Leonard likes to think that it was an accident, the first time he left the door to the bathroom open.
Whether it actually was or not isn't really important. Just that he likes to think it was one, if only for his peace of mind.
Because he was never into voyeurism, before. Half the time he'd felt uncomfortable undressing himself with the lights on when Jocelyn was in the room, back before things went to shit and they'd had to sleep in separate bedrooms just so they could live in the same house.
But then one night, too tired from a triple shift at the clinic to care, he'd stumbled into the bathroom and started stripping off his scrubs. It wasn't until he had glanced in the mirror that he even realized the door was open, and he'd quickly turned and closed the door.
And if he'd seen the look on Jim's face and gotten himself off in the shower thinking about it, no one would have to know.
Jim's never thought of Bones in a sexual way until now. He'd known Bones was a handsome guy—had recognized it in the peripheral sense—but…well, Bones was Bones, handsome or not. And Jim has found that it's kind of hard to think of a guy as handsome when you've seen him at the end of a weeklong binge (and been threatened with vomit. Can't forget that).
But then one day he's sitting on the couch watching a holo, and Bones trudges into the apartment, grumbling a soft hello before making a beeline for the bathroom. And Jim can't help but watch him, partly because he's a good roommate and Bones looks like he's tired enough to somehow drown in the shower, and partly because there's just something ridiculously funny about watching the man stumble around, cursing at inanimate objects that he's too groggy to dodge.
When Bones finally reaches the bathroom, he doesn't shut the door. He just starts stripping off his shirt, and Jim opens his mouth to catcall, but then…wow.
Jim's seen Bones work out, before, so he knows the man's got muscles and all. Still…he's never actually seen that muscle before—Bones is always wearing loose clothes or the bright red monstrosity of a cadet uniform that even Jim can't quite look good in (and Jim looks good in everything he's ever worn ever).
But, uh, it turns out that Bones is totally ripped. Jim's pretty sure he could bounce a quarter off those muscles, and do those biceps look positively lickable, or what?
Then Bones shimmies—shimmies, with a little butt wiggle and everything—out of his pants and boxers, and Jim has seen some fine asses in his life, but he's never seen such a full ass on a guy in his life. It's the kind of ass that it just seems criminal not to grab.
Except that…well, y'know, this is Bones. Bones who has never shown any sexual desire for anyone (not even Gaila, for Christ's sake), who is a bitter divorcé with a tongue like a dagger, who has glares that make young cadets cry, who just isn't a sexual being, who…
Definitely just realized Jim is staring and shut the bathroom door.
Jim flinches in retrospect, and begins the long, arduous process of going back to thinking about Bones as Bones, instead of this inherently sexual man beast that has suddenly and totally without Jim's permission replaced Bones in his mind.
It's times like these when Jim questions his 'no such thing as a no-win situation' philosophy.
The second time…well, the second time might be a little intentional, on Leonard's part.
It's late and he's grumpy, but grumpy is his default emotion. He comes in to Jim stretched out on the couch, looking thoroughly debauched, his hair sticking out at odd angles, his lips pinky and puffy, a tiny little lipstick stain just barely visible at the edge of the collar of his shirt.
A normal day for James T-is-for-Tomcat Kirk, it would seem.
Leonard isn't quite sure what about this situation rankles, because to be honest he's pretty sure that debauched is Jim's default emotion (or maybe smug, or flirtatious, or looking-for-a-fight), but something about seeing Jim like that tonight makes his hackles rise.
He knows that saying something will just get him into some sort of awkward trouble, though, and he's always figured it's best to fight fire with fire.
So he mutters something in the way of a greeting and goes to the bathroom, nudging at the door with his foot so that it looks like he meant to close it and just didn't manage to get it all the way shut. Then he yawns and stretches, hoping that the crackle of his bones popping will garner Jim's attention (a quick glance at the mirror tells him it does).
He's trying to remember how Jocelyn used to do this—he'd liked watching her get undressed, and he can understand now the appeal of being on the other end of this game. He remembers the way she would cross her arms and grasp the bottom hem of her shirt, then pull it over her head so that it caught on her breasts, making them bounce enticingly when they pulled free. He doesn't have breasts, of course, but Jim isn't looking at his front, either.
Instead, he reaches back and grabs his collar, so that he has to bend forward a little as he pulls the shirt off (he remembers Jocelyn commenting a few times on how nice his ass looked when he bent over in his scrubs, so that the fabric was pulled taut across it).
Then he tosses the shirt in the general direction of the clothes hamper, stretching again like he's got kinks in his back and shoulders and neck (and he does, so it's not entirely for show).
