#i feel like there isn't enough len which doesn't even make sense but i'm needlessly hard on myself that's just who i am i guess

[samingtonwilson]

7 Things Said on Leonard’s Couch

Summary: Leonard McCoy’s couch is host to many conversations.

Warnings: language

A/N: first vignette style fic with len! i wish i liked this a lot more. there are parts of it that i love, though

one

It’d been a long day.

Between chasing after Jim to make sure he would actually attend his physical and admonishing Jim for making you chase after him, you were exhausted. You needed a long shower, an even longer nap, and the absolute longest break.

But, of course, being a physician aboard the Enterprise meant your showers were never long enough, your naps were far too short, and breaks were infrequent. You had to find relaxation in the little things and your favorite thing to find relaxation in, or rather on, was Leonard’s couch.

You were seated at the far right, your back against the light grey armrest and your legs outstretched before you. You’d abandoned your boots in the corner of his quarters long ago, spreading your toes and contracting them only to repeat the process with a little more wiggle each time.

Leonard’s eyes stayed on your hands, though. From where he sat at the far left, seated the correct way so his feet were flat on the ground, his eyes didn’t waver from the bright red liquid in your glass. He watched as the disgusting, overly sugared sports drink sloshed against the walls of glass on one side, then sloshed against the other with each of your small movements.

He wanted to reach out and snatch the glass away, he wanted to dump the drink down the drain. Sure, he could argue he was dumping it for your own good— that many grams of sugar per serving could never be canceled out no matter the electrolytic value— but he really wanted to dump it for fear that his light grey couch might bear a bright red stain, a stain he would never get out no matter how obsessively he scrubbed at it.

You brought the glass to your lips, taking a long sip but ultimately only taking down a cubic centimeter of its volume.

He sighed in discontent, his leg bouncing in agitation.

“Something wrong, Len?”

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, the hazel distant and pinched with worry. He shook his head, muttering unconvincingly, “Tired is all.”

Once he finished talking, his sharp gaze went right back to your glass. He watched as you turned it in your hands, watched as you purposely let the liquid move from left to right, watched as you had the audacity to swirl it as if it was expensive wine and not a drink football coaches would be bathed in after a successful match.

Your suspicions were confirmed when you lifted the glass to your lips again. You sighed and lowered it without taking a sip. “I thought you said this stuff’s disgusting.”

He scowled, his gaze still fixed and pointed. “It is. S’like downin’ an entire jar of sugar.”

“Then why are you staring at it like it holds all the wonders of the universe?”

“No reason.”

You shrugged a shoulder, still thoroughly unconvinced but you decided to let it go. It wasn’t until a small drop dribbled down the outside wall of the glass, splashing unnoticeably against the couch cushion beneath you that you finally understood his problem.

“That’s it!” he shouted, pushing his tired body from the sofa and snatching the glass from you. “No more fuckin’ neon drinks on this couch! You’re stainin’ everything!”

Of course, he should’ve realized the violent movements of his hands would send what remained in the glass spilling all over his blue uniform tunic, creating a much bigger stain than you probably ever would. But it was too late.

He didn’t scold you when you laughed, though, he only chuckled with you as you threw your head back and tears slipped from the corners of your eyes.

two

Three hours ago, you planted yourself on Leonard’s couch, right in the middle with your legs folded onto the surface. Three hours ago, you fired up your PADD and pulled up a novel Jim had begged you to read months ago but you’d blown off in the name of irritating him as much as possible. Three hours ago, you began staring at the screen with a forgotten plate of browning apple slices beside you and sat almost perfectly still, save for your scrolling finger.

Leonard had gotten a lot done in that amount of time. He’d tidied up his bed, scrubbed down all the dishes, wiped down every surface, and folded all of his laundry. He would glance at you every few minutes, though, hoping you would set the goddamn tablet down and look at him, or talk to him, or just pay him the slightest attention.

He knew you liked his couch— you claimed it was far cozier than the couch in your quarters as the fabric was insanely soft and the cushioning was so fucking fluffy. He had just always held out a little bit of hope that maybe it wasn’t the couch you liked so much— maybe it was his company. You were around one another all day anyway in the medbay and, during meal times and shore leaves, you never strayed too far from the group of friends you’d made during your Academy days— a group Jim always called the dream team as it consisted of the captain himself, Leonard, you, a preliminarily reluctant Uhura that would now lay down her life for any of you, and a still very reluctant Spock.

