Watching him light up was always contradictory, a future med student accepted at a top ranked university with a full ride scholarship.
"Aren't you supposed to be home already?"
The snark, the sass.
Him watching those pretty lips as they wrapped around that cigarette.
It was a moment of silence as he recalls his stepdad, angry that he'd come home reeking of smoke and with bruises on his neck.
He'd demanded to know what girl he'd been with and if they were planning a future together.
Otherwise, he'd said, it was a waste of time.
But sometimes, wastes of time were the best time you'd ever had.
Silence for a few moments, the only sound was Bones' leg jumping on the grass.
Anxiety was a hell of a thing when you were sober.
"I hate you." Jim took the cigarette and inhaled deeply, his lungs burning.
"No you don't." Bones replied, taking it back and leaning over to kiss Jim lightly on the lips.
Bones tasted of cheap cigarettes and sleep.
Kirk tasted like stolen wine and mint gum.
Two halfs of the same whole.
Love and death and the summer before they would leave each other.
No promises.
Nothing.
Just the two of them sharing whatever they could get.
Wine, brandy, cheap beer. It didn't matter.
At night, they would walk the cornfields smoking or drinking and kissing until their lips were bruised.
Near morning when Bones' parents were gone off to work, they would go down to his bedroom in the basement and watch movies or have sex or smoke.
No promises.
Never any promises.
It was a system that worked for both of them.
3 years prior, they had become friends when Bones had transferred.
The weird guy that would come into class baked every other day, but able to keep it together to keep his grades up.
All while Jim struggled sober.
They'd always shared classes since then and were paired together for projects.
They borderline hated each other.
But borderline adored at the same time.
Neither of them knew that a fight would bring them together.
The smaller of the two in his large hoodie and reeking of pot was cornered behind the bleachers by a group of boys.
"Heard you were a dealer, fucker?"
"Not really..."
"Not really?" A shove into the wall.
"I need to get to class..."
"Not a chance." A fist came down on his cheek, the stinging enough to snap him back.
Another
And another.
He didn't want to hit them back, but he didn't want to die today either.
Fists raised, he was about to throw a punch back.
Then Jim showed up.
Always fucking Jim.
Two black eyes and a bloody nose.
"Boys will be boys." Bones took a drag from his cigarette, wiping his nose on his sleeve in an attempt to make it stop.
"You can't say that when you're a boy, you fucker." Jim replied, cracking a smile.
"I can say what I want, Jim."
"Okay? So you don't call me James now?" His smile was growing.
"Oh come on. You're the golden boy. Everyone knows your name. Don't take it personally."
"Yeah, but you made it personal." A wink. An actual goddamn wink.
"Proved you wrong then."
"About what?"
"Nothing."
And it wasn't nothing. It was approaching summer and they were bored. Bored of everything.
But not bored of each other.
And so they started this mess of madness.
It's the kind of things that you don't get, that you don't ever understand.
The universe works in weird ways.
Too weird for us to understand.
But sometimes, it brings two souls together in a way that makes the most sense.
Sometimes if you listen, it'll bring you to you as well.