"Bones!"
Leonard has been expecting that since about, well…that morning when Barnett had sent an Academy wide notice prohibiting pranks of any sort and promising that anyone caught participating in any sort of practical joke would be punished severely. Really, Leonard had thought Jim would check his messages earlier, or at least would have been privy to it in the staff meeting. Apparently not.
"Did you actually tattle to Chris?" he demands over their communicators. Leonard's so glad he had the forsight to take this comm in his office. He can just imagine how this conversation will go if Jim just used the word 'tattle'. "Jesus! It was a prank! We did them all the time when we were cadets."
The doctor sighs, and leans against his desk, holding his communicater in front of him. "Our pranks weren't potentially fatal to anyone, Jim. What these kids did could have seriously injured you." His lips tighten just at the thought and he seriously, considers tacking on 'the fuckers are lucky I didn't do a DNA search of the room.' Instead, he says, "If pranks are devolving to this level, there should be repercussions."
"So, you tattled to Christopher fucking Pike! The man's been a mother hen ever since we hit dirtside and you gave him ammunition? I can barely convince him to let me cut my own food!" Jim's voice shrieks—Leonard will never tell a living soul—through his communicator. "Bones, it's really sweet in its own twisted way, but could you let me handle my problems on my own from now on?"
Leonard isn't unaffected by the pleading tone in Jim's voice, but he won't be swayed on this. "Jim, I'm not trying to be your parent, but as a concerned bystander I couldn't just let this go without bringing attention to it. If you don't like it, bring attention to it yourself."
"You are so lucky we're fucking," Jim grouses, and Leonard spares a thought to hope that Jim is at least in his office.
But then his door opens, and one of his interns has this mortified look on his face. "Love you too, darlin'. Gotta go."
He clicks his communicator shut to the sounds of, "Bones, I'm not…"
Leonard returns home late that night and all the lights are off despite the fact that he can hear Jim at his console in the bedroom. There's an eery white glow coming from beneath the shut door, but Leonard bets that the bedroom lights are off as well. He's long since become used to this. At first, Jim used to order the lights on out of habit, but it fell to the wayside because it never really makes a difference to him. So now, on nights where Leonard gets home late, he always given a taste of what Jim lives in.
Darkness.
At least when he says, "Computer, lights fifty percent."
There's a slight whir throughout the apartment, and Jim hears it easily.
"Bones?" he calls from the bedroom. A few seconds and the dull sounds of footstep, then their door whooshes open. Jim pokes his head out of the door, and there's a brief flash of happiness before he covers it up with irritation, which if Leonard knows Jim is completely fake.
The doctor smiles and Jim's would-be scowl. "You still poutin'?" he asks, putting in a little more twang because he has an eighty percent success rate with his southern drawl. Okay, so that's really only due to the fact that they forget they're arguing, but an argument where Jim doesn't win is his by default. He makes his way toward their bedroom.
Jim steps completely out, and his echo-location is getting ridiculously good, because he only has to put his hand out at the last second to make sure Leonard is where he's supposed to be. "I wasn't pouting, Bones. I was expressing my displeasure at your actions."
Leonard smiles. "You been talking to Spock again?" he asks with a lift of his brow.
By the smile, Jim knows about the brow-lift. "He called just after you hung up one me. Which by the way, we aren't done with that…"
Leonard quickly and effectively cuts the conversation short by pressing his lips to the admiral's. Obviously, they were done with that argument because Jim doesn't even give a hint of protest. Instead, he brings his hands up to cup Leonard's face, holding him steady as he takes over the kiss, thrusting his tongue into Leonard's mouth, stepping further into his space.
"You're still in trouble," he breathes as he pushes Leonard against the wall, hands easily finding the zip of his jacket.
Leonard smiles, pulling the admiral's shirt off over his head and clearly resisting the urge to run his hands through Jim's already thoroughly mussed hair. "Y'gonna make me sleep on the couch?"
He dips his head to nibble and bite at Jim's jaw and throat and his answer is a moaned, "God, no. That's more of a punishment to myself than anything." Jim's already pulling at his belt with practiced hands that only fumble with the buckle.
Leonard doesn't bother to correct his assumptions. Some things are better left not feeding Jim's ego.
"I won't promise not to do it a-again," he stutters at the end as Jim has finally undone his pants. His head falls against the wall, but he continues to watch Jim through slitted eyes.
Jim just smirks, leaning in carefully to nuzzle Leonard's throat.
"You wouldn't be you if you did."