IMAGINE LEONARD MCCOY BEING WOKEN UP IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS SLEEPING SHIFT TO ASSIST IN A MEDICAL EMERGENCY AND HE ARRIVES IN SICK BAY STILL IN HIS LOOSE CHECKERED PAJAMA SHORTS AND BAGGY STARFLEET ACADEMY SHIRT WITH HIS HAIR ALL ASKEW AND THE ENTIRE MEDICAL TEAM HAS A COLLECTIVE HEART ATTACK
ok i had to draw the thing
hiii still planning to draw almost human comics <3
I want Bones in glasses, thick and black rimmed, and with a red flannel top and a bit of scruff and old worn jeans and a couple day’s worth of scruff and a scowl on his face. It’s fall and he’s tucked away in a musty corner of a little coffee shop, completely involved in his medical textbook, and his permanent grimace never falters but the blond ordering at the counter can’t look away.
Jim had never been to this coffee shop before, and he’s got a scarf wrapped around his face to protect from the slight chill outside, and he was planning on going right back out but now he thinks he’ll stay and go through every one of his astronomy textbooks if he has to just to stare at the brunet if he happens to stay.
And when Jim squeaks his chair out and arranges his cappuccino and textbook so he can sit and peek blue eyes out over the book, he realizes that he’s never really thought much of glasses before. He wears his own rarely, they’re a bit frustrating and clunky but they do the trick, but right now, the frames on the other man’s face are unnecessarily attractive, along with the rest of him.
And this goes on for a few weeks, and Jim’s never been so well read, until one day when the man’s scowl actually begins lifting, just a bit more each day, until one afternoon he’s giving a small smile and a raise of an eyebrow, hazel eyes locked with blue.
And later that night, those damn glasses are bouncing up and down Bones’ nose, hair spread out on the bed beneath him, breath coming out in broken gasps as he’s filled and filled and filled again by the blond’s girth, and Jim still can’t help but stare.
so of course now all i can think of is chubby!jim
It was Diorama Day. Jim loved Diorama Day.
This wasn’t hard to tell considering that his happened to be at least twice as big as everyone else’s. It had had little light up stars, twirling comets on strings, and even the planets rotated. It was a thing of beauty, and Jim couldn’t help but be proud.
That is, until he heard the other students from a couple seats away, chirping at him.
"You know, Kirk, most people just give the teacher an apple if they want to suck up, but I’m guessing you ate them all," one freckly jerk sneered.
"Is that brown on your nose, Kirk? Or did you just get brownies all over yourself?" another genius added.
"Of course it’s the biggest one here,” a particularly clever example of homo habilis chimed in, “Everything about you is big, isn’t it Kirk?”
Jim swallowed, trying to will his chair not to creak as he shifted his somewhat hefty weight, and fought between the instinct to stay quiet and try to somehow shrink himself away or to turn and lash back and give in to the childish teasing.
But before he could decide, they were all interrupted by approaching footsteps and a smooth, familiar, southern drawl, purring,
"Believe me, he’s big everywhere.”
Bones had a falter in his step, a momentary exaggerated limp, as he took the stool next to Jim and pressed against his side, wrapping his arms around Jim’s, as he grinned, “Almost too big for me actually.”
The other three had gone an unflattering red, unlike Jim, who in Bones’ eyes, was the most adorable shade of deep pink. One of them stuttered a growl, ” C-come on, Leonard, you can’t actually be dating this marshmallow, get real here!”
Bones, unimpressed, raised an eyebrow, “And what, date you instead? The biggest thing on you is your middle finger, Gary, so why don’t you go fuck yourself with it?”
Gary sputtered, “He’s just a big, fat loser!”
Bones sighed into Jim’s shoulder dreamily, before grinning wickedly, “And all I wanna do is suck his big, fat cock.”
The general shade of the room was ‘tomato red’ at this point (except Jim of course, who was a lovely dash of crimson), and Bones turned to nuzzle his ear, adding nonchalantly, “If I want half a popsicle stick to chew on, I’ll let you know, Gary.”
With that, the other three left the room, sputtering, but gone. Bones had laced their hands together before opening fiery hazel eyes to make sure they’d left for good.
Until Jim squealed, “Bonnnnnesss!! What the hell was that??”
"What?" the brunette looked the picture of innocence, "It’s true. Gary and I have gym together; there’s nothin’ to write home about in his shower stall."
“Jesus ever-loving Christ, and not that part, Bones.”
"What, about you?" his boyfriend raised an eyebrow, "That was all true too." He squirmed a bit in his seat, "Seriously, I’ve been limping all morning. Thank god it isn’t long distance running today."
"Oh god," Jim all but wailed, "I can’t believe that just happened."
"Yes, well, idiots are among us, Jim, that is an unfortunate truth," he suddenly smiled wide, annoyance disappearing as he gently touched a swirling planet, "Wow, this is it, darlin’? It’s gorgeous, I see why you didn’t want me to see it ‘til it was done. You really are somethin’ amazing."
