cupping the back of the doctor's head while the fingers of the other curled into the back of his shirt.

"Just glad it got you back to me, too," Jim closed his eyes and tried to breathe deep, feeling everything in him crumble to small pieces by just being this close, holding each other. Feelings threatened to burst through the seams and short of getting up and running out of this room right now, he wasn't really sure how he was going to stop himself from letting them all spill out.

I love you, I love you, I love you. He wanted to kick himself for how badly he wanted to say that out loud right now.

"I think I've got some idea, yeah."

"You have no idea, darlin'." He said the words, a slight quiver to his voice as he hugged him tighter. He was all Jim's, the blonde just had no idea. Taking a deep breath, he let it out shakily still pressing his face into Jim's neck. He rarely let himself just call Jim any type of endearment, but he was too threadbare and worn emotionally to stop himself now. Not when he needed to be close like this and just not let go of him.

Carding his fingers through Jim's hair, he let his nails scrape softly against his scalp. Slowly, he shifted his fingers until he let the tips tenderly rubbed his scalp in soothing motions that purposely sought out the pressure points and any spot he knew would ease some of the stress out of Jim. "well, I'm stubborn as all hell, Jim. I was bound to wander upon ya somehow or walk that damn planet till I did. But I might just have never forgiven you if I got stuck carrying Spock around bridal style. That I do not want to experience. Ever."

Huffing lightly, he turned his head to touch his nose into Jim's hairline. "I don't know if you do, Jim." His tone got softer, edged in sadness as he closed his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to just keep going. Keep tellin' Jim just how much he loved everything about him. Even the parts that drove him utterly insane. "Gonna be the death of me, darlin'. But I don't plan on ever goin' out easy." It was only half teasing now. Sometimes he just tried too damn hard to keep Jim safe.

Vaguely, Jim thought that this was probably the closest they'd ever been to each other. Physically, emotionally— both, actually. Like a strange mix of the two. Jim could practically feel his heart beating against Bones's chest at a dizzying speed, his scent seeping in through his very pores. It was terribly dangerous, but also something he couldn't possibly resist.

Bones still somehow managed to think of the perfect thing to distract him, though, and Jim couldn't help laugh at the mental image. "Oh, what I would've given to see that," he teased, his voice so completely amused with the picture he had in his head. Bones's deeply set frown, Spock all rigid and uncomfortable in his arms... yeah, that was sure to make him laugh plenty of times in the future.

His neck relaxed a little underneath Bones's touch, and he returned in kind, thumb pressing to the muscles at Bones's nape, while his fingertips sifted through the short hairs. Eventually, and a little reluctantly, he pulled away, though his hands didn't really move or let go of him just yet. "Like I'd ever let you die, Bones," he smiled a little more easily now, nudging lightly at his shoulder. "I'll always be there to keep you safe, you've got my word."

There it was. That laugh he loved to hear from Jim and how it always seemed to light up his world just hearing the idiot happy. "Yeah well, don't go countin' your chickens before they hatch. I don't plan on carryin' that bean pole anywhere any time soon." Snorting softly, he couldn't stop the corner of his lips lifting just a little to smile just a bit.

Humming a low, unconscious sound, Leonard felt a good deal of the tension bleed out of his neck and shoulders. He like this proximity. The warmth and feeling of just having Jim closer. Somewhere he could have that false hope he could keep him safe.

His heartbeat.

He didn't have to ask the computer if Jim's vitals were fine. The doctor could feel his pulse alive and strong against him. It made him feel like his feet finally found solid ground and God, he needed this.

When Jim pulled back, he let his eyes catch those of blue and he shivered slightly. Things like that, you didn't just go and say 'em. The hand in Jim's hair shifted, the palm pressing against his cheek as his fingertips traced along the frame of his face. It was so damn easy... easy to drown in those blue eyes and get carried away by those words that he knew damn well were heart felt and sincere.

His thumb slid over Jim's cheekbone slowly as his lips parted to take a shaky breath. "I love you..." The moment the words came out on the exhale, his eyes went wide. And just as fast, he turned his head away and cursed under his breath. "Damn it.. Look Jim... just... just forget I said that. Sorry."

Things felt just a little easier now, a little lighter. There was a smile on Bones's face and Jim was relieved to see it, the tension and misery from before almost as if bleeding out of them, evaporating into the air itself. Jim looked genuinely glad for the way things turned out, even it still felt a little like they were too close.

But it was fine. Things were going to be fine, and Jim didn't feel guilt eating away at him anymore, some corroding feeling that this was all his fault.

The hand on his cheek was warm and it was the most difficult thing to stop himself from leaning into that touch or nuzzling his face against Bones's palm. One of his hands did move to rest on Bones's forearm, the other settling on his other shoulder, while inwardly debating just how long he could keep up the contact until it became too weird.

But then, Bones opened his mouth and everything was just wiped clean from his mind. The three simple words swept through him like a perfect echo of his own thoughts, and for a moment Jim actually wondered if it was just his mind playing tricks on him, his wishful thinking making him hear things. But then Bones was tensing and looking away from him, and he was apologizing and telling him to forget about it, and—

How? Why? Why would he ever want to do that?

