Gaila wasn't quite the novice Leonard had been expecting, but then she hadn't had the benefit of a misspent youth either.

Two Tamarian Frosts and a glass of whiskey later he was beginning to regret that friendly wager. One Warp Core Breach and a couple shots of something neon blue, Gaila looked rather like she might have reached the same conclusion. Not that either one of them was ready to back down, there had already been far too much trash-talking for that.

"If you don't watch your grip you're going to sink the eight again."

"If you didn't comment on every shot, I wouldn't have missed so many. Are you trying to sabotage my game?" She suggested sweetly, taking her turn despite Leonard's half-indignant sigh.

"I don't need those kinds of tricks to win." He held up his empty glass pointedly, smirking when she pouted.

"Who said that first win wasn't charity?"

"I thought you didn't give handicaps-"

"Are you seriously going to leave me alone all night while you settle the score with Gaila?" Jim's impatient voice cut in, an edge of fond exasperation to it.

Startled, Gaila's aim went wide, striking the cue at just the right angle to send it spiraling into the eight ball while Leonard crowed his triumph.

"Told you!"

"Not fair! Jim was talking! Again." Gaila added, tugging at the curls of her hair vexedly. "We need a new game-"

"No." Jim cut in quickly, stifling a grin at Leonard's open laughter, "I'm claiming boyfriend rights, you can have your rematch some other time."

Bones turned a knowing eye on him, "Doesn't have anything to do with the fact that Spock has finally stopped watching you?"

Jim managed a guilty smile, filled with all a little boy's charm. "I swear he has it in for me."

Bones chuckled, "That goes for half the faculty, I wouldn't take it personally."

Gaila glanced over, taking in Spock's posture as he leaned halfway over the table, deeply engrossed in his conversation with Uhura. "I don't think he cares about you at all right now."

"And that goes double for me." Jim cut in, throwing a proprietary arm about Bones' waist. "So with that settled, care to join me for onion rings and a final drink?"

"That's my cue." Gaila chirped, rolling her eyes, "You two have fun. While I drink alone because I've lost all my friends tonight."

She swept past them on a perfumed breeze, already making for a knot of cadets near the dart board in the back. Whatever small prick of guilt Jim might have felt for snatching Bones away from their game vanished as easily as that, leaving him with no more than a warm glow of satisfaction for a job well done.

"Care for a game, Jim?"

"After watching you hustle Gaila? No thanks. I do think you owe me a drink though."

"Oh?" Bones arched an inquisitive brow, allowing himself to curve into Jim's embrace as they made their way toward the bar.

"Hm. After the last one you left all over my boots."

"Shouldn't that be the other way around then?" Bones couldn't resist whispering in Jim's ear, not after seeing how he had reacted to it earlier. He was not disappointed; Jim gave a full-body shudder, nearly purring with contentment.

"You lost your drink, but I lost my boots. It's really the only gentlemanly thing to do."

Bones laughed aloud, "I suppose it is, when you put it that way."

They made their slow way across the floor, Jim's hand tangling in the soft material of his shirt, Leonard hooking a proprietary finger in the loop of Jim's jeans to drag him nearer every time he drifted away. Which wasn't often with the way they clung together. For the first time in a long time, all felt right with the universe.

"What were you drinking? Tamarian Frosts?" Jim gestured to the bartender, clearly eager to try this newly discovered beast. He watched with nearly childlike wonder as the drinks were prepared, froth and frost and a smoking rim.

Leonard contented himself with watching Jim. Top cadet at the academy, well on his way to an early graduation and a captain's chair, in the top ten percent of all his classes, in the good books of most of his peers, a veritable idol to his juniors… and an unrepentant pain in the ass for anyone with rank.

Yet here he was, watching the bartender mix their drinks like a kid at his first magic show, convinced nothing but the blackest of sorcery could pull it off.

Jim was the very incarnation of a living contradiction. Leonard wondered privately if he would ever learn to reconcile every aspect of Jim's larger-than-life personality.

Likely not, and perhaps he shouldn't try. Jim valued his unpredictability, and while Leonard was proud that he could predict- more often than not- what Jim would get up to, it would break his heart to be read like an open book.

"This looks fantastic." Jim whispered in awe, a delighted grin spreading across his lips when the glass was deposited in front of him. "I don't know why I haven't had one of these before. You're a genius, Bones."

Leonard snorted, "You're easily impressed."

Jim shrugged, "Tomato, To-mah-to."

"There's a right way to say tomato, and then there's gibberish."

