kinderjedi: (km snowflakes)
[personal profile] kinderjedi
Title: Make My Wish Come True
Author: [livejournal.com profile] kinderjedi
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 1,767
Summary: For [livejournal.com profile] space_wrapped prompt #8, sexy Santa lingerie. :)
A/N: Jim being Jim, I’m afraid the lingerie is more metaphorical than actual. And many thanks to [livejournal.com profile] sullacat for her help! ♥

It had seemed logical enough when he’d come up with the plan. Leonard McCoy liked to think he was an observant man, and it hadn’t escaped his notice that despite that sunny, magnetic personality that seemed to draw people in and make them want to know him better, Jim Kirk was a loner. He didn’t have anyone all that close to him, which was made all the more evident the closer Leonard got. They were two of a kind, he supposed, both licking their own wounds when they’d turned up on that shuttle, but despite all his own demons, Leonard still had family and friends he could count on back home.

Jim, it would seem, had Leonard. And that was okay, really, because the more Leonard got to know that brash, cocky kid, the more he liked what he saw. There was more to him than a name or a reputation. Kindness, that was there underneath all that bravado. And underneath that was a quiet determination to prove himself, with a staggering genius to back it up. No, Leonard had thought to himself more than once, Jim was going to do just fine at everything he’d set his mind to accomplish, which was a hell of a lot.

But the kid was alone, by choice or by chance or a little of both, given his history. Leonard knew enough from some of their more maudlin, liquor-fueled conversations to have a sketchy idea of what the official record didn’t say, and he knew from the way they lived in each other’s pockets, always barging in and out without announcing themselves, that while Jim was never lacking for companionship if he wanted it, he held them all at arm’s length. None of them got close enough to see the little things that told Leonard what he needed to know.

Like the fact that Jim worked himself hard. He didn’t let up, determined to finish the Academy in three years instead of the usual four, and threw himself headlong into his studies. Oh, Jim could party and let off steam, that was for damn sure. But Leonard knew that the larger part of his time was spent immersed in xenolinguistics or advanced diplomacy or studying tactical charts, that brilliant mind soaking it all up like a sponge.

Or the way Jim was always turned out neatly for class, his uniform sharp and clean, but when he took off his boots at the end of the day, there were holes in his socks. "Haven’t had time for laundry," he’d shrugged that off when Leonard had noticed. The day after that Leonard threw a bag down on the bed when he came by, muttering something about a care package from his Aunt Dot and more socks than a man knew what to do with. Jim had given him a long look that told Leonard he was a fucking terrible liar, but had accepted the socks with an amused grin.

It had begun like that, Leonard finding an excuse to take care of Jim now and then, telling himself it was just what a friend would do. And if he had begun to feel something more than just friendship for Jim Kirk, he wasn’t going to let on. Their friendship was something too important to be risked and Leonard didn’t want to end up like the others, set back at arm’s length or worse when he inevitably fucked things up. It was better this way, better to keep Jim as close as he could than risk everything falling apart again. That, Leonard thought, might just kill him.

But lately things had begun to change, the shift so gradual that Leonard hadn’t even noticed at first. There were still those amused, knowing looks sometimes when he arrived with takeout or another care package to share. (It hadn’t been a complete lie. Aunt Dot had been sending things regularly each month, usually homemade candy or sweets with the occasional socks or underwear thrown in.) They still had the occasional evenings spent shoulder to shoulder, drinking and talking, the nights of drinking and not talking having mostly tapered off. Sometimes when they were studying or simply doing nothing much, Leonard would become aware of those blue eyes watching him, Jim’s expression making his heart leap just a little bit.

Or there were the times when Leonard barged in and Jim was fresh out of the shower, when he knew they’d arranged to meet at a specific time but somehow Jim always managed to be running late. That was another thing Leonard had picked up on as he learned what made him tick. Jim was punctual to a fault, so the fact that Leonard had been cooling his heels lately while Jim wandered around in nothing but a pair of those damn standard-issue briefs told him that something was up, no pun intended. It wasn’t as though he’d never seen Jim naked before. They’d changed clothes in front of each other countless times, neither one of them what you’d call shy. But with these feelings Leonard had been wrestling with for a while now, he couldn’t help enjoying the view.