He toes off his shoes, then leans over to peel off his socks and throw them away, too. Then he turns a little, so he's almost in profile from Jim's perspective, and unties the pants of his scrubs, pushing them down his legs in a slick movement that he hopes doesn't look as intentional as it is.
Now dressed in only his boxers, he yawns and scratches his hipbone in a way that pushes the boxers down a little.
He almost pulls his boxers off, too, right there for Jim to see. But he's already getting a little hard, and he's pretty sure he's starting to blush, and after a moment's hesitation he loses his nerve and walks farther into the bathroom out of sight to take the boxers off and start his shower.
To make up for it, he doesn't try to quiet himself when he jerks off in the shower.
He hopes he isn't making up the answering groan he hears from the living room.
This…thing is starting to become a nightly ritual, and Jim isn't sure how he feels about that.
On the one hand, his dick is happier than it's been in ages. He's never gotten such vivid fantasies just from watching someone undress, before—especially when he's not actually having sex with that someone—but his right hand is happy to oblige (maybe that should have been 'in' the one hand. Hm), and his orgasms are stronger than they've been in a while.
On the other hand…this is Bones. Bones is his bestest best friend—his drinking buddy, his doctor, even his savior in a lot of ways. And he might not have had all that many best friends in his lifetime, but he knows you aren't supposed to lust after them, and you aren't supposed to look into their eyes and see forever (wait, what?), and you definitely aren't supposed to find excuses to be in the living room when they come home and take a shower so that you can watch them undress and then jack yourself off while you listen to them jack off.
Also, at the risk of sounding sentimental and whatever, Jim really doesn't want to lose Bones to…well, to his dick. He knows himself, knows that he relishes the challenge but rarely sticks around to reap the rewards, knows that once he's got Bones he won't want him, anymore.
And he really likes Bones, okay? After all, who else is gonna give him booze without asking for anything more than a friendly ear in return? Who else is gonna kick his ass into gear when he's being phenomenally stupid about something? Who else is gonna hypo the shit out of his neck, purportedly for his own good? Who else would ever in a million years stick around for this long after they've seen him at his lowest point, when his adrenaline-chasing and bar-hopping and girl-fucking become less of a way to pass the time and more of a way to destroy himself before someone else can? When his smile and mask fall and all that's left is…Jim, with all of his faults and scars and flaws?
No one, that's damned well who.
Besides, Bones would probably think it was freaky-weird and bitch at him for ages (if he didn't just take off entirely), because Bones—once-married or not—is, like, so innocent to some things that it almost hurts. There's no way Bones knows what he's doing to Jim.
Tonight, Leonard locates his balls.
(Not like he hasn't always known where they are—they're kind of attached to him and all—but, well. Never mind. He locates his metaphorical balls.)
He'd long since gotten over the boxers thing, mostly because he'd (metaphorically) slapped some sense into himself. Jim's a guy. With guy parts. So it's not like he's never seen a penis before, even if it's just his own (and Leonard can tell you, after too many cases of Jim being overly sharing about his sex life, that Jim has seen lots of dicks besides his own). And Leonard's been naked in front of…plenty of people (his wife, guys in locker rooms, a few past girlfriends and boyfriends).
Anyhow, he's over that.
Tonight, though, he's gonna take this a step farther than even the boxers.
He feels stupid, because he's been planning this since this morning, when he picked out his oldest uniform to wear to classes. It's worn and loose from too much wear, and the zipper comes undone by itself more often than not, like it's allergic to staying closed or something.
But, hell. After next month, after graduation…chances are, he's gonna finagle a post right here on good old Terra Firma, and Jim'll probably sneak onto a starship if the Admiralty decides to prove just how far up their asses their heads are and don't assign him to one, which means Leonard doesn't have a lot of time left.
And he's well aware that it's kind of pathetic, okay? Because he knows that if Jim takes him up on this…whatever it is, they won't have enough time to get too caught up in it before they have to part ways. And if Jim doesn't take him up on it, or only takes him up on it for one night, it won't be long before they never have to see each other again. He's not sure if that makes it a win-win situation or a lose-lose situation, but he's almost completely positive that it's a now-or-never situation, either way.
So. Metaphorical ball location. Planning. All that bullshit that makes him feel like a thirteen year old girl dolling herself up to impress her first crush.
Jim's on the couch when he gets back from his late-night lab (Advanced Xenobiology II), and he says "Evenin' Jim" even as he heads for the bathroom.
"Hey, Bones," Jim yawns, not really looking away from the holovid he's watching.
"Did you already eat?" He asks.
Jim blinks and looks up at him. "It's, like, almost ten. Haven't you eaten, yet?"
