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McCoy learned about the explosion in the lab minutes after it happened, when the doors of the Academy Med Center burst open to admit the first victims, covered in third degree burns. But it was another hour before he learned that Jim Kirk had been at the lab when the explosion had happened, that he’d been the one to pull the injured cadets out.

“Why isn’t he in here right now?” McCoy yelled at Chapel, when she told him.

She shrugged. “He’s Jim Kirk?”

McCoy growled in frustration and ripped off his gloves. “These two are stable. I’ll be back in half an hour. Comm me if you need me sooner.” He pushed out the exam room doors, rushed through the lobby, and sprinted across the quad to Jim’s room.

He punched in the entry code, waited impatiently for the door to slide open, and stepped quietly into the room. In the dim light he could just make out Jim’s shape on the edge of the mattress, and he made his way over, dropping to his knees beside the bed. Jim was curled in on himself, asleep, the blankets tucked under his chin. He’d been crying, McCoy noticed, the streaks of tears still visible across his cheeks, and…and he was sucking his thumb.

“Oh Jim.” He ran a hand over Jim’s side, surreptitiously checking for injury. Then he touched Jim’s face, letting his fingertips trail across Jim’s cheek and brush over his sweat-damp hair. “Jim,” he whispered.

Jim opened his eyes, and even in the darkness McCoy could see the fear and sadness and guilt that Jim never let show. Then Jim’s eyes widened in realization, and he pulled his thumb out of his mouth.

“No, Jim,” McCoy said, blocking his hand from moving, pressing his thumb back into his mouth. “It’s okay.” He leaned his forehead against Jim’s and stroked a gentle hand in his hair. “It’s okay, Jim. You did the right thing today. You did a good thing.”

Jim closed his eyes and a tear slid down his cheek.

“Shhh,” McCoy said, leaning close to kiss his temple, not entirely sure why the action, or the words, came so easily to him. “You’re okay. You’re so strong.”

Jim took a deep, shuddering breath, but his tears stopped and his face relaxed.

“I’m going to stay here until you fall asleep, okay?”

Jim nodded, mushed sleepily into his pillow.

McCoy kissed him again on the cheek. “I’ll find you tomorrow,” he whispered.

*

He found him, as promised, not that he had to try too hard – Jim was flirting with Chapel in the waiting room as McCoy left his shift the following evening.

“Jim, stop harassing my nurses,” he said gruffly, looking him over. “Glad to see you finally came to your senses and decided to come in to get checked out after the heroics you pulled yesterday,” he added.

Jim laughed. “I’m not here to get checked out, Bones, I’m here to drag your ass out! Karaoke tonight, Gaila’s singing. She said she’ll cry if you don’t show up.”

“Bullshit. And I’m not going anywhere with you until you get checked out.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He put his hands up for McCoy to scan him, but instead McCoy called back over his shoulder for Dr. M’Benga.

“What? Come on, Bones, why can’t you do it?”

“’Cause I’m off shift. Now quit whining and take your shirt off.”

Jim winked at him. “Now we’re talking.”

*

In the end, Jim managed to cajole both McCoy and Chapel into going to karaoke, and he kept the Jim Kirk charm turned on as they headed across campus, so that by the time they reached the bar they’d picked up a few more cadets along the way. Jim ordered beers and they settled into a back booth.

An hour of raucous drinking and cringe-worthy singing had passed before Jim and McCoy found themselves alone at the table. Jim bit his lip and looked nervously at McCoy. “Hey Bones.” He hesitated, took a breath. “About last night…”

McCoy gave him a warning look and shook his head as he took another swig of his beer. Jim closed his mouth, and before he could open it again, the other cadets were swarming around them and the moment had passed.

*

Jim was antsy during lunch the next day. McCoy watched him take seven bites to finish one french fry, and finally snapped.

“What’s wrong, Jim?”

“What? Oh. Nothing,” Jim said, poking his hamburger bun.

McCoy leaned his elbows on the table. “Jim.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing, Bones. I just got a comm earlier saying that I need to report to the administration tomorrow morning to answer some questions about the explosion in the lab.”

McCoy looked at him for a long moment. “You nervous?”

Jim laughed, but didn’t meet his eyes. “No. I just have to tell them what happened, no big deal. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

McCoy furrowed his brows. Jim was right, but McCoy could see that he was nervous nonetheless. “They’ll believe you, Jim. They can’t criticize you for anything you did.”

“I know, Bones, jeez, you don’t have to fucking coddle me,” Jim said, standing up abruptly and grabbing his tray. “Look, I’ll see you around.”