"No— no," his answer was delayed and abrupt, like kickstarting an old engine that refused to work. He shifted closer and his hands reached out, curling into Bones's arm, shoulder, his neck, urging him to look at him again. "Tell me. Tell me you meant that. Did you mean it?"

Jim couldn't even bother to sound calm. His voice practically shook its way out of him, immeasurable hope and fear making him almost sick to the stomach. It was a good feeling, but it was also terrifying. Bones could've meant anything by that, right? Anything.

In the silence that followed that slip of the tongue, Leonard felt sick. His stomach instantly knotted up and twisted until he felt like it resided in his throat and not where it was supposed to be. Jim’s silence weighed heavy on him and for a damn second he thought throwing up was a sure fire thing. What was he thinking?

No. That’s the problem. He wasn’t thinking. He went and opened his damn mouth and didn’t check the words before they came spillin’ out like so much damn nonsense. The doctor felt horrified in ways he couldn’t even begin to explain… if he lost Jim…

The first sound of Jim saying ‘no’ so abruptly felt like a stab to the gut and he instantly pulled his hands away from him. It felt so mellow dramatic in some ways. They just hovered there a moment unsure what to do until he felt Jim’s hands on him. Even if Jim didn’t force him, he felt like he couldn’t go against that insistent push for him to finally look at Jim again. The marginally wide eyes of fear finally dared to look up into Jim’s face and Leonard had to clench his jaw as he searched for something, anything to say that might fix this in some way Jim wouldn’t push him away entirely.

Tell me you mean that.

Blinking a few times, the fear shifted to something more like shock. How could—did Jim really think he’d dare say anything like that to him and not mean it? He would apologize for saying it, sure, but hell would freeze over before he negated the truth behind those words. And the tone of his voice… damn it but it broke his heart.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes a moment and told himself, for better or worse, he needed to speak plainly and honestly. Cause god help him, he didn’t want to hurt Jim with lies or platitudes. He could never be that selfish. Especially not when he came to Jim. Which was why he reached out slowly once more, his fingertips barely grazing his cheeks before he cupped the blonde’s head in his hands. “You listen well and good, Jim… I would never go and say somethin’ like that to you and not mean it. It’s not just some phrase I throw around cause it’s easy or cause it’s the only thing to say. Those kinda words are sacred to me. Kinda like you are to me.”

Taking a deep breath, he smoothed his thumbs over Jim’s cheeks and furrowed his brow as a darkened look of despair slid over his face. “Swear to God, Jim… I love you. It hurts sometimes how much you mean to me and I can’t do a damn thing about it. When I say I’m sorry, it’s not cause I am apologizin’ for lovin’ you… I’m apologizin’ for probably destroyin’ our friendship cause you probably don’t want to go that far or take it to that level. I’m hopin’ I didn’t go and say somethin’ that just ripped us apart cause god knows I can’t take it if you leave me behind cause I let that come out when I shouldn’t.” His gaze looked almost pleading as he let his hands slide down to rest against Jim’s neck. “Please… just tell me I didn’t fuck this up.”

In some strange way, Jim was reminded of the gravity field and high-G trainings back at the academy, when he felt his head spinning too fast to think, when he lost all sense of what was up and down. His mind was pulling in all directions, heart jumping from worry to happiness, from panic and fear to immeasurable hope. Hope that he'd been pushing down for so long now that he wasn't even sure how it flared up in his chest this fast.

He drew in a sharp breath when Bones reached out and touched him again, unaware he'd stopped breathing altogether for those few seconds of painful but exciting waiting. He had to look borderline desperate at this point, but he couldn't care less. Not when he hung on every word Bones said as if they were gospel, or held the whole truth about the known universe.

They didn't, but they were all the truth Jim cared about, and his universe may as well have narrowed down to this room, this place, this man and nothing else. And he was telling him that yes, he did love him, he did care that much, and Jim felt like the whole dam keeping his own feelings inside just cracked and broke into pieces so everything just came rushing out like an unstoppable stream.

One hand cupped Bones's neck, the other still on his shoulder. He felt a ridiculous urge to laugh right now, but he managed to settle with a smile, a little shaky but soon stretching into a grin.

Rather than say anything, he chose to answer by actions rather than words, and before Bones could bring himself down even more, he shifted closer and leaned in until there was no space between them and he was crushing their mouths together in a kiss.

His mind already started working through all the things he could say to make it better. How nothing will change. He didn't want anything from Jim. Not... not really. Just being friends with him was enough. He didn't have to have anything else. He'd survived years with just that. It was fine... right?

Except he didn't know how to make that tight pain in his chest go away. What if this never would be okay again? Leonard thought for the first time in his life he was on the verge of an honest to god panic attack of all things. Brow furrowing, he searched Jim's face still trying to figure out what to say when a smile started to form on his face. Blinking a few times, he felt a little numb around the edges as it morphed slowly into a grin that felt far too warm and looked too beautiful to have him panic just yet. Instead he felt... stunned. Like the ground under him became too soft and threw him off balance.