He leans against the frame of the bathroom door, letting his hip jut out a little. "Had to drop off some things at the clinic and didn't really get a chance." And here's the first reason he chose this uniform—he can set his index finger at the top of the zipper and push it down with a small amount of force.
Jim's eyes widen ever-so-slightly (Leonard has never, ever casually undressed in front of him. At least, not without pretending to be tired and in the relative safety of the bathroom), and he gulps. "Oh. Um, well. I could maybe go for some pizza?"
"Sounds good to me." Reason number two: it's heavy and loose enough that if he stands up a little straighter and shrugs his shoulders, it slips right off in an effortless motion that he hopes looks sexy and unintentional at the same time. From the way Jim's Adam's apple bobs up and down, he figures it at least manages the first. Then he takes his shirt off the way Jocelyn used to, arms crossed and uncrossed in a swift movement that allows him to show off his abs to Jim for the first time.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll, uh, call it in while you take a shower." Jim's voice sounds pretty breathy, in Leonard's opinion. He takes that as a good sign.
He undoes the snap of his pants, then puts his hand on his hip so that his index and middle fingers dip under the fabric. "And don't you dare get a goddamned meat lover's—you can at least pretend you're trying to eat healthy."
Jim rolls his eyes in exasperation (or maybe he's just trying to tear his eyes away, suggests a particularly optimistic corner of his brain). "Yeah, alright."
There's a standstill for a moment as Leonard toys with his pants zipper, his eyes meeting Jim's. When Jim doesn't look away, he says, "You checkin' me out, Jim?"
Jim jumps, like he actually thought Leonard hadn't noticed (how could Leonard not notice?), and has the good grace to blush. "Uh, no, I—"
"'Cause I don't reckon I'd mind too much if you were."
Jim's jaw actually drops, but Leonard doesn't give him time to recover—just smirks, arches an eyebrow at him, undoes the zipper, and disappears into the bathroom.
He wonders if Jim noticed how hard he is.
Jim notices, right before Bones shuts the bathroom door, that the other man is definitely, definitely hard.
He gapes at the door for a moment, then looks back at the holovid more out of shock than because he's actually considering watching any more of it. He hears the shower start, and what sounds like the metallic rungs of the curtain as they slide across the curtain rod. He licks his lips, watches a car explode onscreen, and then starts to move.
He stands and walks over to the bathroom, only hesitating for about half a second before he opens the door and enters.
"Thought I heard you."
Bones hasn't gotten in the shower, yet; is stepping out of his boxers when Jim closes the door.
"You've been doing this on purpose this whole time." Jim realizes even as he speaks.
Bones turns, mouth and eyebrow quirking up in tandem. "You've been awful slow about it this whole time."
"Oh, come on, do you actually think that someone could leave the bathroom door open that many times on accident?"
Jim opens his mouth to say something, but that's when Bones decides to turn around and step into the shower, turning back and glaring at him like Jim's done something extraordinarily idiotic.
"Are you joining me, or are you just gonna watch?"
"I'm—yes. Hell yes." Jim says, and starts to strip down with none of the finesse that Bones did (and who knew that Bones had any finesse at all about this sort of thing? Jim sure as hell didn't, and he'd have appreciated a warning). He has to kick his leg to get it free from his pants, but he's already starting for the shower, practically launching himself that last few inches so that he can latch his lips onto Bones'.
Bones reaches behind him and half-heartedly tugs the shower curtain closed, unwilling to break away from him entirely to get the job done.
"So you…knew I was…watching?" Jim asks between kisses, groaning as their pelvises grind together.
Bones nods, tangling his fingers in Jim's hair.
And a thought wriggles its way into Jim's brain, then, making itself heard and causing him to pull away and cock his head to one side thoughtfully. "And you…you got off on it, didn't you?"
That blush could be from the steam, but Jim likes to think otherwise. "Yeah. Yeah, I did." And Bones tilts his head up, maybe in defiance, maybe in hopes that Jim'll kiss him again.
But Jim steps back, instead, regarding Bones with half-lidded eyes. "So show me."
"Show you?" Bones frowns.
"How you got off on it."
Bones blinks at him, then lets out a moan that might actually be more of a whine and bites his bottom lip. He holds Jim's gaze as he reaches down and wraps his hand around his dick, though his eyelids flutter a little.
Jim leans back against the wall, his breath hitching as Bones follows, putting a hand on the wall beside his head to brace himself. "You were jerking off to me all that time."
Bones grunts, either in agreement or in answer to the sharp tug he's just given to his cock.
He tilts his head up and kisses Bones again, and when Bones makes this panting noise against his lips he lets himself go to his knees so he can get a closer look at the pleasure Bones is giving himself.