There was always a part of him that thought those signs pointed towards you liking him as much as he’d always liked you. With your loud laugh, quick-witted sense of humor, and total lack of ability to take shit from him or anyone else, you were exactly what he needed and he thought maybe you’d see and understand his characteristics and realize he was exactly what you needed, too.

There was a corny, cheesy, cliche part of him that found comfort in the whole alternate universe thing Spock Prime explained to you all years ago as it meant there was another version of him somewhere, in some reality that had you, that got to love you as openly as this reality’s Leonard really wanted to. But he continued to hope that somehow the universe the two of you ended up together in was this one— he would’ve given anything for that.

But your infatuation seemed to be solely with his couch, the time display now indicating you’d been seated in the same spot for four hours.

He decided enough was enough. With a slapping of his hands against the freshly polished counter he stood behind, he gained your attention easily. He frowned. “Sugar, don’t you think you should be gettin’ up soon?”

“Why?”

“‘M not lookin’ forward to having a you-shaped dent in my fuckin’ couch cushions for the rest of our time up here.” He sighed. “You need activity.”

You looked back down. “Reading is an activity.”

“Activity involving movement.”

“Listening to you lecture me is creating a lot of downward movement right here,” you answered, pointing to your lips that were now weighed down in a frown.

Despite himself, Leonard cracked a smile and snorted. “Get the fuck up, time for dinner.”

“Where are your Southern manners? Where is that Southern hospitality?”

“You’re leavin’ an ass print in my couch. You don’t deserve Southern manners or hospitality.”

three

The away mission was supposed to take less time than it did. It was meant to be a quick trip down with the intention of resupplying a sorely lacking Federation hospital with some of the many medical tools on board neither you or Leonard thought twice about keeping— after all, they needed it more.

But, because the attack-prone border planet was so remote and so cut-off from the many advances every other planet now relied on, the two of you and your many overly-competent nurses stayed put for hours just teaching the hospital staff the basics of each tool and what to do if one of the many rogue Klingon attacks depleted them of any necessities, like electricity.

It was safe to say you were standing on weak legs the instant you were beamed back. After the debriefing Leonard thought was nothing short of completely useless, he guided you with whatever strength he had remaining to his quarters and didn’t have to ask twice for you to make yourself at home.

He replicated a nice mug of coffee for himself and an even nicer mug of peppermint tea for you, the steam warming the cold tip of your nose as soon as you took the blue ceramic vessel from him.

He sighed as he sat back, tipping his nose upwards so he stared at the ceiling. “What if they run out of supplies sooner than we anticipated?”

“The Bradbury’s heading in this direction— should be passing by here in, like, two months time,” you said, the tiredness caking your voice surprising to the both of you. “Could just warp over if need be.”

He turned his head to look at you, your own head tipped back like his but your eyes shut. “Darlin’, you sound exhausted.”

You lifted your tired lids and face him as well. You traced the lines on his face that were more pronounced with his own state of burnout, his dark hair messy and his eyes dull. “That’s because I am exhausted.”

He nodded, straightening out his position and pointing towards your legs. “Put ‘em up here, come on.”

You lifted your head only to tilt it questioningly.

“Put your legs on the couch, sweetheart. If there’s one thing these legendary hands are good for, it’s an excellent foot rub.”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

four

Jim sat across from you, his elbows on his knees and his chin upon his palm. He tilted his head as he looked at you, blue eyes wide and filled with enough concern to drown you and the rest of the Enterprise crew. He didn’t say much, though. He just took random sips of his drink and nodded every so often.

Leonard sat beside you, his arm draped over the back of the couch so he could run his hand up and down your upper arm or give your shoulders a squeeze if need be. His gaze never left your red-rimmed eyes, your trembling lips, your restless fingers. He didn’t say much either. He just clenched his jaw in anger and loosened it each time you looked his way.