“I’m coming over tonight to study,” McCoy called after him. He saw Jim shrug his indifference as he walked away. That was good enough for him.

*

“What’s in the bag, Bones?” Jim asked as McCoy entered his dorm room that evening.

McCoy pulled a large stuffed teddy bear from the bag and tossed it onto Jim’s bed. “Got you something.”

Jim looked at it and raised an eyebrow. “Did you smuggle drugs in that or something?” he asked skeptically.

“No, Jim,” McCoy said, rolling his eyes. “I carry my drugs around legally, thank you very much. Nah, some patient gave that to me as a thank you gift. I didn’t want it cluttering up my room, so there ya go.”

“Cluttering up my room instead. Gee, thanks.”

“You’re very ungrateful, you know that? I’ll take it back if you don’t want it.”

“Whatever,” Jim said, picking up his PADD from the desk. “Maybe I’ll snuggle it on the one night a month I don’t have a girl in there with me.”

“Give me a break,” McCoy muttered, settling onto the couch.

They studied in silence for a while, until McCoy noticed Jim rubbing at his eyes with the palm of his hand.

“You even studying anymore, Jim?”

“I think I just read the same paragraph like three times. Ugh.”

McCoy got up and walked over to the desk to pull Jim’s PADD from his hands. “Come on. You need to get some sleep for the meeting tomorrow. Go put your pajamas on and get in bed.”

“I’m not tired,” Jim grumbled, but he got up anyway. He pulled pajama pants and a t-shirt out of a drawer and went into the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. When he came out of the bathroom, McCoy stood up and walked over to the bed. “Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”

“I don’t need to be tucked in,” Jim said petulantly, crossing his arms.

McCoy climbed onto the bed. “Admiral Fluffy begs to differ.”

“Admiral Fluffy? Is that some kind of kinky- oh,” he said, as McCoy picked up the teddy bear and wiggled it at him.

“Admiral Fluffy says it’s bedtime,” he said, waving the bear’s arm at him. Jim cracked a smile and climbed reluctantly into bed, sliding under the covers. McCoy flopped down next to him and propped the bear on Jim’s chest. “All ready for sleepy time?” he said, in what he presumed to be a teddy bear voice. “Nighty-night, Jimmy.” At the sound of the nickname, a change came over Jim. His eyes widened and his tongue peeked out from between his lips. He pulled the bear from McCoy’s hands and turned onto his side, clutching it to his chest. He took a deep breath and his shoulders relaxed. McCoy slid up and wrapped an arm around him and rested his chin on Jim’s shoulder. “Do you want me to stay a little while, Jimmy?” he whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. “Until you fall asleep?” Jim nodded and pressed back against the solid comfort of his body. He tightened his arm, kissed Jim softly on the cheek, and settled in to wait.

Jim fell asleep quickly, so it was only ten minutes later that McCoy found himself in the hallway of the dorm, leaning heavily against the wall to catch his breath. He was dizzy, and prickles of heat ran across his skin.

When he’d caught Jim sucking his thumb the other night, he hadn’t been all that surprised. Jim kept everything buried inside, including the childhood that he’d never really had. How could he have had bedtime stories and teddy bears when his mother was too busy grieving, too busy escaping and denying? She’d seen what everyone else always saw – cocky, confident Jim – and she’d taken it at face value and let him raise himself. So yeah, it was no surprise that Jim could use a little comforting. McCoy could see that now, and he’d seen how he could help – subtly, of course, he’d never actually admit to buying a stuffed bear. Jim didn’t like being coddled, after all.

But he’d hadn’t anticipated his own reaction, the way he’d fallen so hard into the role, the way he already craved Jim’s response…that look on his face when McCoy had called him Jimmy. McCoy felt heat throb in his groin and he pressed a hand to his mouth to hold back a moan. He fought to breathe evenly, to gain control, to stand up straight and walk down the hall into the fresh air, shaking his head to clear it. He knew that in the morning it would be back to Jim and Bones, but he couldn’t help but wonder when he'd get to see Jimmy again.

*

“Bones.” Jim’s voice sounded small over the comm speaker.

“What is it, Jim?”

“I hurt myself.”

“Oh Jesus Christ, Jim, what were you doing this time?”

“Playing football on the quad.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that right? Can you make it down to the med center? I’ve still got another hour of my shift.”

“Yeah, but…can you just come here and fix it?”

McCoy heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Can it wait an hour?”

“I guess.”

“Is it a bleeding thing or a broken thing?”

“Um. Bleeding?”

“Is it in a critical area?”

“It’s on my knee.”

“I’ll see you in an hour, Jim.”

*

He found Jim lying on his bed, his head resting on Admiral Fluffy. As the door slid shut, he looked over and gave McCoy a wavering smile.

