The Thousandth Man

by Faithful Penelope

Sometimes all Jim sees in the mirror is his father. Bones shows him he's much more than that.

First, Kirk isn't at lunch.

It's unusual, but not unheard of, and McCoy doesn't worry, because Kirk insists on both an above-average course load and above-average social life, and he's got to fit it all in sometime. So Bones eats alone and goes about his day.

Then, Kirk isn't at dinner.

That's more unusual. It's only Tuesday, so Jim hasn't gone to hit up the bars – the kid has some semblance of appropriateness when it comes to weekday drinking – and Bones hasn't gotten called to the clinic, so he hasn't been injured. He wouldn't really be worried at all, except Jim also hasn't responded to McCoy's comm about coming over to help McCoy with his Interstellar Diplomacy prep, a tutoring duty Jim takes very seriously, mainly because McCoy so bad at it. ("Bones, we've gone over this. Do it because I told you to, you damned idiot, does not qualify as appropriate negotiating language.") He's waiting in front of the mess hall, trying to decide if he should comm Kirk again, when he overhears a very interesting snippet of conversation.

" – so Kirk protests, but Admiral Barnett says giving the speech is a singular opportunity, and Kirk should be grateful. I thought Kirk's head was going to explode."

Speech? McCoy hesitates for a second, then follows the two cadets inside into the mess hall. They fall into line and McCoy slides in behind them.

" – why he's here, isn't he? Because of his dad and the Kelvin and Pike's fortuitous choice of dissertation topic. So if the admiralty wants him to give a speech at Remembrance Day, he should do it and look happy about it."

A speech. At Remembrance Day. About George Kirk.

Well, shit.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He's not at the library, or McCoy's room, or their usual bar, so McCoy checks the place Jim is least likely to be: his room.

Kirk hates his tiny room, wedged on the third floor of the Academy's biggest dorm. He jokes it's because he doesn't want to have to go down the hall to pee but Bones thinks it makes Kirk feel claustrophobic, because someone who's destined for the stars is never going to be comfortable in an 8 by 6 room. It's why Kirk spends most of his free time in other people's rooms – mostly McCoy's larger suite in the medical professionals building, with its own kitchenette and bathroom and comfortable couch, long enough for him to sleep on – and the libraries scattered throughout campus. It's why it's McCoy's last stop on his finding Jim tour.

He rings the chime, but there's no response. A cadet – Mitchell, Mitchum, something like that – walks by and eyes McCoy for a second. McCoy glares and the kid takes off down the hall, disappearing into a bathroom. Bones waits a few more seconds, then uses his medical override to let him in.

The room is sterile – Jim didn't come to the Academy with any luggage (physical, at least) and hasn't accumulated any since – and dark, and it takes a few moments for McCoy's eyes to adjust enough to see the form lying on the bed. He thinks Jim might be asleep but then he sighs.

"Thought that medical override was for emergencies only."

"Yeah, well. Ask me that the next time you hack my door code." He puts his hands on his hips. "What are you doing here?"

"It's my room, Bones," Jim says, and he sounds both amused and annoyed.

"The room you never use. You weren't at – shit." Bones almost trips over a boot. "Damn it. Computer, lights at 75%." The lights come up and they both squint against the sudden brightness. Bones blinks and sees Jim is mostly undressed in just a pair of jeans, his red uniform laying in pieces around the room. "You weren't at dinner. Or lunch."

"I wasn't hungry."

"Well, I know that's not true, because I have never seen you walk away from a meal, not even after you got food poisoning from that Cardassian – Korean fusion place." He leans against Kirk's desk. "This have anything to do with Admiral Barnett's request?"

Jim's head comes up in surprise, and he pushes up his elbows. "And how the hell did you hear about that?"

"A pair of bitchy Chatty Cathies in the mess hall. Barnett asked you to speak at Remembrance Day?"

Kirk scoffs, and he lays back down to stare at the ceiling. "They're making one of the Kelvin survivors an admiral, so what better chance to put George Kirk's son on display. Barnett was practically pissing himself he was so happy."

"Why the hell would he be happy about that?"

"Because, Bones." Kirk's voice is bitter. "The child of tragedy who lost his father on the day of his birth to a great heroic act. Who grew up aimless and lawless, a good for nothing hoodlum, only to be rescued by Starfleet and put on the command track. I mean, seriously, what could be better."

