space is disease and danger

Jim’s hips are flush to Leonards, pressing down with a purpose, straddling his lap and knees digging into the mattress.  The pull of his pants are a touch uncomfortable around his knees and in the night, he will be free of them.  But for now, he’s lost in the gaze Leonard gives him, almost in awe, drinking him in.  There’s something predatory flashing behind his gaze, but Jim passes it off easily as the desire coursing through both of them.  It isn’t often this happens.

It isn’t often that Bones wants him so bad.  The moments that he is this way, it stirs something in Jim, the dark corners where he did his best to hide the unyielding desire to feel wanted and loved.  Like dust in the wind, this kicked it up and sent those pieces of him flying into the open.

Jim was helpless

His mouth fell open as Bones’ hand came to grip, tugging with enough resolve to make him gasp against his mouth.  “That’s it,” He croons softly, turning to kiss down Leonard’s neck between soft gasps of enjoyment.  Fingers tugged Bones’ tunic off at this point, tossing it to join the Golden one on the floor.  

In response, Jim took his time to grind against Bones, a fluid roll of his hips that is well practiced and well implemented, followed by another one as it rocked him in Leonard’s hand, leaving him with a soft whimper.

If I can briefly have your attention--

This blog is no longer a sideblog to my personal. I’ve moved it over to its own account, so I can start following you fine folks back and start interacting more fully now I’ve got everything in order.

“I know, Bones,” and Jim doesn’t try to apologize for it.  He deserves it, really.  What does Leonard want him to do? Tell him lies that he would never do it again, that when it comes down to Bones life or his, he’s going to give Bones the chance to get away.  Because if he stood by and let something happen, Jim would not live to see the next day either.  He’s too reckless for it, and the loss of the one person nearest and dearest to him would be far too much.  

He goes quiet as Bones does, and Jim chews idly on his lower lip.  What could he say at this point?  Please don’t hate me sounds far too dramatic, though it crosses his mind a few times.  “I can’t….I can’t tell you what you want to hear, Bones.  But I can tell you that….I will try my hardest.”  To come back alive.  To be here for you.  To finally recognize that I should stop the self destructive streaks..  “I…”  He fidgets, knowing he should stay quiet.

“So much of my world revolves around you and everyone else here.  I should be more aware that perhaps, some of those sentiments may be mutual.  Forgive me?”

Leonard’s eyes widen a fraction, but he can’t allow himself to be disarmed so easily. His Jim is charmed, and knows how to use his charisma to whatever advantage will get him out of a tight spot, including this very scenario. Today is not the first time it’s happened, and he’s all but promised that it won’t be the last.

He doesn’t say that he is forgiven; there’s no sense of forgiving something that will only happen again, likely soon. Bones does, however, rise slowly and lean far enough over the bed that he can enter Jim’s personal space, touching their foreheads together in a gesture that is far more intimate and personal than he would usually allow outside the privacy of their quarters. But no one is looking, and he needs this. Jim needs it, too.

Jim hunches his shoulders with the snap, closing his eyes as if waiting for a blow.  Knee Jerk reaction that’s followed him through his childhood years, awaiting a heavy hand to follow the strike of words.  He relaxes half a beat later because he isn’t afraid of Bones – not like that, nor does he want Leonard to get that message.  Instead, he opens his eyes and gazes at him, taking in the red of his cheeks, and the way his posture has changed.  

You think you’ve got to sacrifice yourself to do it.  Like father like son.  It’s all Jim knows, really.  A captain will sacrifice himself for the good of the crew.  Protect the crew, even if it means laying down your own life for them. and it seems that Jim has been on a crash course from day one, trying his best to fill the legacy his father left behind. It’s what he knows, but he doesn’t say it.  He can’t, not with the heartbreak in Bones’ eyes as he finally makes contact with him.

The pause in Leonard’s words are resounding.  If one day you dont come back.  Then what?  Jim would tell him that they would continue on.  Spock would take over, and the universe would not stop spinning just because Jim’s heart stopped beating, but there’s something in the way Bones looks at him.  “Bones,” he murmurs, his voice softly as he looks back at him.  He wants to draw him near, wants to tell him he’s sorry for all the agony he’s caused, for the lack of concern for the way others view him.  Instead, all he can do is look at him filled to the brim with guilt, and a deep breath follows, “I never plan to go out and not come back.  I don’t go on an away team with the thoughts of This is how I am going to end.  I go with the intentions of learning, exploring, and protecting.  If I know that putting myself at risk ensures that you or someone else can get to safety, then I’m going to do it, hand’s down, everytime.  I am not going to stand by idly and watch the people I lo-…care about be put at risk, and die because…heaven forbid something happen to you” he pauses “…or anyone else.”  Jim’s gaze snaps back at the ceiling and his hand paws at his cheek in an effort to calm himself some.  “I’m sorry Bones.  I’m sorry, I’m reckless.  I’m sorry that I’m so hard to deal with.  I’m sorry.  I just….”  blue eyes flick back at him, filled with just as much sadness.

