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Jim’s fairly certain he’s drunk. The half empty bottle of Orion’s answer to Tequila tells him he should be a little more than fairly certain. Not aloud, of course. He isn’t that drunk. Just drunk enough that he and Gaila have started playing truth or dare like two sixteen year olds who are too timid to shed their clothes and feel each other up. Laughing to himself, at something he’s sure was funny five seconds ago but can’t quite remember anymore, Jim takes another shot. Gaila’s cheek is warm when he leans over to kiss it. She smirks at him but shakes her head.
“Now, now, Jimmy,” she chides, trying not to giggle.
“You’re pheromoning again, G,” he whispers, “I can’t help it. You smell great.”
“It’s the moonshine,” she laughs, threading her fingers through his mousey blonde hair. “Anyway, we’ve already established that your preference does not lie with women.”
“You’re not just any woman, G,” Jim counters, “smart and funny, and a red head to boot.”
“Don’t be handsy,” she warns playfully. Jim answers her with a spirited growl of his own but respectfully draws his hand away from her waist, murmuring an apology.
“I’ll behave,” he promises, raising both hands in a sign of surrender.
“Good,” Gaila smiles, “I like it when you’re obedient.”
“Doesn’t happen often,” Jim notes.
“Pity.”
“It’s your turn for a dare,” Jim reminds.
“To give or take?”
“To give.”
“Doesn’t that make it your turn for a dare?” she counters.
Jim scrubs his hand over his face, “I don’t know, G,” he admits with a bubble of laugher.
“Oooh,” she grins, “I have an idea. For the rest of the night you have to wear one of my bras.”
“But I don’t have any breasts,” Jim reminds her. They giggle for a moment before another idea, one even more brilliant than the last, strikes her.
“Panties then,” she grins.
This gives a whole new meaning to Jim’s desire to get into Gaila’s panties. But he scoffs and plays along. “I don’t think my junk will fit.”
“Like I haven’t already seen it anyway,” she points out.
“True enough,” Jim grants, offering Gaila a grin to match her own, “okay then, throw your panties at me.”
Gaila rolls her eyes good-naturedly and shuffles over to her chest of draws. She rises up on her knees to open one of the smaller draws at the top of the unit, contemplating the selection for a moment before making a decision. She settles on a very plain, baby-blue cotton thong.
“I lost the matching bra,” she says by way of explanation when she throws the garment in Jim’s direction. “You can keep it,” she jokes, “it matches your eyes.”
“Aw, G, you’re just too kind,” Jim says sweetly, fluttering his eyelashes before he snorts and steps into her ensuite bathroom.
Jim shucks out of his jeans and underwear with relative ease, one leg gets caught around his ankle for a bit but he manages to get free regardless of his liquor-tinged state and clumsy movements.
He stands in the bathroom for a while, naked from the waist down and frowning. What is he supposed to be doing? Maybe he’s drunker than he thought. Maybe it’s because he’s having to commit to standing up for a prolonged period of time after a quarter of a bottle of Orion moonshine.
“Ah,” he remembers, clenching the soft material in his fist, puffing his breath out derisively. He steps into the thong, holding onto the sink with one hand so he doesn’t fall forward and end up with his face mushed against the tiles. They fit him surprisingly well, the half-inch-wide T-bar doesn’t dig into his skin or pull at awkward places, he has to adjust himself slightly to try and maintain some sort of modesty but it altogether isn’t the most uncomfortable thing he’s ever worn.
When Jim looks up into the full length mirror on the opposite wall, he gasps. Well, gasps might be an exaggeration. His breath does hitch though, and it’s certainly a decibel or two louder than it should be what with the alcohol dulling any hope he has over controlling his bodily functions.
Jim frowns at his reflection and cocks his head. Lifting the hem of his plain white t-shirt to just above his belly button he draws his eyes over his abdomen, watching the way the pull of mousey hair from his navel meets the thin blue material that barely holds his cock in place. His cock, which was completely unfazed a moment ago, is now twitching with interest. Hardening at the sight of himself… Jim isn’t usually that vain. But this seems different somehow.
He exhales a shaky breath and turns to look at himself in profile, the only break in his milky skin is the thin blue strap of the thong that rests low on his hip. The curve of his ass seems all the more pronounced because of it. Jim carries on turning, silently revelling in the sight of the small triangle strip of material that rests above the crack of his ass as it streamlines into another thin contour which separates his cheeks.
Jim shifts, squirming at the sudden arousal building inside him. It’s like a slow burning flame, but someone’s turning up the dial, adding oxygen to it. As he moves the material catches his balls slightly, grazing over the sensitive skin and he gasps. He’s sure it’s a gasp this time. Yeah, definitely a gasp.