"Jesus, Jim." The pain in Kirk's voice makes his body hurt. "That's…fuck. I don't know what to say to that."

Kirk chuckles but it's a hollow sound. "It is what it is, Bones. They want to parade me around for the alumni committee, show them what good work Starfleet does. I'm not surprised."

"It's not fucking right," Bones spits out. He's furious, at Barnett, at the alumni committee, at the idiots in the mess hall. "You're here because you're a fucking genius. Starfleet is lucky to have you, not the other way around."

"Yeah, sure." Kirk hauls himself up off the bed. "Look, thanks for the pep talk, but it's fine. I know what people think."

Bones hears the resignation in Jim's voice. "And what is that?" he asks slowly.

"I told you, Bones." Kirk looks at him and Bones is stunned by the deadness in those bright blue eyes. "A charity case. Pike's little project."

The statement takes McCoy's breath away for a minute, and Kirk takes the silence as an opportunity to start walking away. He leans to grab a boot from the floor but is stopped by a firm hand on his wrist. He glares up at McCoy.

"And what do you think, Jim?"

Kirk's eyes narrow. "What do I think about what?"

"When you look at yourself? What do you see?"

Kirk yanks his hand free. McCoy lets him but doesn't move, and the room's too small for him to navigate without Bones stepping aside. "Gee, Dr. McCoy," he sneers. "I didn't know I'd signed up for a therapy session."

Bones lets the comment go, because that's what Jim wants, for him to fight back. "You didn't answer my question."

"And I'm not going to." Jim's in his personal space now. "Now, move."

"No."

"Move or I'll make you move," Jim hisses. McCoy's bigger but Jim's got a lot more combat training, and they both know it. So Bones changes tactics.

"Fine." He shifts over, and Jim shoves past to grab a shirt off the desk. But before he can move again, Bones swings an arm around his waist and pulls him up against his chest.

"Bones, what the fuck - "

"Look up," Bones commands, and Jim does, to see he's standing in front of his mirror. He looks at his face, red and tired, then down to McCoy's tan hand, pressed against the light skin of Jim's stomach, holding him in place. He goes to twist away but it's half-hearted, because he's tired, and sad, and McCoy feels good against his back, so McCoy can easily pull him back in.

"What do you see?" Bones asks again. He keeps his arm locked, expecting a fight, and is surprised when it doesn't come, and Jim's shoulders sag a little instead.

"This is stupid," Jim protests.

"It isn't."

"I don't know what you want."

"The only thing I ever want from you, the truth," Bones says, and when Jim looks up in surprise McCoy realizes that it must be the first time anyone's ever expected that and only that of him, and it breaks McCoy's heart a little. He relaxes his arm, his hand, although he doesn't move it, just keeps it as a steady presence. "Forget Starfleet, Jim. Forget the Academy, and Barnett, and Cadets Kirk and McCoy. It's just Jim and Bones here. So tell me, when you look in the mirror, what do you see?"

Jim's eyes are swimming now, with a sea of emotions, the depth of which Bones can only begin to guess at. The James T. Kirk façade – the bravado, the charisma, the I can't help it if I'm this awesome attitude he throws at anyone he encounters – is gone, and he looks unsure and afraid and impossibly young.

"I see…" his voice fades out almost as soon as he speaks.

McCoy waits.

"I see a fuck-up." The words are quiet and raw and McCoy never wants to hear that sound in Jim's voice again. "I see a fuck-up who's never going to live up to his father's legacy."

"Damn it, Jim." There's nothing he can say in that moment so Bones just wraps his other arm around Jim's shoulders and pulls him close to him, rests his head against Jim's. Jim's chest shakes under his arm as he tries to control his breathing and keep the tears in. They stay like that for a while, until Jim's breathing softens some and Bones can be sure he's got his own tears under control. Then he lifts his head and rests his chin on Jim's shoulder. Jim's eyes are cloudy but open. "Do you want to know what I see?"

Jim just looks at McCoy's reflection in the mirror.

"I see the son of George and Winona Kirk. I see a kid who had a fucked up beginning and fucked up childhood and assumed all of it was his fault. I see a kid with a dead dad and mom who couldn't deal and a step-dad who beat him for existing." Kirk's starting to pull away, shaking his head, and Bones presses him back. "No, I'm not done. And I'm sorry, Jim. I'm sorry you had to go through that, that they taught you it was okay for people to treat you that way."