Then it went and spun right outta axis when Jim leaned closer to kiss him like that. Every thought in his head came to an utter and abrupt stop when Jim's lips found his and for one dumb second, Leonard was too stunned to respond. No amount of predictin' prepared him for this. Nothing could even begin to make him expect for Jim to...

The hows and whys didn't matter, damn it. It was just that it was. And he'd be damned if he let this moment happen without him responding. The hands resting against Jim's neck moved, one curling into the hair at the back of his head while the other cupped the side of his face. Pressing into the kiss finally, he made sure to kiss him for all he was worth. If this were the first and last kiss he ever got from Jim, he would damn well make it count.

But he did finally pull away, licking his lips to chase the taste of Jim against them before he tried to pull his mind back together from the melted mess Jim just put him in. "Jim... I'm serious now... This... tell me this isn't you just tryin' to make me feel better." Because it was possible. It was possible even if he prayed with all his might against it. He didn't want Jim to do things just to make him happy.

This whole thing seemed so surreal that for a moment Jim had to wonder if he was just dreaming, if all of this wasn't just in his head. It was ridiculous to think of, like he was some teenager falling in love for the first time, but his mind could very well be playing tricks on him.

Except if he was imagining this, he was sure Bones's lips wouldn't feel this warm and soft, his heart wouldn't pound so hard it nearly threatened to burst out of his chest. He tried to take a breath only for it to dissolve into a soft little gasp into the kiss, his fingers curling tight and practically clawing at the fabric of Bones's shirt.

When Bones pulled away he let out a sound of surprise and mild complaint, but he didn't stop him. He licked and sucked at his lips, slowly opening his eyes to find Bones looking deliciously flustered and breathless. Jim couldn't possibly wipe the smile spread across his face.

The remark was, of course, a Bones classic, and very much predictable. Jim couldn't help a laugh, unable to restrain any of his reactions at this point. "Oh my God, Bones, just— just do me a favor and shut up," said in a warm and loving tone, before he leaned in and kissed Bones again and again (because he could do that now), foreheads resting together even as he broke that contact again. "I love you. God, I love you so much. It was eating me up inside not to say it and I can't believe you beat me to it."

Not that Jim was planning on ever saying it, mind. But he was just teasing Bones a little with that last remark.

Flustered was a good word for it. Bordering on debauched with his skin flushes, hair askew and lips slightly darker than normal. His pupils dilated from that rush of pleasure of just having that ability to kiss Jim and how it made his world tilt on edge and devour him up in the moment. He felt like, even as he asked his question, that he was stuck on one helluva dream.

A dream that definitely felt more real when Jim told him to shut up. That, that was classic Jim Kirk. He might have even scowled at the blonde had he not caught his lips in a kiss once more. This time he gave a soft sound of happiness as Jim managed to steal a few before he finally felt the press of his forehead and the dizzying feeling of just breathing his air and being close. For the love of all that was holy, kissing Jim felt like being unmade and remade all at the same time.

Especially with those words.

Leonard blinked a few times at Jim, before a smile blossomed over his face. A beautiful uninhibited real smile that hardly ever flickered across the doctor's face. "Was feelin' that, too, darlin'. Guess no matter how much I intended to keep it to myself, I just never did stand a chance against you." Given enough pushing, the right look or words, and Leonard was bound to slip up because of Jim and his weakness for the blonde.

Reaching up, he slipped his fingers through Jim's hair and let out a soft sigh. "Kinda glad I did up and break." Kinda didn't begin to explain it. He felt like it was the best slip up of his life and god help him, he felt like his heart was fluttering like a caged bird at the thought of Jim being in love with him. It felt so amazing and unreal and everything he could have ever asked for.

Cupping the back of his head, the doctor leaned in and kissed him again. This time he put his best foot forward, licking at Jim's lips until he could delve into his mouth and take his time to memorize and taste him on his tongue. And needless to say, he was already addicted to kissing him.

Bones was a chronic worrier, so Jim really wasn't all that surprised that that was the first thing he'd think to ask. But no, kissing Bones out of the blue wouldn't have been the first thing to come to mind if he didn't happen to return his feelings, especially considering what he knew was at stake here.

Even if he didn't feel the same... he would never just use Bones only to toss him to the curb the next morning. He'd never turn his back on him either. They'd always be friends, regardless of whatever other feelings there were. Luckily they both felt the same, so there was no need for misery and unrequited pining. At least not anymore.

Jim almost wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this all was. How silly of two grown men to care about each other this much, going around carrying torches and thinking the other didn't have it just as bad.

"Really glad you did, too," he murmured against Bones's lips, his own parting easily when Bones licked at them while kissing him. Mouth parting and head canting just so, he let the contact deepen, his hands sliding up Bones's neck until his fingers were sifting through his hair, sighing happily into the kiss.

The breaking point... (for winscenario)

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