His hands were made for healing. Everything he’d been taught in medical school, during his residency, his fellowship, and his years in Starfleet Academy pointed toward only using his skills to mend, to treat, to fix. But right now, as he saw tears leave your eyes and hiccups break your breaths, he wanted nothing more than to use those same hands to hurt the person that had the nerve to leave you like this.

But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t overstep, he couldn’t intervene, he couldn’t impose a permanent solution on a temporary problem— it wasn’t his place and he knew that, especially when it came to the goings on of your family back on Earth. It was only his place to comfort you, to listen to you, to be there for you— and that’s what he did.

“Move into my place when we get back,” Jim suggested, smiling a little when you scoffed. “I’m serious! I keep the place clean, I’ve got premium cable, I cook—”

Leonard snorted. “You can barely boil water.”

“Okay, well, I can order takeout,” he amended, laughing when you cracked a smile. “We’ll change your number, too. Maybe even your name. Keep you totally hidden.”

“Then we’ll burn your fuckin’ fingerprints off and get you a new social security number,” Leonard added dryly, rolling his eyes. “Go the full nine yards and pay for plastic surgery. No one’ll find you.”

You finally laughed, the sound taking Leonard’s scowl and practically flipping it. You sighed then, rubbing your tired eyes. “Tell you what, I’ll take you guys up on that the day the government finds all the bodies I’ve buried in Golden Gate Park.”

“What about the ones in Half Moon Bay?” Jim asked, a single thick eyebrow raised.

“They’ll never find those,” you winked, shaking your head. “Fuck, I’m so tired.”

“Sleep here.”

Your eyes found Leonard’s, trying to find a hint of humor over his features as you blinked moisture away. “What?”

“Sleep here,” he shrugged. “You said you didn’t want to be alone and it doesn’t have to be on the couch, I can take the couch. You just need to sleep, sweetheart.”

“Can’t sleep in the bed with me, Len?” you asked with a tilted head and a small smile, that glint in your eyes he loved so much causing his stomach to flip. “Afraid you’ll join the bodies buried in Half Moon Bay?”

Jim, watching the two of you with a grin, nodded at Leonard when the latter glanced his way. If he had it his way, he’d be lighting lavender scented candles and turning on some mood music before leaving. Something to get the two of you to go at it already.

five

You were due to depart the Enterprise in less than an hour for a well-deserved shore leave and your sense of urgency increased tenfold with each passing second.

Leonard had never seen you like that before. Hair wild, eyes wide, lip bitten. Each time you cursed loudly and whimpered, he needed to shift in his seat and look away. It didn’t help that you were bending over the couch every few seconds, clawing at the cushions and kneeling to look under the light grey piece of furniture.  

When you set your hands against the edge of the couch one last time and bent as you lifted a cushion, he traced the arch of your back, the swell of your bottom, the length of your legs. After what felt like hours, he sighed loudly and covered his lap with a throw pillow. It was all too much.

“Sugar, did you ever think it might not be here?” his voice sounded rougher and heavier even to him. He cleared his throat. “D’you check your own quarters?”

“It’s here, Len,” you said in a breathy voice, moving back so you could kneel.

He really didn’t need you to be kneeling so close to that… region right now. He shifted again.

“I was wearing it last night when I feel asleep—”

“While I was talking.”

You smiled apologetically, your eyes growing wider as you looked up at him. You bit down on your bottom lip again and he thought he might combust. “Did I apologize for that yet?”

“You did,” he nodded, leaning forward to lean his forearms on the pillow in his lap. Your noses were close enough to brush together as he said in a soft voice, “It’s just a necklace.”

You leant away, scoffing. “Don’t show me those stupidly beautiful hazel eyes to try and convince me that finding my necklace isn’t important!”

“They’re not that stupidly beautiful,” he said with a wave of his hand, his smile a little smug. “Darlin’, we ain’t gonna make the last shuttle if you keep this up.”

“I lost a necklace to this thinly cushioned bed of rock, Len! I need to find it! It cost me—” you paused. “Well, it didn’t cost me a lot but it’s mine and I want it back!”

