Not a Student

"James."

Jim stretched as he woke up, feeling the bed dip as someone sat on the edge next to him.

"Bones," he smiled, because of course it was Bones. Bones, the only person who would be in his room. Bones his…boyfriend. God that was fun to say. "I thought you left already?"

"I did, but I came back to murder you in your sleep."

Jim cracked an eye open.

"What?"

Bones was glaring down at him, gripping a PADD so hard it looked close to shattering. His jaw was twitching.

"Let's rewind a little bit," Jim said cautiously, rubbing a hand across his face. "What's going on?"

Bones grunted and roughly shoved the PADD at him, apparently so livid he couldn't remember how to make words work. Jim gave it a once-over before looking back up at Bones.

"Again, what's the problem here?"

Bones paused for a moment, taking a quick 12 seconds to square his shoulders like he did when he was gearing up for a fight. And Jim winced because Bones happened to be the best fighter he knew, as far as yelling went. He was built to be angry and yeah, usually that made Jim want to do any number of inappropriate things in return, but this was different. This was the first fight they'd had since becoming a "they".

"What's the problem?" he said. "Are you serious, Jim? You think I'd be okay with this? Really? Honestly?"

Jim sat up in the bed. If Bones really wanted to be a dick about this, fine.

"You're going. That's an order from your commanding officer, Bones. A non-negotiable order," he said, looking Bones straight in the eye because that's the only way to ever really bring a point home for Bones. Bones had a very old-fashioned idea of bravado. Which meant Jim had a front row seat to the raw look on Bones' face.

"So it's a punishment?" he asked, after a pause, mouth tipped down on one side.

"Of course not," Jim sighed sadly. "This is me making up from my mistakes. I'm trying to make sure that what happened in Medbay last week never happens again."

The bruises had faded to a splotchy pattern of light brown and yellow, though they were still clearly visible around the collar of Bones' uniform. They had also stopped resembling the very clear imprint of a hand, like it had been for the majority of the last few days. That still didn't make them easier for Jim to look at. So that's why he'd taken Sulu aside after shift yesterday and made him a deal: if he helped Jim run a combat training session with Bones, then Jim would let him use one of the empty science labs for his plants. Sulu had agreed, as Jim knew he would. Captains were responsible for knowing their crews critical pressure points and Sulu's had been almost embarrassingly easy to trigger. The man loved plants and Jim wasn't above exploiting the shit out of that, especially when it was ultimately for Bones. Bones looked at him, his gaze broken and steady.

"I'm sorry, Bones," Jim said, handing back the PADD. "But you're going. Think of it as a favor for me."

Bones met his eyes for another tense second before he turned sharply around, stalking through Jim's quarters and out the door.

Jim watched him go, before dropping back on to the bed. He knew, when he'd sent out the message yesterday, that there had been zero chance of it ending nicely. He had just hoped Bones would have given him the benefit of the doubt here. Their core dynamic hadn't changed much since they started officially dating (they'd sign the forms two weeks ago, much to Bones' embarrassment), other than the fact they had a very different kind of experience when having sleepovers now. The main observable difference was the fact that Bones seemed slightly less annoyed with Jim. Actually, he was probably the same level of annoyed, but now Jim was able to fix it easier. Bones was more willing to let issues go. So why couldn't do that now? The defense class wasn't about Bones. How could he not see that? It was about Jim covering his own ass. What happened with the pirate was 18 of Jim's worst nightmares conveniently packaged and delivered with a blood stained bow on top. Jim almost lost Bones. The crew almost lost Bones. And they couldn't have that because, whether he liked it or not, Leonard H. McCoy was pretty damn important to this ship, apart from the fact that its captain depended on him. He couldn't lose Bones, especially since Jim was the only reason he was on the ship now, instead of safe on some starbase half a million light years away.