“Hey, Jim. How are ya?”

Jim shrugged, but his smile faltered and he gestured to his left knee. “It hurts.”

“Well here, sit up, let me take a look at it.”

Jim sat up, dangling his knees over the side of the bed, and McCoy knelt down with his regenerator. He checked out the cut through the tear in Jim’s jeans and looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. “That’s it? This is what you needed me here for?” he asked in disbelief. It was a cut, sure, but one that barely broke the skin. It had probably stopped bleeding about five minutes after Jim had called.

Jim shrugged and looked away. “It hurts,” he said in a small voice.

McCoy sighed. “Alright. You really don’t need this, but I’ll run the regen over it anyway.” He set a hand on Jim’s thigh and looked up into his eyes. “Now just hold still…Jimmy.”

Jim bit his lip and nodded and reached over to pull Admiral Fluffy into his lap. McCoy hoped Jim couldn’t see the flush that was coloring his skin as he ran the dermal regenerator over the cut. It healed quickly, as he’d known it would, and he looked up at Jim again.

“Feel better?”

Jim shrugged.

Bones ran his hand up Jim’s leg and leaned forward to press a kiss to his knee. He looked up to see Jim smiling at him, his blue eyes bright. McCoy stood up and reached out to touch Jim’s hair. “You were so good. You’re such a good boy, Jimmy.” Jim squirmed with happiness and McCoy finally let himself relax into a smile. He looked at Jim for a minute, wondering just how far he’d let him push this. He felt his fears sliding away as Jim kicked his legs against the bed and looked at him expectantly.

“Jim…Jimmy, do you…would you like it if I read you a story?” He tensed as he waited for Jim’s response, which came in the form of an enthusiastic nod. McCoy felt himself smile a little wider. “Do you want some juice?”

“Yeah! Um…um…apple juice!”

“Alright. You get comfy, okay? I’ll be right back.” He slipped out the door and down the hall to the replicator to get a glass of apple juice, clicking through his PADD as he waited. It took him a couple minutes, but he was able to pull up a few children’s books from the Academy library. When he got back, Jim was propped up against a pillow, waiting, and his face lit up in a smile when McCoy handed him the glass of juice. McCoy climbed onto the bed beside him, wrapping an arm around Jim’s shoulders as he felt him snuggle against his side. He gave him a quick kiss on the head and began to read. “Five little puppies dug a hole under the fence and went for a walk in the wide, wide world…”

They were halfway through a second book when Jim’s comm went off on the bedside table. McCoy reached for it and frowned. “Jim.” He looked over at him, loathe to stop what they were doing, but… “Jim…hey Jim, you with me?” Jim frowned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up slowly.

“Um. Yeah. What is it?”

“Gary Mitchell’s comming you?”

Jim frowned and shook his head to clear it and he glanced at the clock. “Fuck. I’m late for our flight sim practice. Dammit.”

“You want me to get you out of it?”

Jim smiled gratefully but shook his head. “Nah. I gotta go.” He slipped off the bed and grabbed his bag. At the door he paused and swallowed. McCoy thought he could still see a tiny bit of innocence in his eyes as he turned around. “Bones, I…thanks.”

McCoy just nodded and looked away.

*

“Jim, what the fuck are you doing here?” McCoy watched Jim’s face go from a smirk to a worried frown as he looked up from a chair in the waiting room. He knew he looked terrible – his eyes were bloodshot and he was covered with other people’s blood and the only reason he was even in the waiting room was because he couldn’t find a goddamn nurse to get him a cup of coffee. “For the love of all that is good and holy, please tell me that you’re not in need of medical treatment.”

“I’m not.”

“Wonderful. It’s been nice chatting with you, but I’ve got idiots to put back together.” He started toward the coffee machine, but Jim stood up and put a hand on his arm.

“Here.” He pressed a cup of hot, black coffee into the doctor’s hand.

McCoy looked at it, then back up at Jim, and his face softened a little. “Thanks.”

“Bad day?”

“Absolutely.”

“Come over when you’re done?”

McCoy shook his head. “I don’t think so, Jim. I’ve got a hot date with a bottle of mind-numbing liquor this evening.”

“Bones.” Jim squeezed his arm a little tighter before he could pull away. “If you want to come over maybe you could-“ he paused, lowered his voice so that McCoy had to strain to listen “-bring me some juice?”

McCoy’s heart stuttered in his chest and he had to close his eyes for a second against the wave of dizziness that washed over him. Goddammit, he had patients to work on, he couldn’t be thinking about this for the next few hours. “Jesus, Jim,” he breathed, opening his eyes to meet Jim’s earnest gaze. A few seconds passed and then he nodded. “Okay.”