"Don't, Bones," Jim whispers, and hides his face, but McCoy grabs his chin and steers it back until they're eye to eye in the mirror again.

"But you know what else I see?"

"I see a fucking genius, a high-school drop-out who's gonna finish the Academy in three years. Who I can tell you right know, is going to be a starship captain, and soon. I see a student who barely has time to breathe under his crazy course load but still makes the time to help out his fellow students through, oh, I don't know, basic diplomacy." He raises an eyebrow, and Jim quirks a smile, just barely. "I see a kid who is charismatic and popular and would be prom king, if Starfleet Academy had proms, but still makes room at our lunch table for that tiny Russian who never shuts up so he doesn't get beat up by the security-track meatheads."

"Pavel," Jim croaks. "His name is Pavel."

"Yeah, well, whatever his name is, you're the reason he's still in one piece."

Jim shakes his head. "I – I think you're giving me a little too much credit. Really, I appreciate all this, I do, but - "

"But nothing. And I haven't gotten to the most important part yet."

Jim swallows thickly, and looks back up. "And what's that?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. Bones smiles.

"I see my best friend. I see the kid who met a crazy man who told him his eyes might bleed and threatened to throw up on his shoes, and decided we were gonna be friends. I see the kid who doesn't question me when I'm sitting in the dark with a bottle of bourbon feeling sorry for myself, just grabs a glass and keeps me company. I see the kid who single-handedly dragged me, kicking and screaming, through flight training and still makes sure I have some semblance of a social life."

He pauses. Jim's eyes are wet, but some of the desperation is gone, replaced with just might be hope.

"Jim, I see the one person I really trust. And I see the only reason I would ever consider going out into the black. So darlin', either I'm the most delusional bastard who ever lived, or you're a whole lot more than you're giving yourself credit for."

He finally goes silent, just watches Jim in the mirror. Kirk's jaw is set tight, and his hands clench and unclench at his sides as he tries to remain in control. Bones doesn't know whether to brace himself for a hug or a punch, but he knows Jim needs to let the energy out somehow.

"You don't have to be strong, you know. Not for me."

It's the push Jim needs, and he spins in McCoy's arms, arms coming around him, face buried in McCoy's neck. Bones feels wet tears on his skin and pulls Jim as close as he can, stroking the strong back under his hands. He realizes his own face is wet – God, he hasn't cried since his daddy died – and lays his cheek down in Jim's hair, murmuring soft, comforting nonsense into the blond strands.

They stay there for a while, long enough for McCoy's legs to start to ache, before the sobs quiet and Jim pulls back. Bones lets him go, reluctantly, and waits.

"I – " Jim swallows, and runs a hand over his wet face. "Fuck, Bones, I –" He gives up on trying to say anything coherent and kisses Bones instead.

McCoy jolts under the sudden assault, but gives in easily, because damned if Jim's mouth doesn't feel like heaven. Kirk's tongue sneaks out and licks at McCoy's lips and McCoy opens to it, letting himself fall into the kiss completely. Jim's hands are on his shoulders, his back, and Bones reaches up to touch his face, feels the wetness there –

"Wait." He pulls back, immediately missing the warmth of Jim's mouth. "Jim, wait."

"What - why?" Jim gasps out, his breath coming in puffs on McCoy's face. "Come on, get back here."

"No," McCoy grits out, grabbing Jim's hand as he tries to pull Bones closer. "No, Jim. We have to stop. We have to talk about this."

Kirk yanks his hand loose. "You don't want this?" he asks, and Bones can hear it in his voice, that the walls are going back up. He grabs Kirk's hand back, wraps his other hand around his neck and pulls their foreheads together.

"Don't do that. Don't close back up. I kissed you back, didn't I? I just don't think right now is the best time to do this." Jim scoffs, and Bones gives him a little shake. "Your emotions are running high, Jim, and I don't want you to do something you'll regret because of it."

"I know what I'm doing," Jim retorts.

I don't know that you do, McCoy wants to say. "Jim, I just think we need to step back and think about this. Maybe get some rest and then talk."

"Fine." Jim stands up straight, shaking off McCoy. "Fine, you can go home then."