“I’ll buy you a new one, just stop bendin’ over the fuckin’ furniture and get to movin’ off this floatin’ disease incubator.”

six

You were laughing at something you’d just said, your head thrown back and your eyes squeezed shut. Your hand sat atop your stomach and your giggles shook the walls of the room and the walls in Leonard’s chest.

He felt himself begin to laugh as well. It wasn’t because what you said was so funny, it was just the sight of you so full of joy that made the laughter contagious.

When your giggles were far less frequent and far lower in volume, you lifted your head and wiped under your eyes. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t even funny. I don’t know why I amuse myself so much.”

“Somethin’ in the air bein’ circulated might be making you delirious.”

You smiled wider. “Very reasonable suggestion. I should confront Scotty.”

“Yell at him when you do,” he said with a nod. “The man’s terrified of you.”

“Is he really? Good, he should be.”

“He’s just never heard you singin’,” he noted, smiling when you sent him one of the scowls he usually offered you. “He hears you singin’, he’ll never be afraid of you again. Tone deaf as shit.”

“Excuse me? I’m the next Whitney Houston.”

“Next who?”

“It’s classical music, Len. Widen your horizons.”

There was another few minutes of back and forth until the two of you grew silent. It was a comfortable silence during which all he could think about was living in a comfortable silence with you for as long as he had left. However in order for that to be anywhere near possible, he’d have to tell you how he felt. He’d have to get past all the uncertainty forcing him to live in fear from the moment he met you years ago until now, he’d have to break down every wall he’d been building up from the moment he’d filed for divorce until now.

But he felt ready to do it all.

“I might,” he began, sighing and shaking his head to himself. “It’s possible that—” he sighed once more. “I… have feelings for someone on board. Significant feelings. Feelings I thought I wasn’t goin’ to be capable of since my divorce. And they’re— I need to talk about ‘em.”

seven

You nodded— twice. You smiled at him a little.

But you didn’t know what to say. Part of you was afraid to encourage him— he could say something that would break your heart to the point that each beating in your chest would force you to double over. And part of you would have jumped at encouraging him— that part of you thought he could say something that made you feel so full, so whole that any subsequent happiness would seem insignificant.

With some prompting from Jim, you’d begun to realize your feelings for Leonard were never really going to go away. No matter how many people you dated, no matter how many people you convinced yourself to like, those feelings were here to stay.

Maybe it was his kindness, maybe it was his dryness, maybe it was the drawl of his voice— whatever it was, you couldn’t stand the idea of ever kissing someone that wasn’t him, ever saying you were in love with someone that wasn’t him. It all seemed impossible.

When he didn’t speak and only stared at you expectantly, you smiled again. “Who is it? Is it Jim? I saw the hearts in his eyes while you guys ate lunch together.”

“S’not Jim, sweetheart.”

“Is it Uhura?” you asked, nodding upwards. “She’s hot. I mean, you guys barely talk and she is with Spock—”

“Darlin’ —”

“Is it Spock?” your eyes widened. “He’s hot, too. It’s just the whole Uhura thing and the volatility in your relationship—”

With a lean in your direction, he captured your lips with his. One of his hands sat against the side of your face and his other clasped around your hip to prompt your movement.

When the cloudiness in your mind and feeling of finally in your veins subsided a little, you listened and moved to straddle his lap. You sighed into his mouth when his arm wrapped around you tightly, the roughness of his hand against your face combined with the softness of his lips creating a warmth you’d never experienced before.  

He broke away first, smiling as you followed his lips and sat back with a pout. “Sorry. I needed you to shut your mouth for a quick second so I—”

“Could’ve just told me to shut up.”

“I practically just did that and you’re still talkin’,” he laughed, shaking his head. He then sighed and searched the depth of your eyes with the eyes that only held a thin ring of hazel around dilated pupils. “In case it’s not obvious enough now, I was talkin’ about you, darlin’. I’m so in love with you.”

#i really really do wish i liked this more #i feel like there isn't enough len which doesn't even make sense but i'm needlessly hard on myself that's just who i am i guess #leonard mccoy #bones #leonard bones mccoy #WHY DOES HE HAVE SO MANY NAMES #bones mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #bones x reader #bones imagine #leonard mccoy imagine #mccoy imagine #mccoy x reader #star trek imagine #star trek