Jim let go of his arm, and McCoy took another deep breath as he walked away.

*

McCoy stripped out of his scrubs and jumped in the shower, washing the day off and trying not to focus on the night ahead. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed the bottle of whiskey from his desk drawer, and headed across campus, stopping at the commissary to pick up a bottle of apple juice before making his way to Jim’s.

He wasn’t sure why he knocked, when he’d been busting in the door whenever he wanted to for the last six months. He also wasn’t sure why he smoothed a hand over his hair, so he frowned to himself and mussed it up again just before he heard Jim’s voice telling him to enter.

“Sorry,” Jim was saying as he stepped inside, “I didn’t realize how late it was.” He was still in his cadet reds, McCoy noticed, and there were diagrams flashing across his desk, so he must have been in the middle of doing homework. “I, uh…” He looked helplessly at McCoy, not sure how to get to where they both wanted to be.

McCoy took charge of the situation. “Why don’t you change out of those?” he said, nodding at Jim’s uniform. “Put on something comfortable?”

Jim flashed him a relieved smile and went to grab his flannel pants and a t-shirt. When he stepped into the bathroom to change, McCoy poured himself a tumbler of whiskey and took a sip. He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath. One more sip, and he set the glass down on the desk just as Jim stepped out of the bathroom. He was smiling already, his eyes bright, and he hugged his arms to his chest. “Hi.” He cocked his head to the side. McCoy smiled.

“Hi…Jimmy.”

Jim blushed and looked down at his feet, then back up smiling. “Are you gonna read to me again?”

“If that’s what you want.”

Jim shrugged and his gaze flicked around the room, settling on the glass of whiskey on the desk. He took a step towards it.

“No, Jimmy,” McCoy said sternly. “That’s not for you.”

Jim winced a little at his tone and frowned. McCoy’s face softened. He moved over to the desk to pour Jim a glass of apple juice. “Here,” he said kindly. “You can have this instead. It’s yummy.”

Jim shook his head. “I want that,” he said petulantly, pointing to the whiskey.

McCoy shook his head again and stepped forward, taking Jim gently by the wrist. “You can’t have that, Jimmy. That’s for big boys only.”

“I am big!” Jim said, stomping his foot.

McCoy swallowed back a laugh and wrapped his arms around Jim’s shoulders. “Yes you are, Jimmy. You’re a big boy.” He kissed him softly on the cheek. “You’re a big boy, and you’re very smart.” He felt Jim smile, pressed their cheeks together. “Now, drink your juice, and I’ll read you a story, okay?” Jim nodded and McCoy hugged him tightly for a second before stepping back and handing him his cup. Jim sipped it obediently and set it down on the bedside table as he climbed into the bed.

McCoy lifted his arm for Jim to snuggle in against his side like last time, but instead Jim situated himself in the space between McCoy’s legs, curling up against his chest and sighing contentedly. McCoy looked down at his golden head for a moment, wondering if this was a bad idea, but then Jim slid his thumb into his mouth and nestled closer into McCoy’s chest, and all he could do was wrap an arm around his shoulders and start to read. “I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there's gum in my hair and when I got out of bed this morning I tripped on the skateboard and by mistake I dropped my sweater in the sink while the water was running and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.” McCoy had chosen this story for a reason, but when Jim giggled, he felt the day’s tension start to ease from his shoulders. He read on, changing his voice to fit the tone of the story, nudging Jim when something was particularly funny, and scolding him when he saw his eyes skipping ahead to the next sentence. By the end of the story he was thinking maybe this day wasn’t so bad after all, and Jim was laughing and rolling against him, craning his head to look at him and say “Another one!”

“Another one?”

Jim nodded and smiled, and McCoy couldn’t say no to that. “Alright. One more, but then I think it’s time for doctors and little cadets to go to sleep, okay?”

“No,” Jim said, but he snuggled back into place and didn’t try to argue.

McCoy couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he pulled up another story, one he’d picked especially for Jim. “The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind and another…”

This one had pictures, so he made sure to show Jim his PADD after every few sentences. Toward the middle of the book, Jim pulled the PADD from his hand to take a closer look, and McCoy shifted a little and kissed him softly on the head. He set his chin on Jim’s shoulder to look at the pictures, turned to give him a quick peck on the temple, then one on the cheek, then another, impulsively, letting his lips linger longer than he’d intended. He pressed a hand into Jim’s hair and closed his eyes, willing his heart to stop racing, but Jim set the PADD down on the bed and pressed back against him. McCoy hissed as Jim’s ass made contact with his erection. “Jimmy…stop that.”