"Jim, no. Listen to me, damn it." He grabs at Kirk's shoulders, holding him in place. "I'm not rejecting you, and I'm not walking away. I just …we need some time to think."

Jim regards him for a long moment, then his face softens, and his shoulders relax the slightest bit under McCoy's hands. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'm agreeing with you, Bones, don't push it."

McCoy chuckles. "Okay. Why don't…why don't we lie down. It's late."

Jim regards him with a steady look. "I've just got the bed, Bones."

"Yeah. I know."

Jim's lip quirks up in a small smile, and he nods, shucks off his jeans, and lies back down on the bed. McCoy pulls off his cadet reds, leaving on his shorts and undershirt, and hesitates just a moment before lying down next to Jim. He lays one hand on Jim's chest and strokes gently, and Jim tilts his head under McCoy's chin and hums.

"Bones?"

"Yeah, Jim?"

There's a pause. "Thanks."

Bones smiles. "No problem, kid."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He wishes he could say he's surprised when Jim's gone in the morning, but he's not.

It doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bones doesn't really speak to Jim again for another two weeks.

A heretofore unknown strain of Bajorian flu hits campus and Bones is at the hospital any time he doesn't have class, tending to those affected and getting vaccines into those who aren't. The same flu grounds the class due to go up for their standard week-long intraorbit training so the next class, Jim's class, goes up instead. By the time it's under control and the paperwork is done, it's weeks later, Remembrance Day.

McCoy can't go, he's on shift, but comms Jim to say hey, maybe see how he is. He's not really sure he'll even get a response, so he's doubly surprised when Jim shows up at the hospital.

"You're not hurt, are you?" McCoy asks immediately.

Kirk rolls his eyes. "No. I can manage to keep myself in one piece sometimes."

"News to me," McCoy grumbles. He pauses. "What've you been up to?"

"Ah, classes, and then intraorbit training, and, you know, today." Jim scratches the back of his head, a uncharacteristically tentative tic. "You, uh, you gonna be there today?"

"I'm on shift," McCoy says, and tries not to wince at the flicker of pain in Jim's eyes. "I tried to get off, I did, but with the flu and everything we're just getting back up to speed."

"No, it's fine," Jim assures him, sounding like it's anything but. "I just…" He shrugs. "Just, uh, nerves, I guess."

Jim Kirk doesn't get nerves, he thinks. "You'll do fine," he says instead. "Just be your usual infuriatingly charming self."

Jim chuckles. "Yeah, okay. I guess I'll see you after, maybe."

"Yeah," McCoy says, and Jim goes to leave. "Hey, Jim?"

Jim turns.

"Just…remember what I told you. What I see."

Jim's face goes blank and Bones thinks, oh shit, I just fucked that up but good, but then Jim smiles, a shy, soft smile so different from his usual shit-eating grin.

"Thanks," he says quietly, and disappears out the door.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jim kills it.

He's serious when he needs to be, funny when he can be and charismatic the whole time, and by the time he's done the admiralty and the audience are enchanted by that Jim Kirk charm. Bones watches on the live feed in between patients and has to fight to keep the smile off his face. He's watching Jim hand-shake his way through the crowd when Dr. Boyce comes around the corner and stands next to him. "He's something else, isn't he?" Boyce observes.

You have no idea. "Yes, sir".

"All quiet here?" McCoy nods, and Boyce claps him on the shoulder. "Then take off, McCoy. You've done the work of three men in the last few weeks. Go try and catch up on some sleep."

Boyce doesn't have to ask twice. McCoy thanks his boss and is running down the steps of the hospital before Boyce can change his mind. He cuts across campus towards the pavilion where the ceremony is being held and is weaving his way through the crowd when he hears, "Bones!"

He turns and there's Kirk in his dress greys. "Jim!"

"You saw it?"

"I watched on the feed at the hospital." He claps Jim on the shoulder and squeezes. "You did good, kid."

Jim beams. "Listen, Bones –"

"Cadet Kirk!" Admiral Archer's booming voice carries across the pavilion.

"Shit," Kirk says under his breath. "Listen, I have to attend this ceremony dinner now. " Kirk's eyes get a funny look, nervous and hopeful and something else. "You gonna be around later?"

McCoy feels a funny flutter in his stomach himself. "Yeah, I'll be home."

"Cadet!"

Jim waves in Archer's direction then turns back to Bones. "It might be late."