“Jim?” Gaila calls. She’s standing in the doorway before Jim can pull his eyes away from his reflection. She catches him gawping and sees the blush that floods over his throat and right up to the tips of his ears and maybe she can smell the nervous excitement rolling off him in waves. She sees appreciation in his eyes. It’s like he’s looking at someone else, maybe someone he’d like to take home. “You do look great,” she agrees. “I didn’t know you had a thing for lingerie.”
“Neither did I,” Jim whispers, almost unconscious of the fact his mouth is moving and the words are leaving his head. “I mean, I don’t. I don’t. It’s weird,” he murmurs, “it’s just weird.”
“It’s not weird,” Gaila scoffs, “you look good Jim. You have a very thong-worthy ass.”
“I do?” Jim says, turning slightly to look down at himself over his shoulder. He’s sobering up, he can feel that much. But it doesn’t seem to dampen his arousal. Gaila’s trying to avoid looking at Jim’s erection, and Jim would do anything to shove the pink tip of his cock back inside the pastel-blue concealment. He doesn’t need to hide from Gaila though, he knows that. They’ve been friends for nearly three years. She’s seen him in every state imaginable, well, maybe not the sad states; those he keeps to himself. Or tries to. Sometimes Bones catches those moments.
Something else ripples through him at the thought of Bones catching this moment but Jim quickly shoves the thought away.
Gaila throws him his jeans from where they landed on the floor and he catches them in one hand, setting them over the railing, trying to search out his boxers. “Keep it, Jim,” she says gentle, with a little smile, “don’t think about it too hard.”
Jim’s instinct is to say thank you. But he frowns and hooks a finger into either side of the thong, pressing his nails into his hips to try and make the heat in his groin stop. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror again and groans. Embarrassed maybe, or frustrated… He pulls his hands away and grabs up the jeans again, pulling them on before he can change his mind.
Gaila looks appeased. Jim just needs to get out of there. He needs to get back to his room and into his own en-suite and he needs to wrap a hand around his cock until he forgets this whole mess ever happened.
#
Gaila doesn’t let Jim ignore the events of the night before, she doesn’t let him pass it off as a drunken fumble or let him sweep it under the rug.
“Kink discoveries are fun, Jim,” she grins, “you have to embrace it.”
“I hate you,” Jim pouts, but he lets her hand him a cereal bar and a glass of orange juice nonetheless. She doesn’t stop grinning.
“Let me take you shopping,” she encourages, “please?”
“No.”
“Please, Jimmy?” she’s pouting now, and Jim wishes he could snarl at her and walk away. But he can’t, because she’s Gaila and he adores her. Even if she is a pain in his ass… Or balls, if you’re going down a more literal route.
“I hate you,” he repeats and Gaila grins.
#
They get to a discrete little store on the outskirts of the Castro. It’s a classy little boutique-type place that Jim would never have expected to be a lingerie store from the outside. The place is dimly lit. Mood lighting, Jim decides. Or maybe it’s just to offer their customers a touch more discretion. Not that most people look for discretion when they’re buying lingerie, it’s clear by the way Gaila’s prancing around the store that she certainly doesn’t. Jim, on the other hand, is very thankful for it.
Most people probably assume he’s escorting Gaila on her dirty lingerie buying spree because he’ll reap the benefits of it later. Little do they know that half the things Gaila has slung over her arm are for Jim himself. She’s gone for simple but classy. Nothing too frilly, nothing pink or garish. Just a few select white pieces, another baby blue set, lace this time, and a deep jade set that would really stand proud against his milky skin.
“What the fuck is this?” Jim asks upon being shoved into the changing room. Gaila huffs and steps into the cubicle with him, closing the curtain behind her.
“It’s a garter belt, Jim.”
“Isn’t this all a little bit much?” Jim wonders.
“Why don’t you try it all on and see?” she counters. “You don’t have to buy it all.”
He tries on a white set first. It’s technically a thong but it has the addition of a bit of extra lace that tapers over his backside. Gaila helps him with the garter belt and then tries to encourage him into wearing the matching stockings but Jim shakes his head.
“I don’t want stockings,” he states.
“Are you sure?” Gaila asks, “they’ll really look lovely and the garter belt is useless otherwise.”
She turns him to face the mirror, standing behind him with her hands on his hips, chin perch on his shoulder.
“Look what it does for your waistline,” she says, running a finger over the material.
Jim definitely likes the look of his reflection.
“Does the white make me too pasty?” Jim wonders.