Jim tilted his head back to look up at him, pouting, and McCoy couldn’t stop himself from leaning down to press a hard kiss against that gorgeous mouth. “Shit,” he said gruffly, pulling away.

Jim’s mouth dropped open. “You said a bad word!”

McCoy chuckled and ran a finger down his cheek. “Yes, I did. I’m sorry, Jimmy.”

“It’s okay,” Jim said, and kissed him wetly on the chin.

“Just…we shouldn’t do that, Jimmy, okay? Come on, let’s read our story.”

Jim pushed back again, rubbing against his aching groin. “What is that?” he asked innocently.

McCoy held Jim tighter against him to stop him from moving. “Don’t worry about that,” he said through gritted teeth. “It’s just something that happens to…to big boys.”

“I am big!” Jim protested.

“Yes, I know, you are, but-“

“No, I am, look,” Jim said, grabbing McCoy’s hand and dragging it down, pressing his palm over the crotch of his flannel pajamas, against the line of his own erection.

“God, fuck, Jimmy, shit,” McCoy panted as his hand involuntarily curled around Jim’s dick. He bit his lip to keep from cursing again, then he shook his head and chuckled into Jim’s hair, laughing at his own desperation, at how deep he was in all of this and how much he didn’t want to pull away.

He loosened his grip, but Jim squirmed and whimpered, “Don’t stop.”

“Jimmy,” he whispered, mouthing at Jim’s ear. He could feel himself trembling, shaking at what he was about to say, but he said it anyway, he had to. “Do you want me to make you feel good?”

“Yeah,” Jim whispered back. “Yeah, I want you to, please make me feel good,” and McCoy shuddered with desire.

It wasn’t like he couldn’t hear it, the voice in the back of his head saying Jim, we need to talk about this, urging him to stop until he could say those words and get Jim to answer, just in case, just to make sure. But his hand was already sliding beneath the elastic of Jim’s pajama bottoms, his fingers were curling around Jim’s cock, and it felt so goddamn good. He buried his face in Jim’s neck as he stroked him slowly, squeezing his eyes shut without knowing why, until he opened them and a tear slid down his cheek. He stifled a sob as he tightened his fist around the hot, dry skin of Jim’s shaft. He murmured Jimmy’s name into his neck, over and over as he took his hand away, slid his palm up Jim’s t-shirt and up to his mouth and Jim knew what he wanted, opening his mouth to lick wetly across McCoy’s palm. Then his hand was back on Jim’s cock and he turned his head so they could press closed-mouth kisses to each others’ cheeks and lips and chins.

He fisted slickly over Jim’s length, running his thumb across the head and stroking gently, then more quickly as Jim wriggled against him, soft “oh” sounds spilling from his lips as he arched back against McCoy’s chest. He tipped his head back and McCoy caught sight of his eyes, dark and lust-drugged against his pale skin. McCoy licked into his mouth and Jim kissed back sloppily, their tongues just brushing, sweet and childlike, and McCoy could feel his own orgasm building, heat pooling in his groin. Jim shuddered in his arms, and McCoy pulled out of the kiss to watch as short, hot spurts of cum pulsed from Jim’s dick and coated his hand.

McCoy sucked gently at Jim’s ear and neck as he thrust against Jim’s back.

“What happened?” Jim asked, staring in confusion at McCoy’s loose grip on his cum-soaked cock.

The wonder in his voice sent McCoy over the edge, “Oh fuck, Jimmy,” and he pulled Jim to him as hard as he could as his body tensed and shook with his own release, tremors rocking through him for long minutes as he fought to catch his breath. Finally, he was able to loosen his embrace, rubbing his hands over Jim’s arms and through his hair and kissing him gently on the crown of his head.

“You hurt me,” Jim whispered, and McCoy glanced down in surprise to see the bite mark that he’d left on Jim’s neck. He kissed it softly, whispered that he was sorry, letting his words brush against Jim’s skin.

“It’s better now,” Jim said. McCoy smiled. He felt Jim take a deep breath. “Can I…can I make you feel good?” he asked hesitantly.

McCoy squeezed him again and shook his head. “You already did, Jimmy. You made me feel so good, baby. God, you’re so good, darlin’, my beautiful boy,” he murmured, rocking Jim in his arms.

Jim rubbed his eyes and yawned widely and McCoy smiled at him.

“Let’s go to sleep, Jimmy,” he said softly.