Jim sighed. He'd give Bones the day to cool off. They didn't officially have plans that night, but they were Jim and Bones. They always were together in some way, shape, or form because they were "grossly infatuated" with one another, according to Uhura. But no one could really blame them because, come on, they were adorable. Objectively, Jim knew that. They were cute as fuck and he will not apologize for that.

He'd spend tonight alone, keeping away from Bones until tomorrow morning at 0900 when he'd see him in the gym, regardless of how pissed off he still was.

/

"Bones, are you still angry at me?"

"Bones?"

"Bones, stop. You're being ridiculous. I'm sitting right next to you; I know you can hear me."

"And what if I can't, Jim? Are you going to order me to take a training course for hearing?" McCoy snapped before pointedly turning around again to stretch with his back to Jim.

That was uncalled for, he knew it. But he was still angry enough to not be above good old-fashioned cheap shots. Though, admittedly, he knew that he probably should have come up with one sharper than that. If Jim continued pestering him, he'd have to result to rifling through the list of Jim's insecurities he kept on mental file.

"Boneeeeesssssss. Bones. Bones. Bones. Bones. Bones. Bones."

"That shirt makes your elbows look even weirder," McCoy snapped over his shoulder, loud enough he knew Jim could hear him.

Jim's mouth shut instantly.

"You're an asshole."

"Wait, Jim, I didn't mean that," McCoy tried to take back his words, turning around again to face Jim.

"You're angry. I get that."

But the truth was, McCoy wasn't angry at Jim.

Well, okay. He was a little bit. But it was more incidental anger than anything. He was angry at how utterly stupid he himself had been. There were a thousand different ways he could have better handled what happened in Medbay last week, ones that hadn't put Christine and Sulu and the entire ship in jeopardy. He'd had basic hand-to-hand defense classes back at the academy and he'd proven himself more than capable of handling things when he'd gotten in the odd fist fight the past few years. But for some reason his brain had short circuited and lost that instinctual defense and had let him be dragged around by the throat as a hostage. What the admiralty would think, knowing one of their flagship's senior officers had caused such a monumental, clusterfuck of a situation.

"It…it isn't you I'm angry at," McCoy told Jim, holding up his own honesty like a shield.

Another sigh.

"I know, Bones."

McCoy looked across the space between them on the mat. There was silence again, less strained than before but still not the comfortable kind they usually shared. This was the kind that happens when two people have a lot to say, but can't quite seem to figure out how to start. He wanted to tell Jim that if anyone had the right to be mad, it was Jim. Jim should be pissed McCoy for putting not only Christine and Sulu in danger, but the professional integrity of the ship as well. So yeah, he deserved this punishment. He brought it on himself. Sometimes he just really didn't understand Jim. Because Jim wasn't mad at him. Jim just wanted to help.

"You don't have weird elbows, Jim," McCoy finally offered.

"I know that too," Jim said, though the words were ruined by the hesitant hand he, subconsciously or not, kept running over the back over his left arm. They watched Sulu make his way across the gym to them.

"Sulu," Jim nodded at him.

"Captain," Sulu replied, dropping his bag down near them. Jim hopped up and pulled McCoy to his feet. They looked at each other for a moment before Jim smiled, crooked and intimate and McCoy was not blushing and—

"Okay, no."

They looked back at Sulu.

"No," Sulu repeated, looking between the two of them. "You can't do… the thing."

"The thing?" Jim asked.

"The thing! The looking at each other all…sexual thing. It makes me incredibly uncomfortable and I will leave. The lab isn't worth it."

McCoy took a step away from Jim pointedly, raising an eyebrow at Sulu.

"Better?"

"Better."

"Alright," McCoy nodded. He rubbed his hands together, not looking at Jim. "What's the plan? Who am I hitting first?"

"Hitting isn't your problem, Bones," Jim said, not looking at McCoy. "We've seen you in enough brawls to know that. You can handle yourself in a fist fight."

"That's basic self-defense," Sulu added, not looking at either of them. "We're working on the more advanced levels they teach you in command track."