“No,” Gaila smiles, “it’s lovely.”
“You’d look better in white,” Jim counters.
“Hmm,” she considers, “not better, just different,” is what she decides.
Gaila ends up convincing Jim to but the lot. There are a few plain thongs, discrete numbers that he can wear for his own use whenever he likes. Gaila calls them pieces for self-love. She’s also made sure he has three complete sets, with the option of a garter or stockings with each one. These are for him to play with. To play in.
“We’ll have to find you an obliging young man,” Gaila grins.
“Please, G,” Jim whines. “Don’t do this to me.”
“I want you to have fun!” she urges. “Please let me try and hook you up.”
“Not someone on campus,” he instructs, “I don’t want this…”
“Getting out?” Gaila offers. “Don’t be ashamed of this, Jim.”
“I’m on the command track, Gaila, this probably isn’t very typical behaviour form future Captains,” Jim sighs.
“Okay,” Gaila sighs, “no one from the command track.”
That isn’t what he said, Jim realises belatedly, but at least it’s something.
#
Gaila likes Leonard. She thinks he must be something special if he can be enjoyed by both Nyota and Jim, usually it’s one or the other. But he, much like herself, seems to be able to interest and entertain both of them. It’s not unusual to find Leonard and his pretty nurse friend Christine in her dorm room, sitting on whatever available surface they can find to chat to Nyota about whatever’s currently holding their attention. Whether it be campus gossip or new academic discoveries.
The doctor is very pretty: he has full pink lips; high cheek bones; and hazel eyes that are swirls of fairy-tale colours and clichés. Christine is pretty too, but Christine has a boyfriend called Roger and Gaila isn’t out of the Terran loop enough to not understand that that means Gaila cannot make the advances she’d like to. Even if Christine blushes every time she looks in Gaila’s direction.
“Leonard,” Gaila begins, looking up from the warp core theorem textbook she’s been reading from to address him properly, “how do you feel about lingerie?”
“Ah,” he frowns, looking to Nyota for some sort of help or clarification before he looks back at Gaila, “I like it some, I suppose.”
“Only some?”
She watches the colour red creep up Leonard’s tanned neck. “Well, it’s mighty pretty I figure.”
“Hmm,” she agrees but says nothing else; just lets confusion flood the room.
#
“How do you feel about Leonard?”
“Bones?” Jim questions. “Uh, he’s great.”
Jim shrugs and returns to the article about Cardassian military regimes four decades ago, he’s not particularly interested in the article and the writing style is trite and off putting but it’s a useful means of learning tactics and Jim wants as much strategy in his arsenal as he can muster by the time he’s made a captain. Whenever that might be.
“Sexually I mean, Jim,” she clarifies, “please keep up.”
“What?” Jim squawks. “Bones?”
“Why do you sound shocked?”
“He’s my closest friend, G, you can’t go around wanting to bang your closest friend,” Jim stutters out. In his mind, it’s a perfectly sound answer but Gaila doesn’t look convinced.
“Friendship would make intercourse much more comfortable between the two of you,” she counters.
“I’m not gonna fuck Bones,” Jim states.
“I imagine he would be doing the fucking, Jim,” Gaila smirks.
Jim scowls at her, eyes squinted and brows furrowed. He’d stick out his tongue but she’d probably laugh at him.
“Bones and I aren’t like that, G,” Jim says, trying not to sound disappointed. He’s seen Leonard McCoy, Jim isn’t blind. He’s not a saint either and he’ll admit to having had less than appropriate thoughts about the doctor, with his huge hands and long, deft fingers… his big almond shaped eyes framed by long, dark lashes. He imagines his fingers and eye lashes aren’t the only long thing Bones possesses. But he can’t go there. He won’t.
“You could be,” Gaila says softly, “why restrict yourself.”
“Because some things aren’t worth ruining,” Jim shrugs, “I couldn’t risk losing his friendship.”
“But you care about him,” Gaila counters, “and he cares about you.”
“He doesn’t see me like that,” Jim assures her. “It’ll never happen.”
#
Jim thinks about Bones a lot after that—not that he didn’t before. But now he lets himself wonder. He thinks about what it might be like to kiss Leonard whose lips are plush and soft. Not like Jim’s chapped lips. Not at all. What would the pull of his rough skin be like against Leonard’s? He can’t help but wonder. Wondering is all he can do though.
