BUGS YOURE ALIVE!!! Could I bother you for some McKirk? Maybe some bed sharing?? For uh...mission related reasons? Accidental cuddling?? If it's not too much trouble?? Do these emojis help?? 🛏🤣🪶💘
Anything for you beloved!!!!
Suite-Hearts
Bones thinks defecting might genuinely be better than this.
He’s not twenty anymore, the sight of his best friend shirtless doesn’t fluster him the way it used to, but it’s still…a lot, given the circumstances.
Circumstances being the honeymoon suite in one of the most notorious casinos in the galaxy, a room that couldn’t possibly be big enough for all the feelings that Bones had to fit inside of it.
The room is beautiful, granted—the entire far wall is a floor to ceiling window onto the glittering city lights below. Every inch of the place is plush in a way Bones can appreciate, even if it reminds him vaguely of a padded cell. Stocked mini bar, soundproofing--even a built in white noise stereo. The hotel had been sweet--they’d decorated the place with little hearts and champagne bottles, committed to celebrating the newly engaged couple they’d checked in as.
But again. The circumstances.
“Are you gonna glare at me over there all night?” Jim huffs and crosses his legs on the bed. He plays with his hair, still stringy from the shower.
“I hate this.” Bones clenches and unclenches his fists to stave off the urge to pace. He tears down one of the paper hearts from the ceiling and crumples it instead.
“Yes, you’ve told me. Repeatedly.” Jim sighs and leans forward, balancing his chin in his hands. “Honestly, Bones, I don’t bite. This isn’t much different than the Academy.”
“Uh-uh. We had bunks in the Academy.”
“Bunks that we rarely slept apart in, usually. What’s up with you?” Jim drifts over, pretty eyes sloped with concern. The full brunt of the hotel’s fancy pine soap hits Bones.
“Nothing.” Bones keeps his gaze on the floor.
“If you hate sharing that much, I’ll try and swing a separate room for you. We can pretend we had a fight or something. I’m sorry.” Jim squeezes his bicep. Bones’s mouth sours at the apology. Jim isn’t apologizing for the room, he’s apologizing for his presence. Bones knows that tone of his and he despises it.
“It’s fine. I’m just…not the best for these kinds of things.” Bones pinches the bridge of his nose. Guilt swirls and claws at the base of his stomach, making swipes at his throat to try and close it.
“It’s just for a few days. You’ll never have to do another espionage mission again, scout’s honor.” Jim fumbles his way through the boy scout salute.
“You were never a scout.” Bones huffs, but the promise soothes him some.
“Semantics.” Jim tries to crack his back a few times. “Want a drink?”
“Your back.” Bones furrows his brow. Jim makes a dismissive noise, scoping out the selection of whiskey and gin on the bar.
“Lay down.” Bones shoves Jim onto the bed with a eyeroll he doesn’t bother to hide. Jim squeaks as he hits the mattress and bounces higher than he expects—gravity’s just a little weird here and Bones can’t figure out how to work the in-room controls.
He climbs up after Jim and settles heavily on his thighs. Jim grunts a little and Bones affectionately swats the back of his head.
“M’fine. Really. I’ll go to the spa or something.” Jim hides his face, suspiciously shy, but Bones doesn’t press. Jim talks when he wants to.
“I’m not letting you waste money on that frilly shit. You want a free massage or not?” Bones gives his arms a fond squeeze. Jim nods, then deflates.
“Where?” Bones reaches for the massage oil. He makes a face at the gaudy and suggestive label before pouring some into his hands. He rubs his palms together to warm it, breathing in the notes of lavender, sandalwood, and something else he can’t quite place.
Jim makes a noncommittal noise into the mattress. Bones chuckles and smooths his hands up Jim’s back.
Massage therapy had been an optional Academy course but it had always been one that Bones enjoyed. It took a certain amount of trust in a stranger to allow them to know your body in that way. Bones wanted to be that stranger for people, he still does.
And with Jim, well—what isn’t better with him? That’s comically, cosmically, the problem. Bones knows nearly every atom of Jim’s being, even the ones Jim hides from himself. That’s their deal. They are bonded halves, binary stars, and they care for one another. Even when they drive each other insane.
“Pressure okay?” Bones hums, working into a stubborn knot near Jim’s shoulder. Jim moans and dissolves into the bed.
“Quiet down. You’ll make people think we’re really getting a use out of this room.” Bones’s face grows painfully warm as Jim makes another terribly distracting noise. It dissolves into a chuckle. Bones squirrels the entire thing away into a private corner of his brain.
“S’rry. Feels good,” Jim mumbles, pressing his face further into the mattress. Bones chuckles and continues his work.
“Stop squirmin’,” Bones huffs, working his way up the back of Jim’s ribs. Jim wiggles around a bit but doesn’t say anything.
“If I’m hurting you, you gotta say somethin’.” Bones leans down and murmurs, stilling his hands. Jim makes a string of noises, attempts to shake his head into the mattress, then settles on waving his hand around dismissively.
“Whatever you say.” Bones snorts and smooths his palms over Jim’s warm, soft skin. He finds his lower back and starts over, working his way back up, then down, and up again. The rhythm of it takes them both.
“Doin’ ok?” Bones hums, leveraging his elbow into Jim’s lower back.