Leonard is silent for quite some time, as if absorbing all he’s just heard, and trying to make sense of it in his head. However he feels, what Jim’s just said does nothing to leech the color from his face, or drain any of the tenseness from the hard line of his shoulders. When he finally does speak, it’s little more than a mutter.

“You’re an ass.” Because it’s his job, and because he doesn’t like the thought of leaving Jim’s wound vulnerable to the open air for much longer, he grabs the bandages and returns to work, wanting to finish up instead of drawing this out any longer than he needs to. Something about his expression has changed, leaving him a bit softer around the eyes, though his mouth is still set in that stubborn line.

Jim flinches with the toss of the bandages, and he shifts his eyes from Bones back to the ceiling.  It stings less when you look away, at least that’s his thinking.  So that’s where he stays, laying on his back, trying his best to not shiver with the chill from blood loss and the med bay itself, and doing everything he can to just take the scolding.

What could he say in his defense?  Everything he thinks of will lend to an argument, and the last person he wants to bicker with is the one holding a needle in his hand.  The muscle in his jaw flexes as he keeps his eyes to the north, counting the speckles in the ceiling tiles.

Jim’s gaze finally shifted back to Leonard’s, brow furrowed for a moment, “You think I don’t take it serious?  The fact that every single one of you depend on me is the exact reason why I do some of the things I do.  It’s why I tried to get out of bed and pretend life is normal becau-”  He shifts to look at the curtain, the nurse scurrying off again as she realizes there’s some words between them being said, “Because the quicker I can get back to normal, the more I can do for everyone.  And I know…I know you’re going to say I’m no good if I don’t take care of myself and you’re right, Bones.  You’re right.  But don’t ever take my actions as not caring or not taking it seriously,” his voice cracks a touch, unsteady as he looks back to the ceiling.  “I would do whatever it takes to keep you…Nurse Chapel in there.  Spock.  Sulu…all of them, safe.”  He swallows thickly, and keeps gazing up, avoiding looking at Bones.

“You’re not invincible, Jim!” He hadn’t meant to lose his temper or raise his voice, but it’s all gone and gotten away from him, and there’s no taking it back now. A sudden hush falls over the room, as its other occupants either attempt to listen, or try and decide whether they ought to clear out to give the doctor some privacy or continue performing their assorted tasks as though nothing is happening behind that curtain.

Leonard’s face has taken on a tint of color that betrays some integral part of him, and the fact that he had been at the top of that list hadn’t escaped his notice. And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

“You take your command seriously. Your duty. But you think you’ve got to sacrifice yourself to do it.” He takes a breath, trying to calm himself, if only so he can keep his voice down and avoid letting the whole medbay in on this conversation.

“Jim, one of these days your luck’s gonna run out, and there won’t be a damn thing I can do to bring you back.” He finally does look at Jim, and there’s something desperately sad in his eyes. “A lot of your crew are only still here because of you. I’m still here because of you. If one day, you don’t come back-”

Hold still, Jim. His name falls from Leonard’s lips, and while strained, at least it wasn’t the cold, distance Captain that he’d anticipated.  

At least he doesn’t hate me.

Jim’s eyes stay at the ceiling as he listens to him breathe, the silence building and heavy between.  He can feel the pressure of Bones moving, tugging on threads somewhere along his chest, pulling the pieces back together.  That seems to be what Bones does best, in more than one way.  He picks of the pieces scattered behind by Jim, and puts them back into place.  It wasn’t a job he deserved, of course.  He deserved so much better than simply cleaning up the aftermath of Jim’s wreckage, but to say Jim wasn’t thankful would be the biggest lie anyone has ever said.

He wants to apologize again, though.  But can’t, the words stuck somewhere in his throat because he knows Bones likely doesn’t want to hear it.  Not now.  Maybe later, when the med bay quiets for the evening.  “I didn’t do it on purpose, Bones.  I didn’t mean– I’d gone to get something to eat.  I knew…I knew you were busy, is all.”   I didn’t want to be a burden, no more than I can already be.  