Even when he’s alone in his dorm room, lying atop the coverlet of his bed wearing that beautiful powder blue thong, fit with suspender belt and a garter high up on his right thigh, reading Old Earth poetry like some new-age hipster. Even then, he doesn’t let himself do more than wonder. He doesn’t call Bones up and try to seduce him. Instead, he slips his hand under the cool satin material, revelling at how smooth it feels, and he takes his cock into his hand. He watches, grossly fascinated by the sight of the dark, weeping head against the pale fabric. He watches the material shift as he jacks himself, letting the fingers of his other hand trace the material of the garter.
He might be starting to agree with Gaila: kink discovery is fun.
It would be nice to share it with someone else though. There’s only so long Jim can look at himself in the mirror, turning around and around trying to catch every angle before he gets frustrated. He’d rather be on his knees with a cock in his mouth. Or rubbing his lace covered crotch against a strong, muscular thigh.
Bones has strong thighs. Nice and muscular. They’re thick in comparison to his narrow hips. They’re broad like his shoulders. Leonard McCoy is a walking wet dream and it’s starting to drive Jim crazy.
But Leonard couldn’t think of Jim in the same way, it’s just plain impossible. Jim is his cocky best friend, who spends too much time with his head either stuck in a book or up a skirt. Bones must know by now he could do way better. And anyway, from what Jim has seen, honey blonde and buxom is Bones’ type. Not lithe and dirty blonde. Wholesome not rebellious. Not jaded. He and Jim work so well as friends because they’re opposites in many ways, but Bones seems to be looking for a homely girl to make a life with; when he’s looking at all, which, admittedly, isn’t very often.
Even if Leonard were interested, it doesn’t mean he’s going to enjoy seeing Jim in ladies underwear either. Why did Gaila have to say anything? Why couldn’t everyone just let sleeping dogs lie? Jim’s kicked up the sand now and there is dust flying everywhere. He’s breathing it in. It’s inescapable. He’s not going to be able to put his attraction for Leonard McCoy back into a box and shove it under the bed. It’s gonna end up sending him insane.
Well, Bones has got a psych PhD.
#
It’s a few weeks later before Gaila brings up the subject of Jim’s love life again. Not to Jim, though. No. To Leonard McCoy.
“He’s very pretty isn’t he?” she asks.
“Who?” Leonard wonders, they’re in the library and it’s fairly empty. He honestly hasn’t got a clue who she’s talking about, there’s certainly no one ‘pretty’ currently occupying the room. No one other than Gaila, but she’s not vain enough to be talking about herself and besides, she definitely said he.
“Jim,” Gaila states, as if Leonard should have already known the answer.
“Oh,” Leonard scoffs, “yeah, I guess he’s pretty.”
“He’s single too,” she adds.
“He likes it that way, I figure,” Leonard says.
“Oh you do, do you?”
“Excuse me?” he turns towards her, looking confused.
“He’s much more commitment bound than most people give him credit for,” she says, “I’m ashamed of you Leonard, that you’d let him fool you.”
“Gaila, are you trying to set us up?” he eyes are carefully, squinting.
“Maybe” she shrugs, “you’d make a fabulous couple.”
“We’re best friends.”
“That’s exactly what Jim said,” Gaila sighs.
“He did?”
“Yes,” Gaila huffs, “even though he’s mad about you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Leonard snorts, “Jim Kirk isn’t mad about anyone. Jim’s too… I don’t know, too cool for that.”
“Hmm,” Gaila sounds unconvinced. “Well I think he’s decidedly uncool when it comes to you.”
Leonard sits beside her in silence, thinking over her words, thinking about what he needs to do with them. He’s always cared for Jim. It was almost instinctive, right from their first meeting on the shuttle. An instinct Leonard wouldn’t let go of or walk away from. He’s always cared for Jim. And sometimes, though unacknowledged, it’s been a little more than platonic friendship.
“He is pretty,” Leonard murmurs softly. To which Gaila smiles.
“Yes, he is.”
#
By the time he’s made it through the weekend Leonard’s thought about Jim, and more aptly what Gaila’s said about him, more times than is probably appropriate for an on-call surgeon. What if Gaila’s right? What if Jim does have not-strictly-platonic feelings for Leonard? He hates to go all psychiatrist on himself but he wonders exactly how the words make him feel. Excited, he thinks. Chuffed, maybe; and not as afraid as he might have been three years ago. Leonard cares deeply for Jim, maybe more than anyone else he knows apart from his Mama and his Grandparents. He’s not jaded from divorce like he once was, he isn’t trying to run from commitment like he’s been known to in the past. He wants something real. He really does.
Could he picture that something taking shape with Jim, though? That’s certainly a loaded question. But one to think about nonetheless.
