Title: Brightest Hue

Author: Tearsofamiko

Character(s): Jim Kirk / Leonard McCoy

Rating: G

Disclaimer: I own nothing about Star Trek (2009), its characters or plotlines, including any recognizable dialogue.

Summary: Summer of Love challenge prompt on jim_and_bones: "Lying in the summer sun, watching the sun go down, in a hammock :)" Sequel to Hotter'n Blue Blazes

.:::.

It's cooler now, sun dipping lower in the sky as crickets and frogs add their song to the cicada chorus. They're back in the hammock, shirtless and sated, sweat cooling as the sky turns a deep lavender, the horizon burning under the weight of the setting sun. Leonard's paying more attention to the sounds of the 'cars on the road now, expecting Jocelyn to drive up any minute with Joanna sleepy and smiling in the backseat. Until then, though, he's content to stay here in the hammock, feet tangled with Jim's as they watch the changing colors in the sky.

The chime of the phone echoes out of the house and Jim reluctantly pulls out of Len's embrace, carefully swinging his feet to the ground. He jogs across the yard and up the porch steps, screen door slamming as Len stretches. He focuses on the delicious burn in his muscles as he listens to the faint murmur of Jim's voice, feels the barest hint of goosebumps break out over his skin as a slight breeze stirs the sticky-stagnant air. His shirt's on the ground not three feet away and he's considering retrieving it when the screen door slams again and Jim's walking back to the hammock, gilded in the xanthous light.

"Joce says Jo fell asleep at dinner, so she's gonna spend the night with them, then come back over in the morning," Jim informs him as he climbs back into the hammock and tucks himself up against Leonard's side. They tangle themselves up again, Jim's legs tucked between and over Len's, Len's arm wrapped tight around Jim's shoulders, and Jim goes boneless against Len's side with a deep sigh. Len smiles and presses a kiss to the top of Jim's head, shifting his shoulders as he settles back.

The hammock creaks occasionally, swaying just slightly with their breathing, a hint of a breeze occasionally ruffling the leaves overhead, the soft rustling mixing and mingling with the sounds of crickets and frogs. It's gloriously comfortable now, the heat dissipating just enough that they don't mind skin against skin too terribly. Len's always loved Georgia, even after the fallout of his divorce from Jocelyn, but he's never felt so completely himself as he does now, wrapped around his best friend and lover, earthbound and watching the sun fall gradually closer to the horizon.

"I really do like it here," Jim says, voice soft and almost reverent, as warm as the lingering sunlight.

"Yeah, I know, Jim," Leonard sighs contently.

"'m glad I came," Jim continues, shifting around until he can rest his chin on Len's chest, soft smile touching his lips and lighting his eyes. Len reaches up and traces one golden eyebrow, feeling warm skin and the vital energy thrumming just below. Jim blinks sleepily at him, eyelids falling to half-mast, dragging himself up until his breath fans across Leonard's face.

Len leans up and kisses one eyelid, then the other, feels them flutter under his lips. He brushes his mouth over both slightly sunburned cheeks, tasting sweat and happiness, nuzzles the skin under Jim's left ear, dips his tongue into the corner of Jim's smile and licks his way into Jim's mouth, sweet and warm as the night air filtering gently across the McCoy lands. He pulls away as the light around them intensifies, brightens and darkens at the same time in fiery hues of red and orange, a clear strip of hot, neon pink hovering at the edge of the conflagration. Jim's breath hitches and he lays his head against Len's shoulder, one graceful, long-fingered hand falling lax over Len's heart.

"I'm glad you came, too," Len whispers, lacing his fingers with Jim's as the sky ignites and burns over and around them, the sun falling below the horizon with one last shift in color.

Cicadas sing and the hammock creaks and sways, cradling them in the darkening light.