"Do I get a gold shirt?"

"You can borrow mine," Jim winked.

"That's two. On three I'm honest-to-God going to quit."

"Okay, okay," Jim sighed, turning to look at Sulu. He gave him a nod. "Let's start with something simple."

McCoy sighed as Sulu walked up behind him.

"Wait what—"

Sulu wrapped his arm around McCoy's neck, applying the barest amount of pressure on his windpipe.

McCoy tensed immediately.

"Really, Jim?" He said, trying for annoyed indifference.

"Really, Bones," Jim countered, as Sulu widened his stance.

"So your first lesson is going to be getting me off," Sulu said.

"Okay, you can't get mad at us about sexual things and then say that."

"Fair enough: the first lesson is going to be removing an assailant when they have you by the throat. Better?"

"Much."

"Alright then," Sulu said. "With this, it's all about leverage. All you've got to do is turn my weight against me."

"Step one being?" McCoy asked, rolling his shoulders experimentally.

"Twist your hips as much as you can until you can get your left foot behind his right," Jim instructed.

McCoy did as instructed, Sulu's arm restricting as he bent forward, just enough to free his hips.

"Left foot behind-"

"His right, got it," McCoy mumbled, concentrating. He shimmied further, pulling himself, counterintuitively, closer to Sulu—but, with effort, he managed to plant his left foot behind the heel of his right.

"That was the hard part," Jim told him, bending down to be able to see him, as McCoy was nearly bent double. "Now comes the part where you run the risk of accidentally snapping the Sulu's arm."

Oh good," McCoy yelled, his face pressed against Sulu's ribs. "I was wondering when it was going to get fun."

"You are not going to break my arm."

"You might break his arm."

"Jim, dammit, I don't—"

"You are not going to break my arm."

"Alright," McCoy finally snapped. "What I am doing?"

"Right hand, Sulu's right elbow," Jim said.

"Check."

"Now use that grip that push yourself out from his hold."

McCoy gripped Sulu's elbow before slipped out from his hold.

"As you come up," Sulu added. "Grab my left wrist while keeping your right on my elbow."

And just like that, McCoy was free. The pressure was gone from his neck and he breathed in deeply.

"Now run away," Jim said happily.

McCoy snorted. "Why can't I just kick the back of his knee and drop him?"

"You could, but you are dead already," Sulu said, reaching behind his back. He pulled out a phaser and pointed it nonchalantly at McCoy. "I just killed you."

McCoy put his hands on his hips.

"That's not fair! I didn't know you were going to do that."

"Lesson Two," Jim said as he hauled Sulu to his feet. "What to do now that you know he's going to do that."

/

3 hours later

"I can't move."

"I can move but I don't want to."

"I've been trying to move for the last five minutes. I think my toe twitched."

Jim lay staring open-mouthed at the ceiling. The mat wasn't designed for too much comfort, but it still felt like heaven. Sweat still poured from seemingly every part of his body despite the fact that he'd been lying panting on the mats for at least 15 minutes. He could feel Bones and Sulu sprawled out in a similar fashion on either side of them, their breathing finally quieting down. The lieutenant had an arm pressed against his eyes.

"That last fight kicked my ass," he groaned.

"Agreed," Bones mumbled. He'd run his hand through his hair at some point, the sweat making it stand up wildly—so drastically unlike Bones' usual prim and regulated style that Jim had to laugh.

"Bones, you look ridiculous," he offered as explanation when the other two turned to him at the noise.

"Well so do you."

"You love it."

"You love it."

"I hate both of you," Sulu sighed. "You stink and need a shower."

"And food," Jim added wistfully. "I think it's Shepard's Pie day in the cafeteria."

Both Sulu and Bones made appreciative noises in the back of their throats.

"But both of those things require movin' from this spot," Bones informed him.

"Good point."

They lapsed back into silence.