Jim’s gorgeous: he’s got the blonde hair and the blue eyes; the lithe muscle coated in milky skin; he’s tall and his hands are expressive; his smile lights up even the dingiest dive bars… but he’s more than just a clichéd incarnation of a romantic leading man. He’s smart, maybe too smart; smarter than Leonard can keep up with sometimes, even though he has a PhD. He’s passionate too. Oh so passionate.
He makes Leonard laugh, which is a feat by anyone’s standards.
Leonard hasn’t thought about what he’s looking for in a partner for a very long time. But maybe, just maybe, Jim Kirk is it.
He should probably see how Jim feels about that first though.
#
It’s just a normal Thursday evening. Jim has invited Bones over for Chinese take-out and revision of the interstellar diplomacy module that Leonard isn’t too hopeful about passing. Jim’s aiming to teach him some tact – which seems completely ridiculous. Jim has about as much tact as a bull in a china shop but he does know how to bullshit and that’s all he needs to pass the exam really. He can use his natural charisma to fake charm and etiquette. Leonard’s supposed to be a gentleman; you would have thought he’d be able to manage that even better than Jim.
“Either way it’s a lie,” Leonard huffs, setting down his PADD in favour of more chow mein.
“It’s diplomacy, Bones,” Jim smiles, “it’s just the way it goes.”
“It’s a stupid exam.”
“It is," Jim agrees flippantly, "but you need to pass it in order to graduate."
"I do," Leonard acknowledges.
"So let's go over these a couple more times and see where we end up, then we can have a couple of beers and forget it all again and live happy in our ignorance," Jim smirks.
"You sure you don't wanna go out tonight?" Leonard offers, because even though it's a Thursday it doesn't mean Jim Kirk hasn't already got extracurricular activities planned that include a bar and some pretty ladies.
"No," Jim assures with a shake of his head. "We're good for the evening, and no classes until mid-afternoon tomorrow."
"A couple of beers sounds good then," Leonard agrees.
Somehow, though, the evening feels different to their usual study dates. Leonard feels more on edge; Gaila's words circle around his brain like sharks: unpredictable and ever-ready to strike. Jim is pretty. It's all Leonard can damn well think about. It's all he can see every time he looks at Jim. Big blue eyes, messy golden hair. He's a walking wet dream and now Leonard's going to be driving insane by it. Those pouty pink lips and and a bone structure sharp enough to draw blood.
Leonard hasn't noticed anyone like this since before his marriage. He was trying not to. But now Gaila's brought it to his attention he can't help but let his eyes wander of Jim. It's just looking, though Leonard can promise himself that. No touching. None whatsoever.
"You okay, Bones?"
"Huh?" Leonard frowns, having completely zoned out.
"I think you're finished with the studying part of tonight's menu," Jim chuckles, "I'll get those beers."
Leonard spares a second to contemplate whether or not it's a good idea to imbibe with Jim when he's feeling like this. This being mostly—hell, completely and irreversibly—turned on.
"You do that," Leonard agrees.
They only have three beers each, or maybe it's four. It's certainly not enough to be the sole explanation as to why they're suddenly sitting so close together; cross-legged on the floor, facing each other, heads dipped in low like they're sharing secrets when all they're really doing is laughing at a half-asses joke Jim told about six minutes ago.
On second thought, maybe they've had five.
Not even twenty bottles of beer could explain what happens next. The sloppy slide of lips and the messy clink of teeth as they both surge forward into the kiss. Leonard's hands go straight for Jim's hair, all lush and blond and too much of what he's been missing these last few years.
Jim sucks at Leonard's lower lip and let's his hands roam over the broad expanse of the doctor's chest. Leonard rises up on his knees and pulls Jim up with him, pressing their torsos together and nudging his thigh in between Jim's legs. They rut for a moment or two, hips frantically swaying back and forth, before Leonard pulls away. Both men are panting. Both men look dumbly shocked. Like they never knew this was even a possibility.
"I should go," Leonard says, voice rough and deep and filthily Southern that Jim can feel his pants growing even tighter.
"Should you?" Jim counters, unashamed and unrepentant.
"If we want to do this we should do it when we're sober," Leonard murmurs, letting his hands slip down from Jim's hair, down his shoulders and over his ribs until they settle at his waist.
"I'm not drunk," Jim counters.
"Jim," the doctor warns.
"No," Jim starts, "you're right."
"Let's just—let's let this sink in first before we take it any further."
"That's fair," Jim agrees, "it's sensible."
"Because you're my best friend and—"
"I know, I know. You're mine to. We can't fuck that up," Jim nods.
"Exactly."
"You should go."
