Jim Kirk has always been… handsy. That was a truth Leonard found out the same day he found out the kid wasn't squeamish about puke. Handshakes and shoulder slaps and the odd little tight grip of the upper arm were all par for the course with Jim. And Leonard, being a Good Ol' Southern Boy himself was quite used to it.
As they moved through the academy together, Leonard H. McCoy started to notice Jim's touches began to linger. They also began to rove.
Nowhere inappropriate-no, but somehow the friendly clap on his back had become a few seconds longer and fell midway down his spine. Somehow the punch to his shoulder was morphing into gentle fingers wrapping around his elbow. Somehow Jim's hands found their way to his own more often, or Jim would for no reason lean over and give an affectionate rub of Leonard's knee.
It happened slowly too. Slowly enough for Leonard to realize that he was slowly becoming irrevocably 'Bones' now. And the realization that 'Bones' belonged to Jim was a startling one to say the least, but he warmed up to it quick enough.
Every time Jim stroked his arm or rubbed his back or squeezed his thigh, Leonard smiled to himself. As slow as the older country doctor was, Jim seemed to be coming to the realization even slower. Soon, Leonard was elongating the touches as well. Letting their tightly gripped hands stay together longer than a few breaths, leaning into Jim's presence, and letting his own large hand drift down Jim's neck after affectionately rubbing the younger man's hair were Leonard's personal ways of letting Jim know that 'Bones' was alright with the path their lives were taking.
Then one night, 'Bones' came up with a particularly dry and piercing comment about one of their professors and Jim laughed so hard he could barely straighten up. Once he'd caught his breath, Jim clapped his hands to the side of Leonard's face and leaned his forehead against his science blues.
They stayed like that a few seconds, Jim's palms hot on Leonard's stubble covered cheeks, then Leonard felt Jim shiver. Blue and hazel green eyes met and held gazes, lungs stilled, and the only sound in the room was the sound of their hearts filling their ears.
"…Bones?" Jim sounded young and afraid.
Leonard brought his own hands up to Jim's shoulders, running them down those strong gold covered limbs until his fingers brushed over Jim's on his cheeks, "…Well?
You gonna kiss me or not?" he asked, his voice low and gruff.
"I don't know if I can," Jim's eyes were full of uncertainty. Uncertainty about his hands on Leonard's face, uncertainty about the rough fingers rubbing gently atop his. Uncertainty about why he was cradling his best friends face and why his own face was slowly drifting closer.
Leonard smiled, and Jim could feel the twitch of his jaw as he kept in a laugh, "Never thought I'd see the day James Tiberius Kirk was afraid,"
"I'm n-not afraid," It would have been convincing too, if not for the stutter in his voice.
"All I've got left is my Bones, Jim, but you're welcome to them if you want," Leonard stroked his thumbs across the backs of Jim's hands, idly, as if Jim's answer wasn't all the held his heart together.
"Bones, I'm just a fuck up…" Jim started, then swallowed the rest of his words at Bones' glare, "I…"
Finally, after what seemed like an hour, Jim leaned all the way against Leonard, pressing his lips to a dry chapped mouth, feeling his nose bump into Leonard's, and trying to tamp down the incredible swirl of emotions in the pit of his stomach.
When they parted, Bones quirked his lips as his hands slid down to pull Jim into an even closer hug, "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"
Jim laughed, wrapping his arms around his Bones's torso, and buried his face into the older man's neck, "Shuddup…" When Bones laughed, he muttered into his aftershave scented skin, "I may throw up on you,"