He goes quiet, blue eyes finally shifting to look at Bones after a moment, wide and soft, blinking slowly.  “Thank you for patching me up.”

“You didn’t do it on purpose.” Leonard huffs a soft little laugh, but there’s no humor in it at all. The nurse returns with fresh bandages, and he surprises her by plucking them from her grasp and throwing them into the tray with a clatter, frightening her off quickly. They’re alone again, the curtain swaying in the wake of her flight, and Bones still isn’t looking at him.

“Jim, there are over a thousand people on this ship, and you’re responsible for all of them.” It’s not what he wants to say, not really, but it reflects the gravity of the situation in a way Jim might be able to comprehend. It also eases his own burden; he’s not the only one counting on Jim, depending on him. Waiting with bated breath for his return, unsure as to whether or not this might actually be the time he doesn’t make it back.

“Sometimes,” he pulls the final stitch tight, and is careful about tying it off; his voice is unsteady, but his hands aren’t. “I don’t think you take it seriously.”

Bones is angry, and Jim can feel the tension in the air, even before he opens his eyes.  His voice is tense and terse above him and his hands are far from gentle on his sore frame – so much for thinking he can go back to his quarters tonight.  He’d done is best to get back there, and he’s internally trying to piece together the strands of memory that lead him here.  He’d been sitting on the floor.  

He groggily groans as he finally opens his eyes, catching sight of Leonard first.  It’s reassuring, at least, that he doesn’t hate him to the point where he’s going to put one of the other physicians in charge of his care.  Please don’t move.  The first thing he does is try and sit up a bit, if only to get a better glance, only to sit still as possible when he realizes just how mad Leonard is.  

Instead of engaging, he takes a moment to glance around, between the IV settled in his arm, the tubing trailing up to a brand new bag of fluids.  He closes his eyes after a moment, the silence is nearly deafening between him, but he doesn’t dare break it.  If anything, he looks as if he is a scolded puppy, blue eyes wide when they look at Bones, maybe even a little wary, before he glances at the nurse.  He’s freezing cold, and he doesn’t bother to tell anyone at this point – Bones might stab him where he could feel it.

The nurse steps out for a moment to retrieve fresh bandaging, and Jim stares awkwardly at the ceiling, “Sorry, Bones..”

Leonard lets another moment stretch on without speaking, but try as he might, it’s impossible to ignore Jim when he gets like this. Nothing about his expression changes, but when he finally does offer a few words, they come out sounding strained.

“Hold still, Jim.” This time staples aren’t enough. This time he’s getting sutures internally and externally, and it’s overkill, but they’ll dissolve as soon as the real healing has begun and if his fingers are as steady and as clever as he thinks they are, Jim shouldn’t be able to tear himself open again when he inevitably abandons every one of his self preservation instincts and tempts fate a second time.

“Wait did you just agree that you wish you could go on without me?” Jim’s half lidded gaze looks up at Bones from the edge of the toilet, his cheek resting on the cool porcelain with a goofy little smirk.  “Can’t go on without me huh? I knew you’d miss me,”  Another groan follows and he turns to try and get closer to the cold bowl, eyes closed as he breathes slowly.

“Never,” he shifts when he feels the cold rag against his forehead, “ever let me drink like this again.”  Of course, in two week time, he will be in the same position, saying the same things.  He deserves this.  He deserves feeling sick, with the spins, and hurting where he was beaten earlier.  He’d earned it.  Perhaps this was a form of self flagellation, for whatever trespasses he’s committed in his life – not enough, etc.  of course, that is being a touch overly dramatic.

So he shoves it out of his mind with the gentle pats to his shoulder.  “Thanks Bones.  I’ll be alright.  M’sorry I ruined your night and now you’re sitting on our bathroom floor with me while I get sick.  You should go get in the bed.”

“You’re right, I should.” It’s been over twenty four hours since Leonard has gotten a wink of sleep, and the only reason he hasn’t collapsed by this point is because he’s built up a resistance to fatigue over the years. His eyes may be bleary and his movements slow, but his hands are still steady and his mind is as sharp as ever.

“Would, too, if I didn’t know your moaning would keep me up until dawn.” Grouchy words, but they come out sounding far more relaxed than they ought to. More forgiving than the average person might feel Jim deserves.