After working through lessons 2-15 for an hour, they'd spent the last two in hands-on, practical-approach, sparring matches. Sometimes one on one, other times two on one. They'd finished with an interesting one on one on one fight that had well and truly wiped them all out to the point that they had immediately dropped to the floor once they'd called a draw. Jim knew he'd be sore for a good few days. He touched his tongue gently to the split in the corner of his upper lip. Luckily, that had been their only injury besides the bruises or else Bones would have thrown an absolute fit. Actually, at this point, he would probably be too tired to even string together even a compound cuss word.

"Alright," Bones groaned suddenly. "That's it. I'm going to suffer like an adult in bed."

He rolled over and pushed up from the mat with a wince.

"Leave me here to die," Jim sighed. "I love you, don't come into my quarters until you've showered."

"Aye aye, captain," he parted with a wink towards Jim. "Thanks, Sulu."

Sulu waved a hand half-heartedly. "Night, Dr. McCoy."

Jim twisted his neck in order to be to watch Bones make his way across the gym at a slow, gingerly pace. They'd accomplished something here, right? He couldn't ease the guilt he felt over what happened in Medbay last week (the bruises on Bones made sure of that) but he could try to offer a counter-attack against it. Providing Bones with a better fighting chance against pirates or aliens or whatever the hell they might run into in the future. He'd pushed Bones hard today, but not has hard as Bones seemed to push himself. He was feeling probably even guiltier than Jim was. Jim almost laughed out loud at that. What a pair the two of them made. They both were stuck on blaming themselves. It wasn't Bones' fault and Jim knew, logically, he couldn't be the only one to blame here. But, illogically, his brain and gut wouldn't let him accept that. He was just egotistical like that.

"He's alright."

Jim turned back to Sulu, surprised to find the lieutenant's eyes closed.

"I can feel you fretting," he answered the implied silence.

Jim shifted on the mat with a twitch.

"I don't fret over anyone on this ship. Mainly because who the hell even uses the word fret?"

"You're right," Sulu said.

"I know," Jim smirked. "It's one of those words that only Spock uses just to-"

"You don't fret over anyone on this ship," Sulu talked over him. "You fuss over the crew. You only fret over Dr. McCoy."

Jim laughed at that.

"Can you blame me?" he added quietly. He pushed up to lean on his elbow so he could look at Sulu. "Bones and I, we…even before we were…what we are…we…"

Sulu cut him off with a smirk and a quick shake of his head.

"I get it, Jim. Trust me, I get it. No need to have a heart-to-heart about it. You ever notice how every conversation people tend to have on this ship seems to end in a heart-to-heart? That bugs me," Sulu finished with a small frown.

Jim laid his head back down on the mat.

"Oh my God," he mumbled, struck dumb. "You're so right."

"Mmmhmm."

"You know, that's the first time I think you've ever called me anything but 'Captain,'" Jim pointed out.

Sulu (Hikaru?) shrugged.

"I think I'm even too tired to be respectful."

"I was wondering what sparked the honesty," Jim mused. It was rare to see the man as anything less than the precise, almost uptight, soldier. It wasn't a bad change, it just came so far out of left field, Jim's concern was spiked. Was there a problem? An issue? Had working under Jim for 3 years finally been enough to push him to the breaking point? He shifted again on the mat in order to look at his helmsman. "You know, Sulu, you can always be hon-"

Sulu sat up abruptly, shaking his head wildly.

"No, no, no, no, no, no. You're doing it again," he yelled, getting to his feet slowly. "Stop trying to have a heart-to-heart with me! What is wrong with this ship?"

Sulu started walking away and Jim tried to jump up after him. He got one leg up before biting off a cry.

"Wait! Sulu, come back. I…I think I'm hurt," Jim called with a wince.

Sulu whipped back around, his frown replaced with worry.

"Where?"

"In my soul. I think I need to bare it to someone to be sure though."

Sulu turned back around.

"Have a good day, Captain."

Jim laughed.