"That's fine," McCoy answers, too quickly, and tries to joke to make up for it. "See what kind of liquor you can steal me from this dinner."

Kirk's face lights up. "Challenge accepted," he proclaims, and takes off.

"No – Jim – I was kidding!" McCoy yells after him. "Oh, for Christ's sake."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jim's true to his word; it's late when he arrives, but he's carrying a full bottle of top-shelf bourbon, which he thrusts in McCoy's face as soon as he walks in the door.

"Holy shit, Jim, nice. But how in the hell did you get this – you know what, I don't care. Gift horses and all that."

Kirk laughs. "I knew I'd win you over to my side eventually, Bones."

McCoy huffs, but can't bring himself to be mad, not when he uncaps the bottle and takes a sniff. "Oh, yeah, that's the good stuff."

Jim quirks an eyebrow up. "Geez, Bones. Do I need to leave you two alone?"

McCoy waves a hand in a be quiet gesture. "I'm having a moment, Jim. Don't kill it." Kirk rolls his eyes but accepts the glass McCoy slides his way.

"Oh. That is the good stuff."

Bones hums in response, and settles himself into his armchair. Jim flops onto the couch, careful to keep his glass steady, and they sit there for some time in silence. When McCoy's glass is empty, he turns to Jim. "How was the dinner?"

Kirk shrugs. "It was fine. Dry chicken, shaking hands. Old people telling me just how much I look like my dad."

Bones winces. Kirk doesn't seem to notice.

"Barnett had a field day introducing me, like he had anything to do with me being here. Pike ran as much interference as he could, but there were only so many times he could pretend to need me somewhere else."

For not the first time, McCoy feels a twinge of heartfelt appreciation for Chris Pike. "Barnett's a snake oil salesman," he spits. "Pulling out the horse and pony show for donors. Shouldn't be dragging you into it."

"It is what it is." Kirk spins his empty glass in his hands before setting it down on the coffee table. "Listen, Bones."

McCoy senses a shift in the conversation, and sits up a little straighter. Kirk looks at his hands, rubs them together.

"The dinner. The speech. I couldn't have done it. Not – not without your help. Without what you said."

Bones feels a blush coming up his cheeks and silently curses himself for acting like a moony teenager. "You could have done it, Jim. You would have been fine."

"No, I couldn't have." His voice is serious and calm, with none of the normal bravado or arrogance, and it catches Bones off-guard. He looks at Bones. "When you found me. In my room. I was writing my resignation letter in my head."

"What?" Bones almost drops his empty glass. He can't believe it, that Jim would give up the Academy, give up his starship, give up space. "No. You're joking."

"No joke, Bones. I was done." Jim draws his legs up and wraps his arms around his knees. "Between Barnett and the ceremony and the looks I get every day – I act like I don't notice it, but I hear the whispers, I know what other cadets are saying – I was ready to run. I felt…haunted. Like the ghost of my father was following me everywhere I went."

Jesus. Bones knew that Jim wasn't stupid, that he knew there were some bitter cadets who soothed their egos by claiming Jim was there because of nepotism, but he had never imagine Jim felt it so deeply, and he feels stupid for ever assuming he knew what Jim was feeling. "Jim, I'm sorry, if I had known -"

Kirk cuts him off with a wave. "Bones, don't. It's not – normally, it's not anything, I can deal with it fine. I knew from a very young age that my mom was never around because all she saw in me was my dad. But then the speech…" he trails off. "It was just a lot."

Bones huffs. "That's the polite way to say it." Jim cracks a small smile.

"Yeah, well. I had one foot out the door when you showed up. So…thank you."

McCoy doesn't really know what to say. "I meant it," he decides on. "I meant what I said."

Jim's smile is sweet and affectionate and vulnerable and Bones feels helpless against it. "I know. I also know you wouldn't lie to me. It's the only reason I could start to believe what you said."

Bones swallows, tries to think of something snarky to say, something to quell the feeling stirring in his gut.

"Bones?"

"Yeah?" he manages.

Jim presses his hands to his thighs. "I'm going to kiss you now. Not because of the last two weeks, not because of the speech and my emotions or anything else but because I want to. Okay?"

Bones breathes out a steady breath, tries to get his heartbeat under control. "Yeah. Okay." He flexes his fingers, like he does before surgery. "Yeah, I want you to."