"Yeah," Leonard nods. They both look like two bobble heads that have just been shaken by an irritating child. Nodding stupidly. But soon enough Leonard gets up, helping Jim to his feet as well before he turns and leaves.
This is all Gaila's fault.
#
Leonard decides to go back early the next day. They don't have class yet and it'll give them a chance to clear the air before they go out with Gaila and Nyota tonight. Leonard hopes Jim doesn't just sweep it under the rug and mark it up as a lucky escape but he's prepared himself for that outcome. Best friends don't necessarily make good boyfriends. Leonard is gonna just have to brace himself and roll with the punches.
Which is easier said than done when you walk into your friends dorm room and they're parading around in nothing except a white t-shirt and a pale blue thong.
"Jim?"
"Bones!" he squeaks, throwing himself on the floor beside the bed. But it's too late, he can't hide now, Bones has seen him. "You broke into my room?"
"I learned from the best," Leonard replies, not sure whether he should step further into the room and investigate Jim's choice of attire or whether he should respect Jim's obvious desire for him to leave.
"You're not meant to—I mean, I don't usually—Gaila dared me!" is the excuse Jim finally settles on.
"Oh," Leonard nods, "well ah, it's good that you're, um, holding up your end of the deal."
"You know me, Bonesy, never one to back down from a dare."
"Right," Leonard nods. "You can probably come up from the floor now, though."
"No," Jim counters, "no I cannot."
"I wanted to talk about last night," Leonard begins.
"Let's not, shall we?" Jim says, shifting on the floor, trying to push back all the thoughts and images that race through his head pertaining to last night, thoughts and images that are definitely motivating the blood to run South. He so doesn't need this. His life is already majorly unfair as it is.
"Oh," Leonard repeats—sounding disappointed this time. "Oh okay, if you—"
"No, Bones, wait!" Jim calls, sitting up on his knees to keep what little modesty he has left. "It's not that I don't wanna talk about last night, I do, you know what? I think I'm gonna need a repeat of last night, a few, even. Just not now."
"Because you're wearing a thong," Leonard surmises.
"Yes," Jim nods. "I just—it was a dare, but it kind of isn't anymore, but I—" Jim stops himself before he says anything ridiculous. "I'm just working a few things out."
"Okay," Leonard says, relieved. His voice is softer now, understanding. "I'd better get to class," he murmurs, turning back to the door, but not before he says: "don't worry, Jim, it looks good on you."
#
All Jim can think about for the rest of the day are Leonard's parting words: it looks good on you. Fuck, that's all he's wanted to hear since the first time he twirled for himself in the mirror of Gaila's en-suite. In that deep, gravelled drawl that Leonard masters—a voice that makes men with more strength than Jim Kirk wobble on their feet—that drawl that speaks of desire and appreciation and lust.
Lust.
Fuck.
If kissing Leonard wasn't enough to finally send Jim over the edge of friendship and fully into want-to-screw-him territory, the fact that Leonard might also share Jim's penchant for women's lingerie definitely is. More than enough.
Jim needs a cold shower.
#
They don't talk about their little tête-à-tête when they meet again that evening with a few other cadets, namely Gaila and Nyota who both look as radiant and ready to kill as always. Gaila takes Jim's hand and so Leonard offers his arm to Nyota. She smiles and obliges his spark of gentlemanly sentimentality before dragging him to the bar for something to drink.
"I think Jim and I might have sex," he admits.
"What?" she demands. "I didn't even know you—"
"Like men?" he supplies. "Down in the South we learnt the hard way not to discriminate," he smirks, "Jim's pretty much spot on for my type. I just, I wasn't lookin' I guess."
"But now you are?" she prompts.
"We kissed last night," he admits, "an' I'd like to do it again."
"And he's down with that?" she asks.
"Yeah, we talked about it this mornin'. I uh, I kind of walked in on him unawares."
"What do you mean?"
"I shouldn't say anything," Leonard shakes his head, "but I think we might have a few things in common that I hadn't thought about before. Or, well, not in common... Different. But compatible."
"That sounds good," Nyota ventures. "Confusing, but good."
"I just hope he wants to be in it for the long run, I'm not much good with one night stands," Leonard sighs.
"If there's one good thing I can say about Jim Kirk," she pauses so the two of them can share a look. There are hundreds of good things Nyota could say about Jim Kirk, but she won't. Not aloud at least. "It's that he's loyal, he adores you Leonard and if he puts as much energy into a relationship as much as he does your friendship then you'll both be fine. And probably exhausted."
"A man can dream," Leonard grins, letting his gaze wander back to Jim, who is dancing with Gaila on the dance floor. "He really is pretty," Leonard murmurs to himself. Maybe he should send Gaila some flowers. Or Orion moonshine.