Jim didn't respond, too busy burying his snout in a steaming glass and pointedly ignoring Leonard's pro forma attempt to bicker. He was in a spectacular mood tonight: The Kobayashi Maru finished- beaten- Jim mentally crowed, with Bones there to witness his brilliance no less. In a couple days the flight sim business would be taken care of, and McCoy's mood was already greatly improving.

Joanna approved of him, liked him even. Bones liked him. Bones liked him liked him. For the first time in his life, Jim no longer felt like a puzzle piece that didn't fit. Bones matched every bump and hollow, two irregular pieces that fit together perfectly if nowhere else.

It was the alcohol making him so maudlin, but Jim couldn't be bothered to care. He knew a good thing when he found it, and his instinct- Jim's closest companion- was telling him Leonard McCoy might just be the best thing that was ever going to happen to him.

Once they had their ship and commissions of course. Aboard the Enterprise because Jim had always been very insistent on that point.

"You're looking mighty pleased with yourself." Leonard purred, only sipping at his drink now. There was something softer about him tonight too, contentment dulling all his ragged edges.

"We should head home." He offered, smile taking a turn for the sly. Leonard caught the change in expression immediately, matching it with a smirk of his own.

"We should."

They had just started to stand, drinks abandoned on the bar in their eagerness to be gone, when someone threw a burly arm about Jim's shoulder and crowed in his ear, "Nice going, Kirk, I was betting on you."

Gary. Gary Mitchell. Of course he would have to crawl out of the woodwork just as they were preparing to leave.

Leonard turned back, throwing Mitchell a thoroughly contemptuous look. The man never could keep his thoughts or his hands to himself. Jim wasn't so passive as to content himself with a look- he threw an elbow into Mitchell's ribs and extricated himself from the hold like he was shaking off a spiderweb, complete with a disgusted grimace.

"Fuck off, Mitchell." It should have ended there, with a few snide words and an uncomfortable embrace; Jim was in a good mood, there was an officer in the bar, Leonard didn't want trouble-

"So if you're fucking again, do I get double my credits?" Mitchell shouted after them, braying loud enough to wake the dead let alone draw the attention of the entire room. "Take one for the team, McCoy!"

At least Leonard was fairly certain that was what he meant to say. Jim's fist cut off the last word when it struck Mitchell's diaphragm at just the right angle to drop him gasping and choking to the floor. Leonard closed the space between them in a split second, catching Jim's arm before he could pounce to land another blow. He wanted to, Leonard could feel it in the way Jim's muscles flexed and strained beneath his grip.

Embarrassed and keenly aware every eye in the joint was on them, he started to haul Jim out, hoping against hope they wouldn't get entangled in this- cadets had been known to trash a bar or two, and with Mitchell the only one hurt Jim had at least confined the scope of damage.

But of course the universe could never let Leonard McCoy have a simple, uncomplicated night of enjoyment because the Vulcan was already hovering in the doorway, eyeing them balefully in a way that suggested his poor opinion of human emotions had been confirmed yet again.

Jim straightened and met Spock's eyes, finally tearing a sparking gaze away from Mitchell. "Sir?"

"Cadet Kirk, not only are you in violation of your probation-"

"We covered that already." Jim said flatly, and Leonard prayed to whomever was listening that twist of his lips wouldn't turn into a sneer.

"But you have assaulted a colleague in violation of Starfleet's code of conduct." Spock continued unruffled, not deigning to acknowledge the interruption.

"It was a private matter." Leonard cut in, desperately hoping to keep Jim from spending the night in a cell.

Spock turned a frosty eye on him, "It was a public spectacle, cadet McCoy."

He couldn't keep the blush from rising to his cheeks. The bar was still silent, every cadet there practically frozen in time with drinks half-lifted to their mouths and eyes wide in disbelief.

"One hit knockout." Uhura cut in, bless her, lifting a still stunned Mitchell to his feet and reluctantly patting off his shirt. Leonard appreciated her sacrifice. "We should take cadet Mitchell back to campus for an evaluation."

That was the protocol on the books, even if it was plain most of Mitchell's suffering came from the blow to his pride. Spock very clearly wanted to deal with Jim first, but with every cadet watching any violation was not only bound to be recorded, but witnessed.

Leonard could see the pointy-eared bastard fighting not to grind his teeth in frustration.

"We could meet you at the infirmary, if you insisted." Leonard chimed in again, bland as oatmeal. Meet in the infirmary, file an official report, call security and deal with all the politics and procedures of confining a cadet for a matter of hours. It wasn't beyond Spock, Leonard still remembered the rugby debacle, but he was betting efficiency would win out.

His gamble paid off. Spock stepped aside, just enough to allow Leonard to squeeze by without bumping into him.

