agent mccoy.

Leo!

Womp. A hundred and eight pounds of god, straight to the gut of his husband. And that’s only because he’s still not very good at jumping into arms with his prosthetic leg.

Leo lets out a sharp exhale of breath as Sarkis’s body collides with his stomach, driving out all the air from his lungs and leaving him in a (somewhat) state of pain. Ow. He drops his bag on the ground of their apartment’s foyer and lifts an eyebrow, arms moving to wrap around Sarkis’s shoulders.

Only half an hour? Who’s been indulging you?

Dear God I didn’t even know I needed this until now.

Jim as a young, bright CMO. He’s really good at his work, with steady hands and he’s incredibly resourceful, but he’s also incredibly reckless when it comes to his own safety. He’d run head first into danger in order to save a young ensign from bleeding to death.

Captain McCoy would be so stressed about this that he’s taken a rank in healing. And when Jim inevitably goes down (and he does, more than once), Bones can sit at his side, listening to Jim’s instructions and patching him up whilst his doctor slips in and out of consciousness. 

Bones would frequently point out that, according to Starfleet Regulations, rather than beaming into danger, they could also just leave. And he has done that, refusing to send his crew down to fetch a stupid artifact for the sole purpose of having it in Starfleet’s possession. He’s gotten very skilled at ignoring Jim’s: “C’mon Cap, what’s the worst that could happen? I’ll go down with them. It’ll be fun!” 

Despite being in the heat of danger way more often than a doctor should, Jim gets out of most missions without ever killing another life. The day that he does kill, it’s to save his Captain’s life, who’s face-to-face with a gigantic alien who’s killed at least three ensigns already, and the remaining away-party crew is occupied with other aliens. The creature doesn’t respond to a stun, and Jim has no choice. It weighs heavily on his shoulders that he’s killed someone, and for the longest time he’s lost that spark in his eyes Bones just adores about him. It doesn’t return until Bones tells him Jim’s phaser misfired, and it was actually Bones who killed the thing. This may or may not be a lie.

Bones visits Jim in medbay at least once a week with severe headaches. Jim diagnoses him with severe stress all the time and tells him to take it slow. Cue to them bickering about whose fault it is that Bones is just a permanently stressed Captain.

Bones also frequently visits Jim in medbay to keep his own medical skill up to date, and mostly to listen to Jim’s stories. He’d just sit in Jim’s office, watching Jim speak so vividly and excitedly about this exotic alien he saved from getting his arm amputated. Or how he helped a woman give birth amidst this big sandstorm on this Class M planet. And just hearing Jim talk so excitedly about saving lives just makes him fall so madly in love with him every time, despite the unnecessarily gory details. 

Eventually, he just visits medbay with fake illnesses so that he can have Jim look him over. Careful fingers touching his arms, his forehead, or wherever his current illness takes place. Though after Bones’ vitals are fine three times in a row, Jim catches on. He makes up some terrible fake diagnosis to scare the hell out of Bones, though subtly suggesting making out to be the only cure. Bones happily accepts, and visits medbay with the same symptoms a lot more often.

       He is just checking the left window when he hears a crash coming from inside the house. He runs back to the porch, figures that if there’s someone inside, the best place to be is the “appropriate” place to be on the porch, asking for permission and offering his services.

         Uh, my name’s Jim, Jim Kirk! I was just driving by when I saw the house. You know you’ve got a couple busted steps out here, man?

     He’s doing his best to sound friendly, not dangerous. The man inside sounds tired, bone-tired, and Jim finds that he wants to make sure the man inside isn’t in the same state as the house. 

  I’m not a salesman, man. I’m a.. well, a kinda handyman. I do a bunch of shit, woodwork, metalwork, plumbing. I was looking around and your water purifier is shot too. Mind if I give it a once over, see if it can be fixed instead of you having to replace it?

    I’m aware of the goddamn steps, thank you. They’re there to deter unwanted guests from comin’ up to visit. Maybe you missed the sign.

    Voice thick with sarcasm, Leonard leans against the door again, gently tipping his head forward to let his forehead hit the wood. Goddamnit. This little bit of human interaction, and he’s already exhausted.

    No, it’s fine. Are you implyin’ I can’t take care of my own goddamn house?

He thunks a hand on the door to ward off the stranger and straightens up. Part of Leo is a little selfish-- he wants to spend the rest of his days alone so he doesn’t get attached, doesn’t break somebody else’s heart when he inevitably bites the dust sooner or later.

He also knows that if he opens the door he’s going to right frighten somebody on the other side.

45. My muse commits murder to save yours.

Leo’d always known that Jim would see him kill one day. Sure, Sarkis knew, and Jim, to a lesser extent, but Leo never felt the need to enlighten either of them on what he could do. What he was capable of, what’d been trained into him through the instinct to survive in the harsh world he was a part of.

Maybe he should have, he thinks idly, looking down at the bodies by his feet. There’s blood on his hands, streaking up his forearms, splattered on his suit pants and on his shoes. It’d been like a dream, his interference, out walking home from work at 2 in the morning when he’d seen Jim walking to meet him and the gang of thugs creeping up behind him and–

His fingers curl into fists. Briefly he sees red, and then he calms down, exhaling.

Blood everywhere. How is he going to explain this? Leo turns on his heel, cool efficacy, and walks towards Jim, palms open in a gesture of peace, of humility and submission.

Laughable, really. Because the carnage he’d just created? Leo’d created with nothing but his hands. 

Jim?

Leo’s voice is calm, that of the voice used to calm a wild animal, and he inhales and exhales at an even tempo, not even winded. Jim should know that he’s got Leo wrapped around his little finger, that he’d do anything to save him, a killing machine brought to heel.

        He tries to get an apology out, but it’s cut off by his own gasp for air, shocked and stunned into silence. He’d heard Leonard promise himself to Jim before, but he’d never seen it in action, not like this. He reaches out for Leonard, grasping his arm and his hand comes away bloody.

    D.. Did they hurt you? Are you okay? L-Len, are you okay?

       He’s more terrified for the man he loves than any damage done to him. He’s spent his life on borrowed time, even more so now that he’s here, so he needs to make sure that Leonard is safe, that he is unmarred. He’s clinging to him now, checking his chest, his stomach, his neck, looking for wounds covered in other men’s blood.

Assured by Jim’s panic that he is, in fact, okay, Leo’s calm morphs into something more sinister, and he reaches forward, patting down any part of Jim that he can reach-- rather difficult when the other man is clinging to him like a limpet.

    They didn’t land a finger on me. I made sure of it, I--

Wide-eyed with panic, Leo pulls Jim flush against him, tilting his head up and giving him a bruising kiss, fingers tangling in the blond’s hair and trapping him. The adrenaline catches up with him, making his blood sing and his heart pump out a staccato rhythm, and Leo breaks off after a few seconds, licking his lips, still unable to believe that Jim is okay, Jim is safe, Jim is--