A/N: ideas and inspiration from reading a shit load of scotty slash fics.
also, this is my first star trek fic and im kinda a month into the show (newbie), so no flames if i got something wrong. like.. at all.
but all in all, i hope this isn't too shitty.
ahahahahaha ouch.
Seated along his desk's rolling chair - bare save the towel wrapped tightly along his waist - was none other than our CMO, busy clipping away at his toenails. He had his head lifted slightly, sitting in an indian manner. If it weren't for the endless extent of towels in the household, the sight of him with a towel wrapped along his head and waist would seem a waist and, more or less, extra to clean. But this wasn't a first concern for the southern male. His main concern was finishing up his nightly rituals and getting some well deserved sleep.
Saving lives and treating minor injuries all day while filling out paperwork, having life risking situations go on, and arguing with idiots don't come off too easy. But somehow, McCoy always finds a way to dealing with everything. Maybe that's what makes him who is.
Confined in wandering thoughts, Leonard hadn't noticed - or even heard - the door to his room slide open, still occupied with his nails. It was only when he heard a voice did he notice.
"Well." A thick accent leaked from the voice, nearly startling the poor doctor out of the very chair. "T'ain't this interestin?"
"Jesus Christ, Scott." He hissed between his teeth, having the fortune of having the clippers away from his toes. "Mind at least knockin'?"
The Scotsman laughed, "Sorry, Sir"
"Leonard, please. I'm off duty." he instantly gestured his hand with the clippers to his bed, "Take a seat, kid." Scotty was about to object but thought it was better not to start up an argument from a tired doctor.
"So," came the voice of McCoy, going back to working on his nails "what brings ya to my humble obode?" His eyes glanced up for a mere second, only to land back to his feet, trying to finish up but multitasking altogether. "And it better not be about work. I'm off duty and believe me, kid, you don't want me to ruin my nightly rituals with some petty shift work." He rambled, gesturing his free hand, stilling clipping.
"Nae, it's uh-" Scotty paused, trying to find the right words, "Uhm, Hmm-" McCoy's eyes slowly left his feet, eyeing the Scotsman. "Uh?" he mimicked the latter's stuttering, raising a trademark brow.
"It's quite..personal?" Scotty sounded as though he wasn't even sure of himself at all. Leonard stared at the engineer with confusion, wondering what possibly he would have to say.
"Personal-?" And before he could question, he found himself being handed a colored computer drive.
"Personal." Scotty confirmed, nodding with a faint, sheepish smile. And for a slight moment, McCoy could swear he saw a tinge of red appear along the other man's cheeks. "Well, I should be off. Needn't mess yer ritual o' yers up." He gave another suspicious, sheepish smile and patted his own leg. He stood, almost walking a bit too quickly to leave the room.
When gone, the doctor found himself staring at the door, puzzled. He gripped the drive in one hand, the other let the clippers hover near his big toe. Still sitting in indian style, he leaned to place the clippers along the table, only to stare at the drive in hand.
"Personal?"
McCoy thought it was best to wait to open the drive in the morning, not wanting to stay up any longer than he already had. He shouldn't waste his needed sleep with the curiosity. Even if it did tempt him before he drifted off to deep sleep.
It wasn't until mid-shift that day did he realized he hadn't read the letter in the drive. He ignored the thoughts of it being crucial because he remembered Scotty just mentioning personal. He shrugged off the thoughts, trying his best to keep his mind on work related thoughts. Making it so he forgot the whole drive altogether.
"So, did ye read mae letter?" McCoy turned his head, PADD in hand. He caught sight of the Scot, a smile along his face. It seemed more brightened than usual.
"Hmm?" His mind was elsewhere when asked, brow raised. Scotty knitted his brows, giving the other a look that should've made the CMO understand.
"I'm sorry?" McCoy laughed, shaking his head. The doctor noticed Scotty's expression change from that bright smile to a kinda hurt look. It was apparent that whatever he didn't catch onto hurt the small engineer.
"Nevermind I said anythin', doc."
"Scotty?" Before he could reach a hand out, the man had walked out of range in a quick pace.
It dawned on him quickly what the other was asking.
Shit.
His mind was elsewhere, and with all this work, who could blame him? He better as well go see whatever the contents on that drive was. It seemed - from the reaction just displayed - it might as well be crucial.
Tossing meaningless items to the side, the doctor searched for the colored, computer drive. He couldn't have put it too far, right? He searched for about 5 minutes straight when he thought he had given up. That was until he sat upon his bed, feeling something under the covers.
"Of course." he said to himself. He managed to get within the covers, retrieving said drive. And after getting his monitor set, he let himself slip the drive in. A document popped up, in which he instantly started to read the contents.
Scotty didn't seem himself, seated in his desk with blank stare that settled along the engine room's wall. His mind wandered to the thought that McCoy could might just hate him now. That Scotty, here, was a freak and now it would seem awkward between the two.
Why'd he think this would work? It was stupid. Utterly Stupid.
He was stupid.
A stupid, ugly, little engineer that had no mind whatsoever. He buried his face in his hands, wanting to scream at himself.
"Idiot." He muttered to himself, heaving in a deep breath. Only to have it hitched at a touch to the shoulder.
"Who ya callin' an idiot, kid?" He slowly glanced up, a surprised look instantly formed along his face. "Gotcha back for startlin' me the night before." McCoy joked, with a soft laugh. He pulled softly at the Scot's shoulder to turn him in his direction to get a good look at the man.
For once in the Scot's life, he was silent, having no words to express. The doctor leaned near the other, staring at the man's face for what seemed an eternity. McCoy brought his free hand to the Scot's face, placing a long strand of hair into it's proper place that happened to fell into the Scot's face.
"Nearly forgot to read that letter of yours," he moved even more closer, "sorry if it hurt you. Blame this sorry memory of mine." Scotty breathed in, as if he were to say a comment to what was said but was instantly halted by a luscious pair of lips placed against his own. Though he wasn't complaining he got interrupted.
He physically responded by bringing his hands up to wrap along McCoy's neck, drawing him nearer. They kiss deepened, earning a soft gasp from Scotty. He hated to feel it end, as McCoy's lips left his.
"Though I do have to admit, it's sad you couldn't just tell me face to face." He rubbed the Scotsman's cheek with his thumb, chuckling.