Blue eyes blinked wide, and Jim stuttered on his words as he watched his beautiful boyfriend look with awe and appreciation at his hard work, “Ah, uh, thank you, Bones,” the lovely pink was returning as Jim ducked down his too bright eyes, “And thank you for… earlier also,” he sighed, “I just wish you didn’t have to-“
"It’s no problem, darlin’, I’m your boyfriend, that’s what I do, it’s what I’m here for," Bones smiled sweetly, before it changed to simply sinful, murmuring, “Also, to suck that big, fat cock of yours,” And a beautiful cherry colour this time. “I wasn’t kidding about that, and I’m a little sore for a proper round two, but you gotta at least let me have that.”
Jim looked at him disbelievingly, unable to calm the flush that was spreading from his face to his ears and chest. He grabbed his boyfriend and kissed him in that special way that only Jim could, and Bones shivered a bit, melting further against him.
Bones pulled back and smiled devilishly, “Is that a yes?”
Jim just sighed and gave that soft smile that made Bones’ knees weak, “For you, Bones? It will always be ‘yes’.”
Okay, so I saw something that said punk!Bones/chubby!Jim and this got stuck in my head
Mckirk au idea: Instead of tiny!Bones, what about chubby!Jim, who never really lost his baby fat and is a bit round in the face and more round in the belly and it makes him look baby-faced and a bit too adorable and a bit too shy and geez his southern hottie best friend just can’t stand it and one day when they’re sixteen just smooches him right on that damn, adorable face. And Jim is a bit shorter and a bit wider than his boyfriend, and despite all his damn intelligence and genuineness and that damn special spark that always amazes Leonard, Jim can’t help but wonder why this gorgeous, brilliant beauty is with him.
When he accidentally says it out loud one day when they’re nearing their twenties and finishing exams, Leonard pushes him down on the bed and rides him like a proper cowboy would. Afterwards, he whispers, I wonder why you’re with me sometimes too. It seems I’m just real lucky, I guess.
When Bones goes away to the south that summer, Jim decides to get two or three or eight jobs (with many an odd job on the side) to make enough to go visit him and take him out somewhere real nice. He buses tables, hauls hay, walks dogs, moves furniture, fixes cars, weeds little old ladies’ gardens (pro bono of course, except they send him home with hearty, healthy meals), and by the end of it, he shows up at the door of Bones’ grandparents’ house at the end of August.
Except this isn’t Bones’ sweet, cuddly blonde, it’s some tall, ripped stud and Bones almost closes the door on him when he tries to kiss him. But there’s the same shy smile there and illegally bright blue eyes and holy shit, it is Jim, his same lovely Jim just in a different package.
And it’s quite an interesting package, Leonard realizes, when they can kiss at the same height, even when Jim has lifted him up against the barn wall and is fucking him like he hasn’t seen him in a couple decades, not a couple months.
Leonard still pushes him down in the hay and shows him who the real cowboy is here, and Jim lights up just the same.
Various ways for Bones to gain his nickname from Jim in au’s:
Death!au: “Woah, you’re death?? If I’d known there would be a whole bunch of hotness and not just a pile of bones under that cloak, I would’ve had a near death experience way sooner.”
Archaeology!au: “I don’t care what anyone calls you, after that mummy fell on me, you’re ‘Indiana Bones’, you hear me?”
Witch doctor!au: “Those are some interesting body tatts you got, like, everywhere, doc, and you say they’re anatomically accurate? Can I check out your pelvis?”
Ice skating!au: “Oh my god, you’re the guy who broke his radius and finished the routine anyway?? You are the most hardcore, bone-breaking man I’ve ever met, and we need to be partners.”
Weatherman!au: “So, you say you can tell a storm’s coming by the feeling in your bones? Can they tell what heat I’m bringing your way?”
Drag queen!au: “Is that real whale boning for your dress? You go all out, wanna kiki later? Maybe kai kai??”
Send me Mckirk story ideas, and I’ll make a way for Bones to gain his nickname.
If I think about that I will explode.
Jim stares at the blue computer screen in disbelief, resisting the urge to reach out and shake the monitor. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he says aloud.
There’s a rustle from the next cubicle over and a man peers over the top sympathetically. Sulu, Jim thinks he might be called. Some sort of genius with statistics. “What d’you do?”
"I turned it on," Jim says, outraged. He jabs at the power button again and winces when his computer fizzes and goes black with a faint pop. "Shit."
"Could call IT."
"You think?" Jim gazes gloomily at his monitor. "It’s only my first week."
"Best get it out of the way quickly, then," Sulu advises. "Everyone ends up calling IT at some point. The earlier, the better."
Jim sighs and picks up the phone, and minutes later there’s a sharp rap on the wall of his cubicle.
"You the idiot that’s fried his computer?" barks a voice, and Jim looks up into a pair of disapproving hazel eyes.
"I. Uh," he answers intelligently, gawking as the man peers down at him critically. He’s tall, probably matching Jim if they were both standing, with long legs and slim hips and broad shoulders and Jesus, that jaw-
The IT guy, Jim realizes, is ridiculously hot. And apparently completely oblivious to the reaction he was getting from Jim.