Jim nods, and stands. Bones goes to stand, but Jim pushes his shoulder back down, and instead slides into McCoy's lap, his legs straddling Bones's hips. Bones inhales sharply at the contact, his hands coming to squeeze at Jim's hips. Kirk takes this as the encouragement it is and slides closer, and when their hips and groins bump they both gasp. Jim strokes McCoy's arms, shoulders, then wraps his hands into McCoy's hair and gives a small tug.

"Oh, fuck," Bones gasps out, and Kirk grins. McCoy presses Kirk towards him until they are chest to chest. "God damn it, Jim, kiss me."

"Anything for you, Bones," Jim whispers, and lowers his mouth to McCoy's. The kiss is deep and possessive and hot, with no hesitation, no fear, and Bones feels like he could drown in it and he wouldn't mind. Kirk licks at his lips and Bones opens for him, sucks on his tongue. Kirk moans and the sound sparks in McCoy's ears, and he takes control of the kiss, palming the back of Kirk's head so he could angle him a little more and taste the inside of his mouth. Jim melts into it, lets Bones take what he wants, before he pops off with a gasp.

"More," he manages. "I want to feel more of you." Bones pulls him back down, kisses his mouth, his chin; mouths at his Adam's apple and the collar of his jacket.

"Get this damn thing off," he growls, and yanks down the zipper of the dress uniform. Kirk pulls his arms out, tosses it to the side, and pulls off the black shirt underneath. McCoy's hands chase up his chest, his back and he presses wet kisses along Jim's shoulders and neck.

"Now yours," Jim commands, and Bones leans forward enough for Jim to yank his t-shirt up and over his head. Jim smooths his hair back down, then licks a line down his jaw and neck, and bites. McCoy yelps and twitches, and the sudden movement forces their hips together.

"Yes –"

"Oh, fuck –"

Jim huffs out a laugh at their eloquence, then squeaks in surprise as McCoy takes advantage of the distraction to suck on a hard nipple. "Bones," he whines, and McCoy slides his tongue across his sternum to the other side. Jim's hand massages hard at Bones's neck, and he moans.

McCoy's already barefoot, but Kirk's in his polished boots – actually, McCoy's polished boots, which Kirk had stolen some time ago and never returned – so he reaches around and shoves them and his socks off Kirk's feet. Kirk's hand in his hair tugs his head up and there's that feeling of heaven again as Kirk kisses him hard.

"Bed," he manages to gasp out. "Bed, now."

He groans when Kirk pulls away, immediately missing his warmth, his weight, but then Kirk pulls him up and they're chest to chest again. Jim's hands are at his waist, slipping inside the edge of his old sleep paints, tickling at his hip bones. McCoy pops the button on Kirk's dress pants and slides the zipper down, slipping inside to palm the hardness there. Kirk moans his name, loud, and Bones strokes.

"Fuck, wait," Jim gasps, grabbing at McCoy's wrist. "As much as I admire your – ah, shit – your enthusiasm, I would like to last long then two minutes for our first time together." Bones grins but stills his hand.

"Worried about your reputation?" he teases.

"Fuck my reputation." He shoves Bones back on the bed. "I've waiting far too long for this for it to be over that fast."

The thought of Jim, alone in his room, fantasizing about them together makes McCoy's blood surge, and he grabs Kirk by his waist band and hauls him over to stand between his legs. "You've thought about this?" he asks, voice husky. "You've touched yourself thinking about this?"

"Yes," Jim pants. "Yes. All the time. In my room. In the shower." He pauses and tilts his head. "Over there."

Bones looks towards his couch - his couch, where Jim has spent so many nights when he's been trashed or too tired to head home - and then slowly back at Kirk, who's looking down with half-lidded eyes and the slightest smirk on his lips. McCoy's grip on Jim's pants tightens and he pulls down just a fraction, revealing a sharp hip bone. "While I was here? While I was sleeping?"

Jim bites his lip and nods, his gaze steady. "Or in the shower." His smirk grows a little. "And the one time you fell asleep next to me watching that holovid."

"Son of a bitch," McCoy breathes out slowly. His heart is pounding in his chest so hard he feels it might drum its way out. "Jesus, Jim."

Kirk waits.

Then McCoy looks up again, and Kirk can't help the gasp at the feral look in his eye. McCoy's grip loosens and he leans back on his elbows. "Show me."