"Fuck, Jim, don't—I'm gonna, gonna," Bones sputters, and shouts when Jim just grabs his hips and pulls his dick into his mouth. "Jim Jim Jim goddammit Jim—"
Bones comes long and hard into Jim's mouth almost as soon as it closes in around the head of his penis, and Jim pulls back, tongue peeking out to lick up any cum that might have dribbled out of his mouth.
"Fuck, Jim…Jim…" Bones says, body following pliantly when Jim stands back up and pushes him back under the spray of water.
Jim kisses him again, the water and steam making it hard to breathe through his nose. "Can I fuck you, Bones?"
"Yes." Bones nods. "God yes."
Jim turns the other man around and pushes him so his hands are braced against the tiles again. Water's no good for lube (he would know), but he doesn't really have the time (well, actually, the patience) to go fetch some from his bedside drawer, so he grabs a bottle of soap from the shelf and uses it.
One finger, two; his presses his lips against Bones' back in open-mouth kisses as he adds a third, but by the time he'd usually add a fourth he's so hard he can't see straight.
"Just do it," Bones says—Jim is too far gone to wonder how he'd known when he was thinking, so instead of asking he pulls his fingers away and lines up his dick and pushes in and, oh, God.
Jim wraps one arm around Bones' waist, the other covering Bones' on the wall as he twists his hips. "You're so fucking tight, Bones, Jesus Christ, I can hardly move."
"So fuck me harder, goddammit, I'm a doctor not a—like that, yes, fuck."
"I didn't think you'd be this vocal during sex." Jim says with a grunt.
"Wasn't always—angle to the right—fuck, fuck."
"Bones, I, I," and Jim comes with a long, desperate moan.
They finish showering (well, they start showering, and then they finish), then dry themselves and each other off and fall into Leonard's bed almost literally, facing each other even though their legs tangle together.
"Bones, you never said anything." Jim accuses, his voice bordering on a whine, quiet and pleading.
"Neither did you." He says. "I figured you would have if you were interested."
"So this whole…leaving the door open thing was…was like a way to see if I was?"
He shrugs somewhat helplessly, trying to smile but grimacing instead.
"Bones, I thought you weren't interested in anyone."
"Not in anyone but you." He says, and wishes it didn't sound as desperate as it did.
Jim is quiet for a moment, then drops his head onto Leonard's shoulder. "Why now, huh? Next month we're graduating, and we both know the chances of us getting assigned to the same place are…"
"Nil." Leonard finishes for him. "I figured…if you rejected me, we wouldn't have to be awkward with each other for much longer. And if you didn't…I'd still get to be with you and not feel too much when you left."
"I'm not gonna fuckin' reject you, Bones, you've gotta know I couldn't…" Jim lets out a shaky breath and licks his lips again. "And no way this can be a one night stand."
"I guess." Leonard says. "But even if we got into a relationship…you know you're no good at those, Jim, so don't pretend otherwise. But we can't hurt each other too bad if we have to be separated…if Starfleet does it for us."
"And what if I don't want to separate? We're already in a goddamned relationship, Bones, even if sex hasn't been part of it until now."
"You can come with me. You're so much better than you used to be about flying; you'll be fine, you—"
"You could stay here. On Earth."
Jim recoils, and Leonard can feel his face fall as the other man looks up at him. "Bones, you know I…"
"How can you ask me to go with you when you aren't willing to stay with me?" Leonard asks.
"We'll come back, Bones; we can always come back. But we can't…if I don't go now I'll miss out on everything I've worked for for the past three years. I'll miss out on the Enterprise post Pike's been hinting at, and…"
"I know, Jim. I know." Leonard feels drained, suddenly. "Let's just…we'll talk about this later, okay?
"Yeah." Jim says quietly, pressing their foreheads together. "Will you at least come help me with the Kobayashi Maru, tomorrow?" He grins weakly. "Since I've studied your ass, and all?"
"God, you're so stupid." Leonard chuckles, but kisses Jim's nose (because that's easiest to reach) and says, "Yeah, kid. I'll come watch."
"You'd better participate, too." Jim says, laughing when Leonard pushes him away. Leonard rolls him over and then pulls him close so that Jim's back is tucked against his chest.
"I don't think that'll be a problem."
Jim turns so that he doesn't have to watch Bones walk away, and jumps a little when an arm laces through his. There's an exasperated look on Bones' face, but he's pulling Jim away from where they were standing like he's got some sort of plan.
"Come with me." Bones says.
And he does.
A/N: Where did that plot come from? >C I didn't give this porn permission to develop a plot, goddammit, Jim!
Well, anyhow: Happy Birthday, jim-and-bones!