"We will address this in a disciplinary hearing, cadet Kirk. Along with your numerous other violations."

Leonard kept a straight face, for all the world as though he wasn't exerting every last ounce of strength he had to keep Jim from body-checking the Vulcan. It was one thing to go for another cadet, entirely another to start shit with an officer. Not that Jim Kirk appreciated these distinctions in the slightest. He was an equal opportunity sort of man, and no respecter of rank.

"Calm down." He growled, finally allowing Jim to shrug out of his grip.

"Asshole." Jim snarled, and Len didn't bother asking to whom it was addressed. Likely the entirety of Starfleet unless he missed his guess.

It was going to be a few months before he felt like stepping foot in that bar again, or anywhere near the other cadets for that matter.

"You should've just let him have his moment of fame."

"Don't start."

"I'll start whatever I damn please, Jim. He was talkin' to me-"

"He was being a jackass." Jim interrupted.

Leonard couldn't argue the point, so he moved on. "And while I appreciate the thought, I don't need you standing up for my honor."

Jim snorted incredulously, "He went for us-"

"You're a hero on campus, Jim. Word of your little bet got around so quickly because everyone wants a piece of Jim Kirk. You even managed to fuck the one guy that didn't." He meant it for humor, but the truth of it hit home as soon as the words left his mouth. In the eyes of his peers he was now another one of Jim Kirk's conquests.

What of it? He was still the best med cadet on campus, so there was no one bold enough to say it to his face even if they gossiped behind his back. Word would get around though; no one had more time on their hands than academy cadets.

"So what, I should just let anyone in the bar call you the campus slut?"

"Is that what you think?" Leonard snapped.

"That's exactly what he was implying and you know it. I've been there, Bones, and I won't let Mitchell paint you that way."

"And I said it's none of your damn business."

"It is. If we're doing a thing-"

"A relationship thing?" Bones quipped mildly, amused and annoyed and half tempted to call the whole thing off until Jim got the message that 'lover' did not mean 'attack dog'.

"Then you are my business."

Oh.

He wasn't sure whether that statement was more heartwarming or discomforting. Jim had that hero complex going for him, the desire to make everything right for everyone, but Leonard McCoy had been on his own for years and he had muddled through well enough. Until Jim Kirk had stepped into the picture and begun neatly reordering his life until it was the mirror image of what he had always wanted.

It was unrecognizable from what he had built, and dwelling on that thought too long still made him feel like a leaf caught in the hurricane that was Jim. Now Jim was telling him to get used to it.

"Jim, you have to let me pick a few battles for myself. I can't always count on you."

"You can."

"I won't." Leonard reiterated more firmly.

Jim huffed, but didn't bother protesting. Leonard was relieved to see the tension seeping out of his frame, eyes no longer sparking with suppressed rage. The quirk of his lips even suggested humor.

"What is it with me and meeting Starfleet officers in bars, do you think?"

"Always right after you start something too."

"Finished. I finished it."

Leonard rolled his eyes, bumping companionably into Jim. "Alright, finished. Doesn't change the fact that you need to catch some sleep tonight because tomorrow you're going to be on the horns."

Jim laughed aloud, "You honestly think bureaucracy moves that fast? I have a week, Bones."

"Lay credits on it?"

"No, that's what got me in trouble in the first place."

!

!

!

Somehow they made it home. Leonard wasn't sure exactly what they were going to do about Jim's bike or whether he was going to wake at six in the morning to a knock on the door and a summons for Jim's disciplinary hearing. Yet they still made it home through a combination of blind luck and black sorcery before the drinks really kicked in.

He wasn't really sure what had happened after that but they ended up in the same bed, still in last night's clothes, clinging to each other like the universe might try to rip them apart if they drifted too far out of each other's orbit.

All in all, it wasn't a bad way to wake up.

"Mmm. Morning." Jim purred, hooking a leg over Leonard's hip suggestively, "Sleep well?"

"Jim." It was a warning, but as usual Jim chose to interpret it as a challenge, his hand starting a repetitive striking rhythm over Leonard's chest down to his stomach, stopping just at his belly button. He pretended not to see the warning look.

"How's your hand."

"Care to see?" The hand in question dipped a little lower to palm Leonard through his pants.

"Dammit, Jim, you hit Mitchell hard. Let me see your knuckles."

"What, in case I cut them on his abs?" Jim snorted, "I doubt it." He relented nevertheless, dutifully showing Leonard his only slightly discolored skin.

Leonard yawned wide, popping his jaw. "You're fine."

"Like I said." Jim countered, determined to have the last word. He propped himself on an elbow, swarming atop Leonard like a lizard atop a hot rock. "So. We have a day off."