Kirk sways unsteady on his feet. "What?"

"Show me. What you did while I was sleeping." McCoy's voice is steady but his body is tense, practically vibrating. "I want to see you."

"Fuck, Bones," Jim hisses. The thought's almost too good but Jim Kirk has never turned down a challenge before, and he isn't about to start now. Two can play at this game, he thinks, and ghosts a hand over his abs, stroking at his hip bone. Then he slides his hand down, slowly, watches McCoy's breathing get faster and more erratic as he frees himself from his clothes and wraps a hand around the base. He strokes once, twice, keeping a slow pace. "Is this what you wanted to see?" he asks, and McCoy's hands dig into the sheets so hard he's afraid he's going to have to request new ones. "I would wait for you to fall asleep, and I would think about kissing you, touching you. I'd think about your mouth, how it would feel wrapped around my dick." He strokes harder, faster. "Did you think about that, Bones? Think about me?"

He's been trying to keep in control but something in McCoy breaks and he groans out a yes as he pushes up and wraps one hand around Jim's hip, the other knocking Jim's fingers away to wrap around him. Jim's hips snap forward and he moans something unintelligible.

"I thought about it all the time," Bones breathes into Jim's abs, mouthing at his belly button. "What you felt like. What you tasted like." Jim whimpers, and his hand weaves into Bones's hair, holding him close. Then Bones dips down and takes him in his mouth and Jim can't help the shout that comes out as he grasps for purchase on the headboard next to him.

"Oh, fuck, Bones, so fucking good," he pants, and McCoy's fingers dig deeper into Kirk's hip. It's perfect, the feeling of his mouth, so wet and hot, and Jim feels his orgasm building from the base of his spine. "Bones," he warns, pulling at his hair, but Bones just pulls him closer and then Jim is coming, his knees buckling and his visioning going white. Somehow McCoy steers him and he hits the bed on his back with a bounce. "Holy fuck," he wheezes.

"You okay there?" Bones teases, but his voice is tight and Jim realizes -

"Your turn," he whispers, and sits up and straddles McCoy's hips in fluid motion. Bones yelps at the sudden movement but Kirk cuts it off with a kiss, swallowing the sound and the moan that follows it. He slithers down McCoy's body, mouth leaving wet kisses all the way down, across his neck and check and that trim stomach. He pulls down Bones's pants and underwear and licks right below the hipbone in a long line, breathing in deep the scent there. Bones whimpers, his hips rocking, so Jim does it again, this time pinning Bones down to the bed.

"Jim." It's a desperate sound. "Jim, darlin', please."

That darlin' does something to Jim that he doesn't expect, and he buries his face in the crease between leg and hip for a second to calm himself. Bones's hand slides through his hair and strokes gently, and Jim looks up to see Bones gazing down with a soft smile, relaxed and loving. Jim doesn't know what to think, what to feel about that, so he does what he knows, and takes Bones in his hand, in his mouth. The hand is his hair tightens and Bones moans out encouragement, telling Jim it's good, it's perfect, so Jim drops down, relaxing his throat to take Bones all the way in.

McCoy comes with a shout, and Jim rides it out, gently sucking, until Bones deflates on the bed, utterly spent. "Damn it, Jim," he slurs, and Kirk snickers as he drags himself up on to the bed and flops down with a satisfied sigh.

"Why haven't we done this before?" he wonders, and Bones snickers, then gets quiet.

"Jim?"

"Hmmm?" Kirk responds.

"What are we doing?"

Kirk sighs, because he knows they need to talk about it but he's too tired, too fuck-stupid to do it now, so he just says, "we're going to sleep, Bones."

"Jim -"

"I know, Bones," Jim cuts him off. "Tomorrow, I promise. But for now..." He drags the blankets down, McCoy shifting to lay with him properly. "We sleep."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The alarm goes off too soon for McCoy's tastes. Way too soon, when Jim is wrapped so securely around his back, legs tangled up in his.

The alarm goes off again, and he feels Jim start to stir.

"Do you not know how to turn that off?" Kirk mumbles. "Because I could teach you."

Bones smacks the alarm and glares at Kirk. "Better?"

"Much." Jim scratches his nose. Now face to face, he seems quiet, shy. "Hi."

