Every time things get bad and it seems like life can’t possibly get any worse, it most assuredly will. Today McCoy had the joyous task of attending a court hearing which ultimately decided that Jocelyn was the better parent. And sure, McCoy worked too many hours and drank just a little bit too much, but he loved his little girl more than his very life itself and no lawyer or judge was going to tell him otherwise. It didn’t even matter that Jocelyn won the house and half his money. The worst of it was the realization that he’d never get to see his little princess again. She’d make sure of that.
He doesn’t remember exactly when he got to the bar, or how he ended up on the floor of the god forsaken place, punch drunk and aching in all the wrong places. But there he was, laying in a crumpled heap and marinating in his own blood, staring blankly at the dingy, paint chipped ceiling. And the pounding in his head wasn’t quite enough to numb the pain in his heart. So he gets up, anchors himself to the counter, and tries again. The room is tilting a little to the left but that doesn’t stop McCoy from taking another swing at one of the men he belatedly remembers he compared to a Regilian bloodworm.
Predictably, he reunites with the warped wooden floor and doesn’t make much of an attempt to stop it. Spending all of his time practicing his God Given gift of healing has made him an excellent surgeon and an abysmal fighter. The pain is a little more distracting now, which is exactly what he was going for in the first place. Sated for the moment, McCoy is content simply to lie there until the urge to finish what he’d started motivates him to stand again.
A body falling heavily to the floor just beside him gives McCoy a jolt. The meathead he’d picked a fight with is out cold and his grunts had apparently run off. A man with blonde hair and blinding blue eyes is looking down at him sympathetically.
No, wait, that isn’t sympathy. That’s pity.
“You again.” McCoy grunts and attempts to pull himself up again, shoving firmly at the stranger who tries to help him. This isn’t the first time this knight in shining whatever has swooped in to scrape McCoy off the floor. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” Blondie furrows his brows and persists, grabbing McCoy under the arm to pull him upright.
“I hate to see you do this to yourself.” He says. How poetic.
McCoy actually starts to laugh, despite his ribs protesting. “Why should you give a rat’s ass?”
The man actually looks hurt. “You know why.”
And he’s right. McCoy remembers, despite previous attempts to forget every word of that fucking conversation. Yes, he’s seen this guy many times before. Between surgeries, at lunch breaks, during late nights at the office. McCoy saved his life once, been elbow deep in his chest to put him back together again after he’d– No, no time to think about that right now. He’s not a surgeon anymore.
McCoy knows this man very well.
“Goddamn it, Jim, you don’t owe me a fuckin’ thing, alright? You’ve saved my ass enough times. We’re even, now, so stop showing your face around here!“ McCoy bares his teeth as he snarls every word and shoves a mug of beer off the counter just to hear it shatter. Jim doesn’t back up or look scared, doesn’t even flinch. Instead he stares at McCoy with such an intensity that he stops dead in his tracks.
“You’re coming home with me, Bones. Whether you like it or not.”
Then Jim is reaching forward and curling his fingers tightly around McCoy’s wrist and somehow drinking himself into oblivion doesn’t seem worth it anymore. With that single action McCoy feels all the fight leave his body. How is it so easy for Jim to make him forget about the hell he’d faced not hours before? The only thing McCoy can focus on now is the heat of Jim’s hand burning into his abused body, melting away the tension that he wants to torture himself with. A slight tug is all it takes to edge him towards the door.
This time, he’ll go willingly into Jim’s embrace. And maybe it won’t be the last.
Person A always wears sunglasses so Person B has never seen their eyes. Finally, A takes off their glasses and B is so flustered and shocked that they just stare into A’s eyes for the rest of the day.
Can you believe that it’s canon that bones saved the crew of the enterprise and the planet earth because he was in love with jim kirk and couldn’t leave him behind
Jim is a newly turned werewolf who doesn’t really understand all the changes in his body. Why is he so much faster than usual, why does he smell something from so far away and he hears things he shouldn’t be hearing, and holy shit, that last fist fight ended way quicker than it should and with significant more damage done to the other guy.
Leonard McCoy as a hunter, who’s totally rocking that typical broody and broken hunter outfit. Leather jackets, v-neck shirts and baggy jeans, carrying a gun like it’s a second nature to him. He’d carry a necklace with a fang around his neck to warn werewolves he means business – though the only ones close enough to have seen it haven’t lived to tell the tale.
Until Jim happens. This clumsy, hyperactive puppy of a werewolf doesn’t even know what’s happening to him. He doesn’t belong to a pack, doesn’t listen to an alpha, who is as alone in this world as Leonard is. He’s ridiculously easy to track down. Wolf sightings around the full moon, mauled farm animals, police records of this man stumbling out of the woods naked the morning after the full moon with no recollection of the night before. This is too easy. So Leonard tracks him down, following him to his apartment and he breaks in. Jim should have heard him coming, but the boy is still startled when a stranger is suddenly standing in his living room with a freaking gun.
Leonard was going to shoot him. Quick and easy. He’s heard other werewolves beg for their lives before, but something’s different with Jim. He doesn’t plea for his life, he doesn’t make an attempt to fight Leonard, either. Instead, he begs Leonard to help figure out what’s wrong with him. Because by now, Jim has figured out something is happening with his body, and he has also figured out that this stranger in his living room is a consequence of that. Leonard being incredibly reluctant to lower his gun, but something about those bright blue eyes looking confused, not blood thirsty or rabid. So he lowers his gun, letting out a long sigh and something along the lines of “I’m going to regret this”.
But he doesn’t regret it. Leonard has spent many years tailing werewolves, tracking them, fighting and killing them. He knows them pretty well. So he stays in town a while, teaching Jim the ropes of how to use his newfound powers. “For good,” he stresses each time he’s with Jim. “If you ever kill someone, I’m going to have to put you down.” Jim doesn’t argue it. He lets himself get tied up in some dark and scary basement come the next full moon, and now that he’s aware of his situation, his transformation is the most painful experience ever. Leonard is the only thing keeping him somewhat sane. Mostly because Leonard’s voice keeps reminding him to ease into it, to keep breathing, and gradually, it becomes easier. Jim gets a hang of his strength, and Leonard slowly starts relying on Jim to help him find other monsters. Rogue werewolves, other supernaturals, and general bad guys.
And when Jim does kill someone, it’s to save Leonard’s life. They walked right into a trap, and Jim loses his control when he sees Leonard might get killed by this insane killer. He tears the man apart, and almost attacks Leonard, too. Almost. Leonard raises his gun, but Jim pulls back, cowering back in a corner because he just killed someone. Evil or not, that happened, and it’s freaking him out. Leonard gets up, crouching down in front of Jim and he just holds him to calm him down. “You should kill me now. I’ve killed.” Jim says. Instead, Leonard sighs and pats Jim’s shoulder, pulling him back up on his feet. “You did good,” he says, softly, but reassuring. “Let me do the killing next time.”
On a less serious note:
Jim totally has a thing for getting scratched behind his ears, or a belly rub.
Leonard jokingly saying “good boy” once, but then finding out Jim loves it, so he continues saying it every time Jim makes him proud.
Jim recognizing Leonard as pack. And pack doesn’t leave each other behind, not even when Leonard is drunk and sad and really needs a belly rub, too. Leonard kicks him out of the motel room for trying.
Heated makeout sessions because holy shit, Leonard may be strong, but Jim can lift him up and pin him against the wall with no effort whatsoever. Good boy.
shealwaysreads 