"I need to run through another sim." Leonard groused, glancing over at the clock. At least it was still morning so he hadn't lost the day.

"Sure, but do you have to go now?" Jim rocked slightly, the beginning of his interest just starting to make itself known.

Leonard counted backward from five before he responded. "Tell you one thing I do need right now."

"What's that?" Jim's smile took on a salacious edge, already anticipating the answer.

"Make sure you remember our conversation last night about minding your own business. And manners."

"Seriously." It wasn't a question, even if Jim's brows had arched in the way that suggested he was baffled and disbelieving.

"As death." Leonard locked gazes with him, willing him to understand and give in for once.

Jim sighed deeply, lowering himself until he could pin Leonard between his arms and stretching out like a human blanket. A very warm, easily excited human blanket. Leonard's lips quirked in amusement.

"Look, I get where you're coming from-"

"Do you? It sounds a lot like you're about to justify meddling in my business." He tried not to let his frustration bleed into his tone, but he felt as though he was beating his head against a brick wall trying to get Kirk to respect his autonomy. If they didn't start here, their strange little 'something more' wasn't going anywhere.

"I get where you're coming from," Jim reiterated, throwing him a reproachful glare, "But hear me out. No one makes it alone here. Don't believe me? Look around, you're observant. Everyone comes in pairs if they're not in packs. Uhura and Gaila are legendary in the linguistics concentration, Sulu and Chekov are always on the same sims. Hell, even Gary Mitchell has Liz. And they work, all of them, because they're in each other's corners."

He jostled Leonard a little, trying to surprise the frown off his face before it could become a full-blown scowl.

"I couldn't have come this far without Pike." Jim said softly, eyes flicking away from Leonard's for the first time, the admission a little too intimate even for his self-confidence. "But he's different. I have you now." Jim leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Leonard's lips, "And like it or not, you have me. We're going to be something amazing, Bones. Starfleet will name ships after us."

Len snorted incredulously, but he didn't speak, and Jim thought his face might have softened a little. "But first you have to trust me. So I'll give you your space and you can pick your battles, but don't ask me to stand back and watch while some asshole takes a shot at you."

"Trouble is, Jim, you're gonna have to do just that if you ever want to be a captain. Might as well get used to it now."

For a long moment neither one of them spoke, both locked in a stubborn battle of wills and neither willing to give an inch. Then Jim buried his face in Leonard's neck, heaving a sigh like he had just laid down the weight of the world.

"Alright, compromise?"

"Depends." Leonard murmured, smiling slightly when Jim pressed another gentle kiss to his pulse. As far as negotiation methods went, this was one of the more mutually satisfying ones.

"I won't interfere with your work. At all. Until it's my ship and then we renegotiate. We split personal stuff fifty/fifty."

"Hm. Twenty/eighty in my favor."

"Forty-five/fifty-five in your favor?"

Leonard considered, "I could do forty/sixty in my favor if I had a red card."

"Done." Jim knew a bargain when he heard one.

"Mitchell is a red card."

"For you maybe, but Gaila and I already decided we were going to kick his ass."

"Your commission gets a little farther out of reach every time you show your teachers you're still a kid."

Jim bit down on a tendon in his neck until he yelped, "I'm not, though." He kissed the sting away, slowly working his way up the curve of Len's throat to his mouth, following when he turned away.

"You're not, but I haven't brushed my teeth and we smell like a distillery."

"I don't care."

"I do." Just not enough to protest when Jim caught his mouth anyway, tongue slipping between his lips to explore leisurely. It was soft and sweet, everything Leonard had missed about casual intimacy- then Jim began to rock steadily into him, the ridge of his jeans pressing into Leonard's cock and he was abruptly reminded of the second thing he missed.

Silencing the voice in his head that was feebly protesting they were too messy for this, and too old to be behaving like lovestruck teens, Leonard let his hands roam up Jim's sides and down his back, pausing for a very appreciative squeeze of his ass. Jim hummed contentedly, deliberately tensing his muscles until Leonard raked blunt nails up the denim in mute approval.

"We have a couple hours before we need to claim a sim." Jim glanced pointedly at the bedside table, suspecting Bones had snuck the lube in sometime after their first encounter.

For a moment he thought Bones was going to shove him off, tell him they could continue this in the shower, and he wouldn't have objected but… his heart did a funny little somersault when Bones reached for the drawer and pulled the tube out.

"You're so impatient." Bones grumbled, dangerously close to a complaint. Jim stole another lingering kiss just to remind him there were a few things Jim Kirk took his sweet time with.

"I could make you beg if you prefer?"