"Hey," Bones says. He's nervous all of a sudden, and he doesn't like that Kirk is looking at him so...tentatively. "I - uh - morning breath." He gestures towards the bathroom. "I'll be right back."

"Oh - sure." Jim watches Bones walk away and sighs. This is why they hadn't done this before, because taking the one stable relationship in one's life and evocably - albeit pleasurable - altering it was not the more logical move. Especially when the participants were as, well, fucked up as Jim and Bones. Two miserable sons of bitches who would sooner jump off a cliff than admit their true feelings.

Although, that wasn't really true anymore. Bones had opened up to him, had given him the strength to get through the speech and jealous cadets and a hall full of Starfleet officers who wanted nothing more than to call him George.

And if there was one thing Jim Kirk hated, it was not being even with someone.

McCoy was washing his face when Jim slipped into the bathroom, slipped his arms around Bones's waist. "Hey," Bones said in surprise.

"Hey." Jim cleared his throat, tried to calm his pounding heart. Come on, Jim, he thought to himself. Since when could he not talk to Bones. He felt Bones start to tense up under his chin.

If he couldn't figure out the words himself, he would have to borrow from someone else. He looks over Bones's shoulder into the mirror, in those hazel eyes, and speaks.

"One man in a thousand, Soloman says,

Will stick more than a brother.

And it's worth while seeking him half your days

If you find him before the other."

Those hazel eyes crinkled in confusion. "Jim?"

"Nine hundred and ninety-nine depend

On what the world sees in you,

But the Thousandth man will stand your friend

With the whole round world agin you.

'Tis neither promise nor prayer nor show

Will settle the finding for 'ee.

Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em go

By your looks, or your acts, or your glory.

But if he find you and you find him,

The rest of the world don't matter;

For the Thousandth man will sink or swim

With you in any water."

"Jim Kirk, are you - " he was trying to keep his voice light, but his eyes were misty, giving him away, "are you reciting poetry to me?"

"You never asked me what I see in you," Jim whispers, and Bones grabs his hand, holds it tight. "You're my thousandth man, Bones, and I'm yours. We always will be."

"Damn it, Jim - " and then Bones is kissing him, pulling him tight, and Kirk leans into him. He feels weightless, limitless, wrapped up in Bones like this. Bones pulls back and his cheeks are shiny with tears. Jim doesn't care, because his are, too. "We're turning into a couple of weepers," Bones jokes weakly, and Jim laughs.

"Yeah, well, I won't tell anybody if you don't."

Bones nods his agreement and kisses Jim again, softer this time.

"Jim?"

"Hmmm?"

"When I told you, you were the only reason I'd ever go in to the black?"

"Yeah?"

Bones buries his face in Jim's neck, as if he can protect himself by hiding. "It's because I love you," he whispers in Jim's ear, and Jim has to close his eyes against the tears. He tugs Bones's face up, forces him to look him in the eye.

"I love you, too, Bones," he says, and when McCoy's face lights up he has to grin. "I think I have from the beginning." He pauses. "Well, maybe not the beginning. After the part where you threw up on my shoes."

"Hey, I warned you that might happen."

"And I became your friend anyway," Jim ponders.

"Yeah, well." Bones pulls him close again. "Look at us now."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two years later.

It was controlled chaos on board, and Kirk loves it. This is it: in an hour, they'll ship out for five years in deep space aboard the Enterprise, his Enterprise, with his crew, Spock and Uhura, Scotty and Sulu and Chekov, and Bones.

Bones, who looks pinched and annoyed and generally malcontent as he moves around the Medbay, doing one last inventory. Bones, who would never have considered a year in space, let alone five, had it not been for Jim.

"You excited?" Jim teases, and McCoy glares at him out of the corner of his eye. Jim follows him into the supply room.

"For what? Five years on this tin can, with you in charge? Saints preserve us."

"Nah, that's what I have you for." McCoy huffs. "I'm serious, Bones." Jim pulls the PADD out of his hands and sets it to the side, pulls Bones in close. "One man in a thousand, Soloman says," he whispers in his ear, "will stick more than a brother."

He can feel McCoy's smile against his cheek. "And it's worth while seeking him half your days if you find him before the other," Bones finishes, and Jim kisses him.

"You still my thousandth man, Bones?"

"Always, darlin'," and Jim feels the universe open before him. "Always."