#
Jim didn't plan to bring Leonard back to his dorm. But Leonard's cheeks were flushed from the heat and from the bourbon when they left the bar and Jim couldn't resist. They didn't even make it through the front door before Jim got his hands on Leonard's still rosy red cheeks and dragged him in for a filthy kiss. Their lips are liqueur tinged and chapped but their kiss is warm and wet and it gets their pulses racing.
"Jim," Leonard huffs, pulling away. They stare at each other for a moment, Jim waiting to hear what Leonard has to say. "We're not gonna leave it like last night, are we?" he questions, brushing his fingertips over the back of Jim's hand. "I want more than that, Jim. I want more of you."
"You can have it all, Bones," Jim breathes, "Christ, just—let's get inside."
Leonard lets Jim tap in the security key and push open the door, but that's as far as he lets Jim get before he pulls Jim back into his arm and lifts him off the ground, walking them backwards into the room and nudging the door closed with his shoulder. Jim wraps his legs around Leonard's waist, arches his spine back and moans at the friction. Leonard lets out a dirty chuckle and mouths at Jim's throat, licking and nipping until Jim is whining like a needy animal.
"Put me down," he growls, "shit, Bones, put me down on the bed and fuck me."
So Leonard does just that. Because really, how could he say no?
They tug and pull at each other's t-shirts, drunk fingers fumbling with belt buckles and jean buttons. But they get there eventually; Leonard is completely naked, trying to help Jim shimmy out of his too-tight skinny jeans.
"These are a fucking health hazard," Leonard growls.
"Let me," Jim smirks, kicking each leg off in turn before hooking his thumbs in his boxer-briefs and pulling them down as well.
"You're not—" Leonard shakes his head, stopping himself from saying anymore.
"I'm not what?"
"You're not wearing them," Leonard whispers, ducking his head and blushing.
Jim looks at his discarded boxers and realises what Leonard's talking about. "Oh," he starts, "I er—I don't usually... It's, it's just sometimes."
Leonard smiles, gentle and understanding; but his eyes darken as he grazes the back of his hand over Jim's chest, "maybe one of those sometimes could be with me?" he suggests.
"Really?" Jim questions, confused at the look of blatant desire in Leonard's hazel eyes.
"You looked real good, Jim," Leonard assures him, "they, ah, they suit you."
"Maybe I'll show you them again tomorrow," Jim whispers, pressing his lips to Leonard's jaw.
"I'd like that," Leonard murmurs. He wraps one of his huge, surgeon's hands around Jim's cock, dragging it up from the base and flicking his thumb under the head. Jim lets his head roll back, bucking his hips forward.
"There are condoms in the drawer," Jim gasps, "and lube."
It doesn't take long for Leonard to lean over and grab them, they're on the top of all the junk Jim has stashed in his drawer, no doubt because of how frequently they're needed. Once Leonard has rolled the condom over his own cock, he slicks himself up and squeezes a dollop of lube over Jim's cock to ease the friction. The doctor jacks them both simultaneously, watching for every minute twitch and hitch of Jim's features, watching as the pleasure almost becomes unbearable and Jim takes hold of Leonard's wrist.
"I want to feel you inside me," Jim pants.
"Jesus, Jim," Leonard puffs out a breath, guiding his hand under one of Jim's thighs to give them enough leverage to flip them over until Jim is straddling him. Leonard holds his cock steady while Jim reaches back to slick a lubed finger into himself. Soon enough, when Jim deigns himself ready, he sinks down onto Leonard, groaning at the delicious fullness.
Leonard has to grit his teeth to stop himself from thrusting up into Jim. But Jim can see how desperate Leonard looks and smirks, clenching around him until the doctor whimpers.
"You're gonna kill me," Leonard warns, setting his hands on Jim's hips to try and establish some sort of rhythm.
Jim has no intention of killing Bones; he just wants to make the man come. Again and again and again.
#
Jim wakes up with Leonard wrapped around him. The doctor's forehead is pressed between Jim's shoulder blades, he has one arm slung over Jim's waist and the other hand is above their heads, twined with Jim's. The younger man could easily stay here, enveloped in his lovers arms, for the rest of the day. But Jim has big plans for the day.
And he's gonna need to start getting ready soon if he wants to be sufficiently dolled-up for his surprise before Leonard wakes up.
He slips out of the bed, making sure it doesn't rouse Leonard before he slips into the bathroom for a shower. He grooms himself as usual, towels his hair dry and puts on a bit of aftershave. After that, the only thing left to do is make a decision on what attire to wear.