He kept reminding himself that looking was all he was going to be doing. Leonard managed to maintain his usual balance of amusement and exasperation with Jim. But the easy way they had with each other became a little strained sometimes, at least on Leonard’s side, when he noticed something new to distract him. Like how lickable the corner of Jim’s jaw was, or the flash of hard, lean stomach when they were playing catch out in the quad and Jim backpedaled, stretching to catch the ball and falling to the grass with it tucked in his arms. It was nearly Christmas, and many of the cadets had gone home for the midwinter break. As usual the two of them were among those who elected to stay in San Francisco, spending their time working, in Leonard’s case, or studying, in Jim’s. The peace and quiet was a sharp contrast to the usual activity, and they frequently went out into the city looking for dinner or a little amusement.

It was dinner that night. Leonard had let himself in as usual and found Jim rummaging through his dresser drawers with a frown on his face. He stood there just inside the door, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of the damp, low-slung red towel wrapped snugly around Jim, molding to the thick, strong muscles of his thighs. And then Jim bent down to check the bottom drawer and Leonard groaned, watching the towel hug the curve of that impressive ass. Too late he realized he must have been louder than he’d thought, because Jim straightened up slowly and turned, eyeing Leonard with what could only be described as a shit-eating grin.

Leonard would have said something smart to wipe that smirk right off Jim’s face, but he was too busy staring at Jim, his chest a wall of solid, lean muscle dusted with a smattering of hair. His eyes followed that sprinkling of dark hair down beneath the towel to where the damp cotton clung to an impressive bulge. Leonard cleared his throat, or tried to, but something got hung up and he ended up making a strangled noise. Something passed between the two of them, just a flash of something honest and reassuring and needy in Jim’s eyes, a quirk at the corner of his mouth, and Leonard crossed his arms, one eyebrow raised.

"Looks drafty," he commented when he’d recovered the power of speech. Jim had the grace to flush, or maybe that was just a trick of the light. Leonard stepped closer, realizing to his surprise that it hadn’t been the light. Jim’s face was decidedly pink, which confirmed what he had begun to suspect. Jim was up to something.

"Couldn’t find any clean underwear," Jim confessed. "I had to run out earlier and pick some up. It's here somewhere..." He bit his lip as Leonard stepped closer without reply, and turned back to the bed. "I’ll just... get dressed."

Leonard’s brow furrowed for a fraction of a second, confused by that look on Jim’s face as he turned away. Almost like he was hesitant, hoping Leonard would say or do something...

"Don’t bother on my account." The words were a little gruff, slipping out before he could think better of them. His voice was low and rough when he continued. "I mean..." Leonard sighed, looking down and raking a hand through his hair. "Hell, Jim, I don’t know what I meant by that. Just..." He blinked when Jim moved close, his body and that damned towel in Leonard’s line of vision, so surprising that he stopped talking mid-sentence and may have held his breath. He definitely held it in the next moment, when Jim reached out and tilted his chin up with one hand, his eyes steady on Leonard’s face when he finally met that blue gaze.

When Jim leaned in to close the gap between them, it was the most natural thing in the world for Leonard to meet him halfway. Their lips touched, soft at first, just a light and curious kiss that soon deepened. Leonard was dimly aware of his hands coming up to rest on Jim’s bare shoulders and Jim’s arms sliding around his waist as they lingered. The feel of Jim’s tongue teasing at the seam of his lips made him growl low in his throat, and just for a moment Leonard let himself slip, the resolve to protect his battered heart weakening as he let Jim in.

Neither of them moved when the kiss ended, save for Leonard gathering Jim even closer and letting out a small sigh as their foreheads touched. He wasn’t sure what to do or say next, but he knew that he would be sorry when this moment ended. Because it would end, that much he knew. But Jim wasn’t pulling away; on the contrary, he was nosing against Leonard with a sound that sent his blood rushing south. Maybe...

"Bones?"

Leonard swallowed, pulling back enough to look Jim in the eye, confused and uncertain and hoping that they hadn’t just ruined their friendship entirely. "Yeah, Jim?"

"Stop thinking so hard," Jim instructed him, his lips curving up in a warm, bright smile before he leaned in for another taste.

Leonard blinked and felt himself responding, something inside him breaking at the sight of Jim’s face so open and happy. Maybe, he thought as their lips touched again, this could work out after all.
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