#starbutch

this ask should have come with a WARNING holy shit,,

also idk if u wanted another headcanon dump but ur getting one sorry

in their second year, jim loses his student accomodation. with few other desirable options (he has friends in the academy other than bones, sure, but they’re mostly people he’s sleeping with/has slept with in the past) he moves in with bones, who, as a nontraditional student and a highly valued asset to starfleet due to his medical expertise, has permanent and significantly larger quarters- large enough to hold two people, if you don’t mind being a bit cramped.

(bones does mind, but he minds the idea of leaving jim on his own without a friendly face far more)

so jim and bones live together. it’s messy and uncoordinated; bones has to restructure his shower schedule because jim is liable to spend half an hour in there doing god only knows what, and more than once he’s snatched a bowl of his cereal from jim’s sleep-stiff hands before the kid eats it and suffers an allergic reaction to the wheat by-products it contains. but it’s worth it, to see jim safe and, for the most part, happy when bones returns- it’s not home, but it’s the closest thing to a home he has now- to their place after a long day in the labs.

bones even starts to look forward to seeing jim when he gets back, but that’s a secret he keeps to himself.

when bones’ socks start going missing, he dismisses it as carelessness. but when he can’t find his sweatshirt- the one he always wears on his walk to classes during the winter- he realises exactly what’s going on

“jim!” he yells. the kid stumbles out of the kitchenette, breakfast in hand, in nothing but boxers and- well. his mind pretty much blanks at that point because jim kirk is wearing his sweatshirt, and what a goddamn sight to behold that is. he’s got the sleeves rolled up, but the thing’s an extra large- too big for bones (which is part of why he likes it)- who’s broader in shoulder and waist, so it’s almost comically huge on jim. though shorter than it is on bones- it only brushes the tops of his thighs, which really isn’t helping bones suppress where his imagination is going right now.

here’s the thing: bones has a crush on jim kirk. but that’s perfectly normal, because everyone has a crush on jim kirk. this is the kid who makes the unflattering starfleet-issue uniforms look good, who can stop anyone or anything with the right look from his too-blue eyes, or a tilt of his ridiculously full lips, and bones should really, really stop thinking, right now, before he embarrasses himself.

“yeah? ” jim mumbles blearily around a mouthful of toast, reminding bones to breathe again. “don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgusting,” bones growls. “and you’re wearing my sweatshirt. take it off. please,” he adds, because his mom raised him to be polite, even when he desperately wants to strangle his best friend and roommate for stealing his favourite clothes and making him late to class. jim smirks, starts pulling the sweatshirt off- “not out here!” bones snaps, shoving him into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

the memory of jim’s laughter stays with him for the entire ten-minute jog to class. bones tells himself it’s the coffee he picked up on his way out that’s creating the warm feeling spreading inside his chest, a feeling that doesn’t fade even when he’s punished for his tardiness with lab-cleaning duties.

(he may or may not be lying.)

jim doesn’t steal bones’ clothes again after that, however, making it easy for bones to forget about the whole incident- until jim’s birthday.

bones knows it isn’t a good day for jim; he’s only managed to get bits and pieces out of jim about the whole thing, mostly while the kid’s almost too drunk to string a coherent sentence together. he plans to get out of the clinic nice and early and go with jim to his bar of choice for the evening, to make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble, but when a romulan with a badly crushed hand is brought in by one of their friends, his attention is absorbed almost entirely by his work.

it’s such a busy day that he can’t really be blamed for forgetting his promise to himself to stick with jim, until a pretty betazoid girl he’s seen once or twice in the hallways dashes in, looking worried. “please hurry,” she begs him, “your friend is-” she bites her lips, wrings her hands. “he needs help.”

bones sprints back to their dorm with his heart in his mouth. the betazoid refused to elaborate; she couldn’t explain the situation any better than she already had, anyhow. when he finally makes it back, however, he only finds jim passed out drunk on his bed- a little beat-up, and smelling like a brewery in the summer, but hardly a cause for any more than the usual level of concern.

bones sets his medkit down on his own bed and allows himself a moment to catch his breath before dealing with jim. the kid barely stirs for five minutes, and bones is getting worried he’s drunk himself into a coma before a particularly vigorous round of slightly panicked shoulder-shaking rouses him.

“jim?” he says, trying to keep his voice low and calm. “jim, it’s me. it’s-” he hesitates- “bones. c'mon, jim,” he takes his friend’s arm and slings it over his shoulder; pulls jim up with him, supporting both jim’s weight and his own, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

he has jim sit in the bathroom as he runs a regenerator over his scrapes and bruises, and it’s not until he’s finished taking care of jim’s injuries that he notices jim isn’t wearing his own clothes, but bones’, including the same sweatshirt bones told him to change out of only a few weeks before. it’s stained with drying blood around the collar and the tips of the sleeves, and jim looks so small and lost inside it that bones can feel a lump forming in his throat just at the sight of him.

he swallows it down with difficulty as he helps jim stumble back to his bed, and struggles some more when jim’s hand reaches out of the folds of his sweater to clutch at his wrist. “m'sorry, bones,” jim mumbles, sounding so thoroughly miserable that bones does the only thing he can think of; wraps his arms around jim in an awkward embrace and runs a hand gently through his hair. jim stiffens, then returns the gesture, shoulders shaking, hands forming angry fists in bones’ shirt. “it’s alright,” bones murmurs, rubbing his back, “shh. it’s going to be okay.”

bones hardly expects jim to stop stealing his clothes when they start dating, but he doesn’t anticipate jim basically stealing his entire wardrobe. it gets to the point that bones is pretty sure jim wears his clothes more often than he wears his own, which wouldn’t be such a problem of bones didn’t have to fight him for the right to wear said clothes on a regular basis.

“but they’re so soft, bones,” jim complains, when bones tries unsuccessfully to wrangle him out of his old college hoodie. jim glares balefully up at him through puffy red eyelids, which is equal parts gross and oddly endearing. “it’s called using fabric softener,” bones replies, slapping jim’s hand as he makes to wipe his streaming nose on the sleeves. “if you’re going to steal my clothes, you owe it to yourself to at least show them some respect, you pest.”

“bones,” jim whines, and somehow the puppy eyes look still works for him even when he’s clogged up with a nasty strain of xenoflu. “don’t be such an infant. i am not cuddling with you and your resident virus just because you get clingy when you’re sick.”

ten minutes later, he’s got a lapful of a sleeping jim kirk on one side and his PADD containing his class notes on the other. jim’s drooling on his hoodie. bones finds it in himself not to care.

B- birthday? 

already answered here

J- jealous of?

i try not to be jealous, but uhh people who make really cool edits??? god i wish that were me,,

R- reason to smile? 

i’m still alive, and so are all the people i love

Y- your last hug? 

i hugged my friend tara goodbye yesterday before she went back to oxford

well apparently the school's orchestra isn't allowed back at Disney b/c some people got caught dropping acid etc.

some people are terrible and they deserve it