“My pants are all messy,” Jim protested, and McCoy let his mind wander as he imagined sliding down the bed to lick him clean, slurping the spunk from his belly and running his tongue over Jim’s softening cock, making this night last a little longer. His sucked in a ragged breath as he felt his dick twitch optimistically, but he made himself lie down instead, pulling Jim close against him.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “We can worry about that in the morning.” Among other things, he thought ruefully, and he wondered if he should try to leave before Jim woke up. Then Jim yawned again and turned, nuzzling so close that McCoy could feel the soft touch of his eyelids fluttering shut, and McCoy stopped thinking and let the world fade away.

*

When McCoy woke up in the morning, Jim was gone. His PADD and cadet uniform were gone as well, although McCoy knew he didn’t have class for three hours still. Goddammit. He got up and dressed and set out across campus to find out just how badly he’d fucked everything up.

He spotted Jim in the dining hall, talking seriously with Gary Mitchell over a tray piled high with breakfast foods. He watched for a moment from a distance, trying to decide what to do.

“Bones!” Jim had spotted him and was gesturing for him to come over. He headed over, not yet allowing himself to feel relieved. “Bones, thank god,” Jim said, pushing his tray of food towards him. “You have to help me eat some of this. I think my eyes were a little bigger than my stomach today.” He smiled at him, a Jim smile, and McCoy tried hard not to stare to see if he could see anything behind it, anything to betray Jim’s feelings about last night. He sat and pulled the tray towards himself.

“What, Gary can’t help you eat?”

“What do you think this is?” Gary asked, pointing to the massive plate of pancakes in front of him.

Bones looked at Jim with an eyebrow raised in disbelief, and Jim blushed and shrugged and said, “Dig in!”

*

Okay, so maybe McCoy hadn’t fucked up, at least as far as he could tell. Still, he knew they had to talk, if only so he could get some peace of mind and regain his focus, instead of constantly letting his thoughts drift as he wondered what Jim wanted, what exactly they were doing. The moment his shift was over, he made his way to Jim’s room. This time, he didn’t bother to knock.

“Bones?” Jim turned around from his desk to look curiously at him.

He cut right to the chase. “Jim, we need to talk about last night.”

“What are you talking about?”

So that’s how this was going to be. McCoy knew it was possible to lose oneself, to sink so far into a role that you lost track of reality and forgot what had happened, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t the case here. And even if it was, there had definitely been enough evidence for Jim to figure out exactly what had gone on between them last night.

“Jim, I’m serious. If we want to do this-“

“No, Bones!” Jim said loudly, standing up and backing away, his eyes wide and scared.

“Jim, listen to me,” McCoy said, following him into the room until Jim was backed up against the wall, his hands up in front of him. McCoy grabbed his wrists and held them firmly. “Listen to me. If we want to do this, we need to talk about it. We need to set some rules, establish guidelines-“

“No!”

“Why not, Jim?” McCoy said, louder than he’d meant.

Jim twisted his head to avoid McCoy’s eyes. “Because…because then it will be real.” He yanked himself out of McCoy’s grasp and threw himself onto the bed, burying his face in his arms. McCoy followed him, getting angrier by the second, until he realized that Jim’s shoulders were shaking with sobs. “Jim.” He touched his shoulder.

Jim’s voice was muffled in his arms, but McCoy heard him clearly. “Jimmy.”

“No,” McCoy said firmly. “I need to talk to Jim right now, not Jimmy. Jim, I need you here with me, just for a little while.”

He watched warily as Jim rolled over onto his back, glaring at him with swollen eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with me, Bones?” he croaked. “I’m a freak. Why do I like this, why the fuck…I don’t want to…I can’t…” He put his hands over his face as another set of sobs choked off anything else he’d wanted to say.

Understanding washed over McCoy and he sat up to grasp Jim’s shoulders, straddling him, leaning down into his face. “Jim. Listen to me.” Jim’s eyes were squeezed shut, tears leaking from the corners. “Look at me.” He slit his eyes open just enough to see. “It doesn’t matter, Jim. Okay? You’re not a freak, and if you are then I am, too.” He leaned down to press his forehead to Jim’s, and his voice was a rough whisper. “This is just for us, Jim. No one else needs to know. But so help me god, I want this.”

Jim’s voice was raw, as though the words were being torn from his throat. “I want it, too.”

McCoy lowered his lips to Jim’s, cautiously at first, but then Jim had a hand on the back of his head and was pulling him in for a real kiss. And this was Jim kissing him, he could tell, a practiced kiss, the way he kissed the girls he picked up at bars, and it was nice, and he could certainly see the appeal. And it meant something, too, it meant that there was more to this, to them. But then Jim was brushing his lips across McCoy’s jaw, mumbling something, “I want…I want…”

McCoy pulled back and stroked his hair and whispered. “I know. I know, Jimmy, I know.”

