Jim had been on many dates before and during his time at the Academy. Though, perhaps "dates" isn't the proper term for it. Getting drunk and then going back to someone's apartment to have sex, before sneaking out in the early morning wasn't really a date. Jim's dates were nothing at all like in the movies, where a couple would go out for a nice romantic, candle-lit dinner and then simply curl up and cuddle on a couch.
Jim Kirk wasn't one to just cuddle.
It was just after exams when Bones had invited Jim out for a drink in an off-campus pub. Jim had been hesitant to accept, not entirely sure what had made Bones ask him of all people. Maybe because it was the doctor wasn't exactly close with many other people. Sure, there were some other people he spoke to, but none knew the man as well as Jim did. Maybe that's why Jim found himself sitting at the bar beside Bones, holding a bottle of beer in his hands. Someone had to make sure the old man didn't drink too much, right?
"How do you think you did?" He asked suddenly, resting against the bar with a tilted head. Bones glanced up from his drink long enough to shrug before looking down again.
"Couldn't tell ya to save my life. Autopsies are difficult, especially when the people died from things that shouldn't even exist, never mind be common in space."
Jim laughed, having almost completely forgotten that Bones was a hypochondriac, and a large one at that. The doctor glared at him as he finished his giggling, shaking his head with a low muttering. Jim apologized quickly and gestured for the man to continue, leaning against the bar with a look of over-exaggerated interest. Bones sighed and took a sip from his own bottle to try and jog his thoughts before continuing.
"I mean, it could seem like a common cold. Then two days later you're collapsed in a hallway choking on your own blood, completely unable to move or call for help." Jim wrinkled his nose slightly at the image, but knew exactly what Bones had been talking about. All cadets had to learn the basics of diseases so that they knew what to look for—and when to panic.
"So that's what you had?" He asked, shaking himself free of the rather grotesque images of puddles of blood and stiff bodies.
"I wish." Bones snorted, brushing a hand through his hair and letting out a heavy sigh. "Looked like natural causes. Then, ya cut into the body and the person's insides explode over your face." Even at the mention of what had happened, Bones had gone white and was looking unsteady in his seat. Jim reached over and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder with a smirk.
"Hey, come on Bones...no throwing up. You aren't even drunk yet." Despite the slight condescending tone Jim had used, Bones chuckled and nodded. After giving the doctor a moment to recover, Jim leaned back and lifted the bottle to his lips. "So, you were saying?"
And so it went on, each of the men trying to outdo the other with horror stories from their exams. Bones won—of course—but neither were really keeping track of how many people had thrown up or passed out. By the end of the night, Jim had had several bottles of beer and one or two shots that had helped him through Bones' descriptions of several of the bodies he had gone through during his diagnosis and autopsies. The pair stumbled out into the street, Jim leaning heavily against Bones' shoulder and grinning like a child. The younger man was clearly unable to hold his alcohol as well as the Southern man holding him up. They slowly began to make their way back to the campus, Bones almost having to carry Jim up the set of stairs that led to the courtyard outside of their dorm.
"Ya know Bonesy..." Jim started once they entered their room, his words slightly slurred from the effects of the alcohol. "You're not that bad of a person."
"I was bad to begin with?" Bones asked with a puzzled frown. Jim chuckled and nodded, looking up with a smile.
"You're always so...grumpy. 'n angry."
"Astute observation Jim."
"But you're actually pretty nice...when you don't have a stick up your ass." Jim punctuated his last word with a poke to the center of Bones' chest. The doctor huffed and shook his head, maneuvering Jim to the bed. As he tipped the younger man over, Jim threw his arms around his neck and pulled Bones down with him. They landed in a slightly tangled heap, Bones wiggling to get free amidst Jim's hysterical laughter.
"Get yer damn drunken mitts off me!" Bones snapped, finally going limp as Jim's grip tightened. The younger man quickly shook his head, grinning brightly up at the doctor.
"But you're warm." He hummed, squirming until they were lying side by side. Once they were settled, Jim curled against Bones' chest, slim fingers gripping the man's red uniform. Bones peered down to him with a look of anger, confusion, and fondness rolled into one. As he opened his mouth to speak, Jim snored softly, his face pressed into the middle of Bones' chest. Bones finally sighed and gave in, draping one arm over the sleeping man's shoulders, dreading the moment he woke up.
But for now, this was surprisingly nice.