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Jim hadn’t realized before the myriad of emotion or expression that one person could wield in their hands, until he’d noticed Leonard’s. The first time he noticed said hands also corresponded with the first time he’d actually met the man they belonged to, as strong fingers extended a proffered drink-flask while aboard a Starfleet shuttle. It didn’t hurt that Leonard was very easy on the eye, albeit a little scruffy and stubbly upon their first meeting.

Jim had swiftly become fascinated by Leonard’s hands, soon becoming accustomed to the weight and feel of them upon him in Sickbay. He watched as Leonard ran swift, sure and confident fingers against various parts of his body, wielding hyposprays like they were weapons. Given the nature of the person holding said hyposprays, Jim was halfway convinced that, to Leonard, they were exactly that.

He’d watched while Leonard ate in the mess hall, long fingers gripping knife and fork and lifting food laden cutlery up to his mouth in rhythmic motions. He’d long since memorised the way that those same fingers curled about an ancient leather bound book or PADD alike, sometimes stroking thoughtfully against page or screen whenever the doctor was musing on something. He’d taken note of how one hand would rise to curl about chin and mouth while Leonard paced upon the Bridge, fingers stroking thoughtfully against pursed lips.

Jim couldn’t help but notice the way that Leonard’s fingers seemed to linger upon him, stroking companionably against back and arm alike, as though Leonard couldn’t help himself from touching Jim whenever possible. Sometimes, Leonard would touch him even when it wasn’t usual to do so, long fingers splayed against Jim’s arm to catch attention that was already his. Jim had also noticed that the doctor did not accord that same familiarity of touch with anyone else.

Jim had long since lost track of when his fascination for Leonard’s hands soon transcended to the man himself and the strong, confident way that Leonard carried himself through life aboard the Enterprise. Jim knew that he was perhaps the only person to see beyond the barking, angry doctor facade to the very gentle man hidden just beneath and made a promise to himself that he’d capture the buzzing energy of Leonard and keep it for his own. Leonard had proved very easy to court, soon capitulating to Jim’s special brand of charm where all others had failed with the doctor.

Soon, Jim discovered there was more to Leonard and his hands than he’d first imagined. Where they’d been expressive, strong and confident before, they turned sensuous and gentle in the bedroom, fingers caressing against Jim’s back whenever they cuddled, cupping Jim’s chin when they kissed. Those same fingers seemed to dance across Jim’s naked skin, sending lightning-bolts of aroused energy throughout every part of Jim’s system whenever they made love. Leonard’s hands were insistent, inescapable, moving instinctively towards every part of Jim’s body that felt good, as though Leonard had mapped out those spots a million times before. Those hands were capable of undoing everything that Jim was and gluing him back together in a shuddering, shivering mass of nerves, swirling over every intimate part of him until Jim thought he couldn’t take any more.

Naturally, Jim couldn’t resist Leonard, never even entertaining the notion of denying him a thing or straying. That thought alone often gave Jim pause; after all, he’d never stayed with one person longer than a night before Leonard, and had often thought that was all that he’d wanted out of life. In that, Leonard had proved him wrong, leading Jim to muse that all it took was one Southern doctor’s strong hands to finally hold him down and keep him, fingers convincing him to stay forevermore with loving pressure.