"You try turning it off and on again?" the guy asks snidely. McCoy, says the nametag stitched on his blue polo.
"Turning it on was the problem." Jim gestures uselessly at the computer. "Sorry, I’m terrible with these….."
"I can tell. Move on over." McCoy wheels Jim and his chair away without waiting for a response, and Jim swivels slowly to the side, still dazed. He nearly topples over onto the floor when he turns back around and finds McCoy’s ass practically in his face.
McCoy does something to the computer that makes it hiccup back to life in seconds and straightens, to Jim’s dismay. “There. That should keep it from blowing up on you.” He leaves before Jim can so much as get a first name, and Jim slides his chair out into the aisle, gaping at McCoy’s back as he disappears around the corner.
Across the aisle, a redhead woman in her own cubicle catches Jim’s eye knowingly and winks, and he swallows hard.
The next Tuesday, he somehow manages to delete half his files and is well on his way to eradicating the hard drive when McCoy barrels in, red-faced and panting from apparently having run up five flights in stairs.
"Goddammit, kid,” he grouses, fingers flying across the keyboard, and Jim watches him helplessly.
"Sorry," Jim offers. "I….I’m not sure what I did."
"Shut up, I’m working," McCoy says through gritted teeth, and Jim shuts up obligingly, watching McCoy’s hands instead. They’re large hands, with long, slender fingers and broad palms. He spots a freckle at the base of McCoy’s wrist, can see the shift of delicate bones beneath tanned skin as he jabs at the space bar repeatedly.
"Everything all right?" Jim finally ventures to ask when McCoy flops down in his chair with a heavy sigh.
"Managed to restore your backups," McCoy answers shortly, squinting up at Jim incredulously. "I swear, kid, you’ve got a gift."
Jim puffs up in pride for about three seconds before he realizes it’s an insult and deflates. “Sorry.”
"Nah." McCoy looks at him curiously for a moment, then stands. "Try not to bring down the entire system before the weekend."
Jim doesn’t quite destroy the motherboard, but he comes close before Thursday, and three more times he sees McCoy sprinting down the aisle towards his cubicle.
It’s not until four weeks later, sixteen near-crash experiences and two actual-crash experiences, that Jim sees McCoy off after yet another incident before logging back onto his computer.
His desktop is blank except for a few company files, as usual, but there’s a new Word document that in the corner that he doesn’t remember opening.
Hoping it’s not a virus, and wishing guiltily that it is, Jim double clicks on it and stares as the white document feels the screen.
There’s easier ways to ask a guy out, kid.
It becomes somewhat of a regular thing between them as time goes on, Jim making his way quietly to Leonard’s room three nights every month and waiting outside until the change has left him shivering and vulnerable behind silver-laced walls.
Every time, it’s a struggle to fight back pure, primal instinct, to keep from leaping across the room and ripping out the intruder’s throat at first sight, but something about the human’s scent stops the wolf every time, long enough for Leonard to wrestle back even the smallest iota of control.
Jim sits on the floor and waits for him to settle down, never making the first move, and the wolf always starts out a few feet away, eyeing him warily. “Hey there, Bones,” Jim says quietly, the scar on his face twisting when he smiles. The wolf doesn’t like the mark, still carrying the scent of another wolf even after all these years, and it’s with the intent of wiping it away that he pads closer and sits next to the human.
Jim laughs in surprise when the wolf licks his face roughly, right across the raised pucker of scar tissue, but the wolf is less wolf with every passing moon and a little more Leonard, and even he’s not sure who’s in control anymore when he knocks Jim down playfully and flops on top of his stomach.
The next morning inevitably finds them both in Leonard’s bed, Jim sprawled on his back and snoring with Leonard’s face pressed against his side or his chest, an arm thrown possessively around the younger man’s waist.
"Jim," Leonard says hoarsely when he wakes, pushing himself up on one elbow to look down at him, and Jim grunts, peering at Leonard drowsily from under his eyelashes.
"Good boy," Jim murmurs absently, raising his hand and petting Leonard heavily, running his fingers clumsily through Leonard’s hair and pushing it back from his face. "Now lemme sleep."
"I’m not your dog," Leonard tells him mildly, feeling like he ought to be affronted, but…..he isn’t. Not really.
"Nah," Jim hums. His fingertips scratch lightly across Leonard’s scalp, and Leonard finds himself leaning into the kid’s palm. "More like a……bear. Teddy bear."
Leonard raises an eyebrow, unwillingly amused. “A bear, huh?”
"Mmm." Jim’s eyes drift shut again, his hand sliding off the side of Leonard’s face, and he’s out again in seconds. Leonard stares at him, at the way the shadow falls across his face in stripes from the window blinds, the slight rise and dip of his chest as he sighs softly in his sleep.
Jim smells like clean sweat and soap and sunlight, his hand warm where it’s caught on Leonard’s shoulder, and Leonard turns his face carefully, nuzzling against Jim’s palm and breathing him in.
It’s a funny thing, to think he once hated the full moon.