As he watched the capsule streak across space toward Delta Vega, McCoy felt his heart go with it. He had to take a moment to catch his breath, putting an arm out to steady himself against the wall of the corridor, as thoughts of Jim flashed through his mind. He knew who was in that capsule – Jim Kirk, the cocky genius who’d beaten the Kobayashi Maru, who’d just done a fucking space jump, who’d thrown himself in the face of his Vulcan superior for all the stupid, right reasons. He knew that, he did, but the picture kept flashing through his mind, he couldn’t push it away, the image of Jimmy, waking up scared and alone on a desolate Class M planet. “Goddammit!” McCoy pounded his hand against the wall and tried to shake the thoughts out of his head.

Even at the Kobayashi Maru hearing, he’d been thinking about how long it had been, about how much they both needed it, Jim especially. He could see it in the stiffness of his shoulders, could hear in his voice how much he needed to let go, how much he needed McCoy to hold him – fuck. He had to get back to the Bridge, had to say something now, had to get it together or they’d both be lost. Another deep breath, and he wrestled his emotions into submission, shutting down thoughts of everything but duty, forcing his mind away from that little boy, for now.

*

For now seemed to last forever, and even as the Enterprise shuddered and survived, all McCoy could do was trail his fingertips across Jim’s bandaged hand and whisper “Soon, soon.”

*

Jim held it together through the debriefings and the psych exams, through the flashing lights of press conferences and the grueling questions of Starfleet officials. He held it together, barely, and he could feel himself fraying at the edges as he headed back to his room on the evening of their third day back on Earth. He wondered if Bones might be there, let hope flare for a moment in his chest, but the room was empty when he opened the door.

He’d kicked off his shoes and was pulling off his shirt when something on the desk caught his eye. He frowned and walked over to get a closer look. A glass of juice sat on one side of the desk, next to a pad of real paper and a box of crayons and a note that read “For Jimmy.” He smiled.

*

McCoy hesitated outside the door, not sure what he’d find when he went inside. He straightened his shoulders and hit the entry code. The door opened to reveal Jim sitting cross-legged at his desk, his tongue poking out from between his lips as he colored intently on a piece of paper. McCoy felt like he was standing on a precipice and in the few short steps to Jim’s side, he let himself fall. He pulled Jim close and kissed the top of his head. “Jimmy,” he breathed.

Jim smiled up at him. “Hi. I made a picture.” He held it up. McCoy took the paper from his hand and looked at it, then he crouched down so he was at Jim’s eye-level.

“This is a beautiful picture, Jimmy.”

“It’s a farm.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Is that a pig?” he asked, pointing to a pink blob.

“Uh huh. And that’s a cow, and now I’m gonna draw some chickens.”

McCoy wanted to change out of his uniform, but he couldn’t bring himself to move away, to even look away for one second from the innocence and happiness written across Jim’s face as he continued coloring. He must have noticed the way McCoy was looking at him, enraptured, because he turned toward him curiously.

“Do you want to kiss?” Jim asked.

McCoy chuckled and ducked his head. “Not now, Jimmy. You keep drawing for as long as you want.”

McCoy changed and sat on the bed, periodically glancing up from his PADD to watch Jim, to watch the tension drain from his shoulders as the hardest decision he had to make became which color to use next. Finally, Jim stood and walked over to the bed, clutching a drawing in his hand. He flopped down beside McCoy and showed it to him. A rocket ship, an ancient model, silver and red against the background of a night sky. A smiling blond stick figure waved from the window. McCoy smiled.

“Is that you, Jimmy? Are you the captain?”

Jim bit his lip and shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper. “I’m not good enough.”

McCoy felt a tightening in his chest as he heard Jim’s buried thoughts fall uninhibited from Jimmy’s lips. He pulled the picture gently from Jim’s grasp and cupped his face in his hands. “You are good enough. You don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, do you hear me? You can do anything, anything you want to do, I know you can. Do you believe me?”

Jim shrugged.

“Hey.” McCoy gave Jim’s head a little shake, ran a soothing hand through his hair. “Jimmy. You are the smartest and bravest little boy I know. And no one can take that away from you. Tell me that.”

Slowly, Jim lifted his eyes to meet McCoy’s. “I’m smart and brave,” he said, his voice small, but stronger now.

McCoy chuckled. “Yes. Yes, darlin’, you are. The smartest and the bravest. Right?”

Jim nodded and McCoy looked helplessly at him as he leaned in to press their lips together.