A decision that makes him nervous and excited at the same time. Anxious butterflies. What if Leonard isn't so keen on the idea now that he isn't drunk. What if he just wants the thong and everything else is too much.
"Whatcha lookin' for?" Leonard says, slicking behind Jim, warm hands cupping his ass and warm lips pressing kisses along Jim's shoulders.
Jim tries to close the drawer but Leonard isn't as sleep-slow as Jim might have hoped. The doctor holds open the dresser drawer and peers inside.
"Jesus," he breathes, "am I still asleep?"
"What?" Jim frowns, confused.
"I gotta be dream in'," he chuckles, taking his hands off of Jim to reach into the drawer pulling back a white lace garter belt. "Do you have stockings?"
"How are you so nonchalant about this?" Jim scoffs.
"Definitely not nonchalant, darlin'," Leonard smirks.
Jim's eyes travel down Leonard's body to his half hard cock.
"We're fucking made for each other, Bones," Jim grins.
"Who knew," Leonard snorts.
"Gaila apparently."
"Always said she was a crazy-intelligent woman."
"Okay let me put this on," Jim says, pulling the material out of Leonard's hand and twiddling it between two fingers. "Garter or stockings?"
"Both?"
"That doesn't look right," Jim shakes his head, smirking. "Either or, Bones, don't be greedy."
"Garter," Leonard decides, reaching back into the drawer, "do these match?" he wonders, lifting out a white lace thong.
"Who knew you'd have an eye for lingerie," Jim nods, taking the proffered panties and grabbing his white garter.
"I'm full of hidden talents," Leonard smirks.
"I hope they include blow jobs," Jim jibes.
"You'll have to wait and see," Leonard shrugs, leaning forward to kiss Jim before pulling away again. "I'll make some coffee."
"I'll get dressed."
"Ordinarily, I'd object," Leonard jokes.
"Ordinarily, I wouldn't even suggest it."
#
Jim's a vision in white.
A dirty, sexual vision, but a vision nonetheless; and Leonard wants to fuck him until neither of them can remember their own names. Or see straight. Who needs vision, anyway?
Jim walks tentatively, like an unsure doe in the forest. But Leonard isn’t a poacher; he’s a man who’s fast falling in love with his best friend. Jim smiles coyly, letting his narrow hips sway, fiddling with the garter to keep his hands busy.
“You look beautiful,” Leonard whispers before taking Jim’s hands in his and gently bringing him closer. The compliment makes Jim's heart flutter. God he's become such a praise whore. Leonard seems to think the vanity is quite becoming though: his hands carefully travel over Jim’s ribs and settle on the top hem of the suspender belt, nails scratching over the material, fingers pressing the lace into Jim’s skin. Jim spreads his legs slightly and leans onto Leonard’s thigh, dragging the front of his crotch over Leonard’s bare skin; the mesh of lace the only thing that stands between them.
And fuck if that isn’t incredibly arousing.
Leonard tugs Jim closer, holding on to the back of the garter belt with both hands; they rut like over-zealous teenagers. But this isn’t the scene of two adolescents coming in their jeans. This is sensual and erotic; although Leonard is determined to make Jim come once, or maybe twice, before he actually fucks him.
Jim can feel the soft lace against his straining cock; he’s leaking precum all over Leonard’s hip and thigh but he doesn’t care, all he cares about is the feeling of Leonard’s hand pulling at the material of his garter belt, fingers tracing its journey over the sides of the thong and down the left leg to where the garter encircles his thigh.
Leonard sinks to his knees with a dull ‘thunk’ and Jim almost loses his mind when the doctor begins to press hot, open-mouthed, wet kisses to his lace-covered cock. When Jim's fingers fumble to pull down his panties Leonard swats his hands away, yanking the garter out of the clasps with his teeth and kneeling up higher to tongue the constrained head of Jim's dick.
"I'm gonna come," Jim whimpers, "fuck, Bones, I'm gonna come."
"So come then," is all Leonard says, chocolatey, golden-green eyes looking up at him adoringly, finally pulling away the material to swallow his lover's cock.
Jim chokes, feeling Leonard hum approvingly around his cock. His knees turn to jelly and he comes, fingers gripping tight in Leonard's thick hair.
"Oh fuck," Jim breathes, "fuck, fuck, fuck," he continues to hiss.
Leonard just looks up at him and smiles.
"We have all day, Jim," he smirks, fingers still clasped around each side of the thong's t-bar, "enough time to see every single pair, I'd imagine."
Jim makes a weak noise in this throat.
It's not Bones who's gonna end up dead, it's him.