Bones laughed aloud, and Jim nearly leapt of his skin in shock. "I'd like to see you try, sometime."

"I take that for a challenge." Jim shot back, cocky grin firmly in place.

"You take it however you like, just get your damn pants off first." Jim didn't bother pointing out that he was supposed to be the impatient one. Not when Bones was yanking his belt out of its loops- hello, graphic new fantasy- and shoving his pants down his hips.

They both paused, Leonard blinking incredulously and Jim grinning like the cat in the cream. "You planned for this," he accused, staring at Jim's bare erection, no pesky boxers or briefs to obstruct the admittedly welcome view.

"I mean, we were a little late-" He stuttered and shut up when Bones ran a dry, calloused hand up his length to tease the tip, rubbing his thumb in the precum already gathering there.

"Better late than never?"

"Oh hell yes." Jim agreed, allowing his legs to fall open and give Len unimpeded access.

"You plannin' on taking your shirt off?" Leonard murmured, pausing only long enough to pop the lid off the lube and spread a bit on his palm, easing the way. Jim moaned, basking in pure sensation: Bones' increasingly labored breathing in his ears, warm slick gliding down his length and the rough threads of his partner's jeans abrading his over-sensitized skin. That seemed like a far more pressing problem than a shirt in his books.

"You planning on taking your pants off?"

Leonard cocked his head, a considering light in his eye Jim hadn't seen before and didn't completely trust. "Maybe not. I think I like the idea of fucking you like this."

Jim hadn't thought it was possible, but his cock hardened further at the casual profanity spoken in such an intimate tone. He opened his mouth to respond, but Bones cut him off by the simple expedient of tightening his grip and swirling his palm along the head.

"You could unzip my pants and ride me, just like this." Bones smirked at the image in his mind's eye, eyes hooding with lust. Jim unconsciously licked his suddenly dry lips, acutely aware of the heat of Leonard's body, the way they moved together in sync-

"You are filthy in the morning." Jim panted, hands curling and uncurling in Len's shirt like a contented cat. It had been good between them the first few times, of course, but this? It was beyond anything Jim had ever considered.

His only answer was a chuckle. Clearly post-night out Bones was the best Bones.

"Or is it lazy?" He pressed, slowly pushing himself up off Leonard's chest.

"Little bit of both, I s'pose." Leonard slurred his words a bit, distracted by the ripple of muscle beneath skin. Jim loved that dazed look- the admiration and affection in his partner's eyes as plain as day.

"Do I prep myself too?"

Leonard gave a full-body shudder, tongue darting out just enough that Jim was tempted to catch it. He restrained himself, but only just.

"I'd love t' see that one day. Now, though-" Leonard's free hand yanked him forward, bending him at the waist just enough for him to squeeze a fat dollop of lube between Jim's cheeks, spreading it liberally around the furl there- lingering to press and stretch when Jim bucked back against him, shameless in his desire.

"God, Bones, you're perfect." He suited action to words, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping Leonard's pants, sucking in a quiet breath when Leonard's erection sprang free, hard and weeping.

"Could say the same about you." Impetuous as always, Jim sank onto Leonard's cock without warning, both of them keening at the suddenness of it. Jim was sure he would have finger-shaped bruises on his hips by that afternoon with the way Len was clutching him.

He would wear them with pride, maybe even taunt his partner into an encore again that night to finish the job.

They froze like that for an eternal moment, Leonard sunk to the hilt, Jim pressing his palms flat into a strong chest, every nerve-ending alive with pleasure.

"Move, Jim, please." Bones sounded wrecked. Any devious plan Jim had to make him plead for release evaporated- what wouldn't he do if Bones asked?

Jim lifted himself slightly and sank down, settling into a steady, deep rhythm that had them both shaking with the strain of holding back. Leonard canted his hips just enough to give Jim his legs to rest against, if only a little while Jim fought not to curl into the man beneath him and demand to be ravished within an inch of his life.

Evidently psychic, Leonard took his cue anyway. Jim's world spun as one of Leonard's arms clamped about his waist, the other balancing their weight as their position was suddenly flipped. Jim found himself spread-eagle on the comforter, Leonard between his legs, already pressing into him again, petting his stomach and sides, nimble fingers plying his cock until Jim gritted his teeth with the effort of not coming.

It was a short-lived victory, Leonard pushed into him once more, a series of sharp, shallow thrusts followed by a deep plunge as a warm palm glided up the inside of his cock. Jim sobbed out his name as he reached his peak, rutting against Leonard's pants and flecking them with his own spunk.

He didn't give a damn, and Leonard, lush lips already pressed to his own, taking the last of Jim's cries into his mouth, clearly didn't either.