Their kisses were sweet and quiet and they explored each other’s faces with their fingertips and wrapped their hands together. Then Jim asked if McCoy would make him feel good again and McCoy nodded, said of course he would, he would do whatever Jimmy wanted. And Jim’s eyes twinkled and he asked McCoy if he would get him an elephant, and McCoy said he was silly and tickled him along his sides and rolled him over and blew on his stomach. And Jim squirmed happily beneath him and looked at him and said “Kiss me down there.”

McCoy had to close his eyes against the wave of desire that swept over him, and he swallowed hard and whispered “Okay.”

He touched his lips to the soft fuzz of Jim’s belly, flicked his tongue into his belly button, too far gone to smile when Jim twitched and giggled at the sensation. He rubbed his nose and lips against the flat surface of Jim’s stomach, kissing and nuzzling his way down, until he reached the waistband of Jim’s pajama pants. He could feel the heat of Jim’s arousal and he pressed his face into the flannel, sliding his cheek against the rigid line of Jim’s cock, then parting his lips and mouthing over it until the fabric was damp with his saliva.

Jim whimpered and arched his hips and looked down the bed. “Kiss it,” he whined, pouting adorably at him. McCoy nodded and slid the pants down over his hips, freeing his swollen length. He touched it gently, sliding his fingers up the shaft as he pressed a damp kiss to the tip. Jim made a surprised sound in the back of his throat and McCoy kissed his way down, pausing to rub his nose into the curls at the base of Jim’s cock. “You’re so good to me, Jimmy,” he murmured, pressing his own erection into the mattress. “So beautiful, so perfect,” and he felt his voice breaking so he dragged his tongue up the length and swallowed him whole.

He bobbed his head over Jim’s thick, smooth cock, the sounds of his own pleasured grunts and the wet suction of his lips loud in his ears as he slid his hands around to clutch at Jim’s ass. Above him he could hear Jim’s breathing becoming more uneven, hitching and quickening as he got closer. McCoy could feel him twitching and tensing under his hands and mouth and he almost wanted to stop, to wait, but then Jim bucked his hips and cried out as he came, pulsing hot bursts of cum down McCoy’s throat.

McCoy swallowed and scrambled up the bed to take Jim in his arms. Jim’s eyes were rolled back in his head as his body shook with residual pleasure. “Did it feel good, Jimmy?” he asked breathlessly.

Jim nodded, overwhelmed, and a sob of pure emotion escaped his throat.

“Jimmy, I want you to touch me now, okay? I’ll show you how,” McCoy said softly. Jim nodded and McCoy scrabbled frantically at his own fly, then he pulled Jim’s hand down until his fingertips brushed against his cock. Jim felt him timidly, exploring with light touches as McCoy rocked against him and tried to keep from begging for more. But then Jim wrapped a loose fist around his cock and gave an experimental tug, and McCoy was already over the edge, reaching down to squeeze Jim’s hand around him, thrusting into his own cum until he was spent.

He pulled Jim’s hand up to his mouth. Jim’s eyes widened as he watched McCoy lick the cooling liquid from his hand, lapping at his fingers until he was clean. He pressed Jim’s damp palm against his cheek and held him there, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths as he felt Jim touch their lips together softly. When he opened his eyes, he found Jim watching him, or trying to, his eyelids fluttering shut against his will. He forced them open once more and looked into McCoy’s eyes. “Did I do good?”

McCoy smiled and pressed his face into Jim’s neck. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, you did. You can go to sleep now, baby boy.”

Jim smiled and let his eyes close, and McCoy kissed him softly and spilled his heart into the soft blond hair. “I love you, Jimmy.”

*

Two days later, Jim received his commission. After the ceremony, McCoy fought his way through the crowd to find him. He grinned when he finally caught sight of Jim but stopped short, uncertain of how to approach, unsure what Jim would want from him, here and now. He needn’t have worried, because Jim’s eyes lit up when he saw McCoy watching him, and he threw himself into his arms for a crushing embrace. “Bones!”

“Congratulations, Captain. You deserve this. I-” he paused, then finished in a low, gruff voice. “I’m so proud of you.”

He started to pull away, but Jim held him tighter, and he could feel Jim’s heart pounding as he whispered into his ear. “Bones…the other night…when you said…when you told Jimmy…”

McCoy pushed a hand into Jim’s hair and held him close, his pulse racing, his forehead pressed against Jim’s temple. “I meant you, Jim. I meant you. I meant everything you are.” His friend, and his captain, and the beautiful sweet boy who needed him so much.

“I love you, too, Bones,” Jim told him. McCoy could feel Jim’s hands clutching at his uniform, clinging to him. “You’re everything to me.”

“I know, Jim,” McCoy whispered, blinking back tears. “I know.”