“I’m in love with you,” Jim sighs, then groans, nothing more than a puddle of captain. Bones swallows the surge of emotion in his chest and concentrates on maintaining appropriate pressure of the elbow.
“Sorry. For the next few days, I’m a taken man.” Bones skimming his fingers slowly up Jim’s back. Jim shivers and grabs fistfuls of the blankets. He traces patterns between mottled scars and freckles, a little lost.
Jim twitches again, muffling something high-pitched into the mattress. It does, admittedly, take a minute for Bones’s brain to catch up, but once it does…
He slides his fingers ever-so-gently up Jim’s sides, over the back of his ribs, taking great care to wiggle against the ridges of his shoulderblades. Jim jumps, turning to admonish him, but Bones is back to the charade. He works his thumbs into Jim’s shoulders, then squeezes--just above the collarbone.
“Well h-he’s a lucky guy--holy shit--”
Jim shrieks, high-pitched and frantic, and totters off into a flustered flurry of giggles. Bones has never in his life heard him make such a sound, not even when drunk.
“What--”
“Bones--” Jim flips over and levels a threatening finger.
“--was that?” Bones smothers his laugh in his fist, but it bursts free when Jim’s face flushes adorably pink.
“You surprised me.” Jim crosses his arms and pulls a face. Bones raises an eyebrow.
“I surprised--c’mere.” Bones starts tickling him in earnest now, nipping fingers chasing each sensitive spot he’s come to learn over the years. Jim dissolves in his hands, giggles quickly graduating to full-on laughter.
“B-Bohohones!” Jim shoves lightly at his shoulders as he laughs, bright and bubbly. Bones uses the opportunity to slip his hands up to Jim’s collarbone again, giving another squeeze into the muscle just above. Jim flails, his knees slamming into Bones’s back--ow--and and descends promptly into a highly-entertaining octave of desperate laughter.
“How on earth are you this ticklish and alive?” Bones muses, skittering his fingers back to Jim’s stomach for something of a break. Eventually, he just pats Jim’s stomach and swings off of him.
“I’m never letting you forget about this. Every time you’re being annoying I hope you think of my hand right here,” Bones grins, resting his hand on the spot. He tries not to read too much into the clear giddiness on Jim’s face.
“Oh, you bastard,” Jim gasps, eyes positively sparkling. “I’m going to get you back for that.”
Yet, Jim does nothing but flop back against the bed. The extra high bounce shakes a few stray giggles loose.
“I’m sure you will.” Bones pats Jim’s head. Jim shakes him off, grumbling under his breath. Bones snorts, squeezes Jim’s shoulder, and trods off towards the bathroom, ignoring the indignant screech behind him.
…
Bones wakes up warm, beautifully so. Jim’s arms wind around his torso and keep him close, strong and secure. Some soft and content part of him wants to lean back into it. He’ll never get tired of waking up like this.
Bones turns slowly so he can see Jim’s face. He looks so different asleep. Younger, maybe.
Bones allows himself another thirty minutes of drifting sleep, letting Jim’s gentle snores guide them into the late morning. The room chimes a soft tone around ten or so, warning them of their impending loss of breakfast privileges. He has half a mind to ignore it, but he doesn’t really know what they eat on this planet. Jim can be picky as hell when he puts his mind to it, and they’re both useless when they’re hangry.
Bones starts breaking Jim’s hold, maneuvering him gently. The sleepy whining is par for the course, but the fingers worming into his sides? That’s certainly new.
“J-Jihim.” Bones clears his throat. “Let go, ya sleepy lug.”
Jim makes a soft noise and cuddles closer, decidedly not following instructions. Bones keeps tugging, but the more he pulls, the more Jim decides to tickle. Jim finds a spot on his stomach that makes Bones choke back a squeal, shaking both of them with unreleased laughter.
“Damn pehest. Two can play at that game.” Bones huffs. He starts poking at his ribs, still gentle, as he wiggles closer to the edge of the bed. Jim smiles and starts chuckling, his hold loosening. Bones worms his torso out of the octopus grip and starts slowly untangling their legs. He gets about halfway there before Jim grabs his leg and starts reeling him back in.
“Jim--”
Jim smirks and opens his eyes. Oh. Oh no.
“Gotcha!” Jim cackles, pinching at Bones’s thigh with reckless abandon. Bones screeches, his voice cracking hopelessly. Jim flops on top of him and starts tickling wherever he can reach, taking extra care to revisit his stomach.
“Y-You absolute—“
Thump.
Bones’s back collides with the plush carpet, along with a few throw pillows. Jim catches himself at the last minute with a yelp.
“Are you okay?” Jim laughs and peers at him over the edge of the bed. He offers a hand to help Bones up.
“I hate you.” Bones glares up at him. His lips twitch as he tries to resist the smile that’s already consumed him. He swats Jim’s offered hand away, then smacks him with a pillow for good measure. He goes to get ready for the day--someone has to be the adult here--but Jim grabs him by the waist and pulls him back into bed.
“I love you too.” Jim gazes down at him with an unbearably goofy smile. Bones rolls his eyes, but his face is warm, so embarrassingly warm. Bones goes to get up, Jim shoves his hands under Bones’s arms, and round two sufficiently costs them any hope of breakfast.
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