recklessheroism:
he’s mesmerized by bones’s eyes. his face. every line & curve fascinates him. he finds himself staring more often than he’s willing to admit. it’s not right, bones is his friend. his chief medical officer. he needs to get a grip, focus.
he remembers this for a moment — but promptly forgets when he feels bones’s hands holding his own. for a moment, he’s confused. but then he feels an object being pressed to his palm, & he’s brought back to reality.
eyes moving to their hands, he blinks in surprise. “ what — what’s this? ”
“It’s-” He stops speaking abruptly, a crease forming in his brow. Leonard has the uncanny ability to sense something amiss miles away, and while he may not yet know what’s going on now, he can tell Jim’s not quite right.
“You alright, Jim?” If the Captain’s not careful, his behavior will usher in the doctor’s kit, and all manner of gadgets and tools meant to make him suffer. If Bones catches even the barest whiff of a fever about Jim, there’s nothing on this entire ship that’ll be able to stop him.
He moves just a little closer, into Jim’s personal space, moving a finger about a little as if to see if those blue eyes will track it. He’s already begun.
Has the rain gotten worse? Jonathan couldn’t tell. Maybe it didn’t even matter, seeing as he was already soaked. But at least the repair shop was coming into view - that was his first stroke of luck tonight.
Jonathan knew it was there before becoming deviant. Never gave it another thought until now, when his owner took out his right optical unit with a lacrosse stick.
It was hard to see, and thus, hard to run away. Jonathan hoped this repair shop would have the necessary biocomponents to fix the damage. So, after making the best sweep as he could around the empty night street, Jonathan ducked into the alley behind the repair shop, looking for a back door.
“sometimes just making it through the day makes you a hero!” she’s seen plenty of people just make it through the day when it was already tough - sometimes it just meant that they were hiding from whatever was hurting them.
Leonard had made his fair share of assumptions in his life, but this was getting ridiculous.
It began with a passing observation made by his mother, towards the end of his days in Starfleet Academy. Perhaps he had no one but himself to blame—at the time, he admittedly spoke far too much about Jim.
In his defense, their roommate situation often plagued Leonard’s thinning patience. Who the hell else was he going to complain about? Especially the nights that Jim made too much fuss before exams. You may as well have asked Leonard to walk on his hands.
It had gone like this, and in retrospect, Leonard should have realized this was the defining moment that he was fucked.
“—and if you come back down to Georiga, Len, you oughta bring that darlin’ boyfriend of yours—”
“I’ll try to catch a bus there, Ma, but I can’t promise— Hold up. Boyfriend? I’m not datin’ anyone. Jim’s my roommate.”
A similar mistake occurred following their first voyage into space, when Starfleet students murmured the return of the new captain (you know, the one whose father sacrificed himself for all those people) and his boyfriend, the new chief medical officer (you know, the grouchy one).
And wasn’t that just the cherry on top? To be known not just as someone’s boyfriend who he was very much not dating, but as a grouch. When Jim had flashed his stupid, bright, far too endearing smile at him, he wanted to punch him in the face.
Years later, Leonard could not shake off the fairly common speculation. More than once, he questioned whether there was a sign on the back of his shirt informing everyone to treat him with as much tomfuckery as possible. It was to his greatest despair that he realized these presumptions spread because of him, and not a sign.
Matters were quickly about to worsen, and it was in moments like these that Leonard truly wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Leave nothing but a single hair for others to wonder what happened to their poor chief medical officer, you know, the grouch.
Leonard stood in front of Jim, expression contorted with disbelief, surprise, and bubbling frustration. Narrowed eyes wandered the room, whose interior decoration reflected wealth you’d find only in the richest of homes back on Earth. In the center of the room, covered in soft furs and pillows, was a bed. A single bed. One. Fucking. Bed. With flowers, whose yellow and blue hues may have been enchanting were it not for their implication.
“You’ve gotta be f— They gave us the same room, Jim. Everyone else got a separate room. Hell, Tabora and Walters got separate rooms and they’re goddamn married.” Leonard stomped and paced around the room, as if needing more emphasis to convey his astonishment. “And it’s not just that. They thought we were married. We haven’t been on this planet for more than a few hours!”
A delicious smoothie is a really easy way of taking on lots of amazing skin boosting ingredients and was my first port of call every morning in the run-up to my wedding - I'll throw in frozen berries, banana, spinach, almond butter, almond milk, and oats for a quick breakfast quite often.
“ of course, kiddo! i don’t mind at all, it’s fun for me too. ” he smiles, glancing over at them. “ spock & data will be fine. for people who don’t show a lot of emotion, they sure do worry a lot. ” he’s only joking, of course, as indicated by the teasing look in his eyes. “ it’s just ‘cause they care. but believe me, this bike will be perfectly safe by the time we’re done with it. ”
before warren had come to understand subtle expressions, they might’ve been offended on spock’s && data’s behalf. now they see that jim is teasing && roll their eyes in agreement. “ i know they do, && i appreciate it. it’s just a little weird is all. ” the last part comes out a bit softer, && they distract themselves with the engine at hand. they normally don’t like talking about how foreign family is to them, but jim gets it. “ i know ! i can’t wait ‘till were done ! ”
It was meant to be a time of relaxation, yet Aella had still be encouraged away from spending her time in her quarters, working. So here she was, in a public place, attached to her PADD -- reading and drinking theris-masu, rather absorbed in her book.
Thus, when Aella glanced up to give pause to the words she had read, she could not have calculated how long the person leaning over her table, staring at her, had been there.
“Hello,” she said, evenly, despite quite instantly feeling at unease -- an unease she hoped did not translate on her face.
“Hey there, pretty lady. What’s your name?”
Pretty lady? Her breath came in shallow. “Lieutenant Aella Moore.”
“Lieutenant, huh? You’re from that fancy ship that’s docked here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sir? Wow, wow, wow... how nice of you...”
It had been habit, nothing more, that had called sir to her lips -- and now crimson touched her cheeks in discomfort as one of his fingers reached out, began to draw circles around the back of her hand. She felt herself frozen in shock. He was touching... her hand. He was touching...
“You’re a Betazoid, aren’t you? Betazoids have such beautiful eyes...”
