Mys (heavenlyxbodies) wrote in onthe_razorwire,

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Journey Story Fic (Jim/Bones): New Memories 2/2

Title: New Memories
Author: heavenlyxbodies
Pairing: James T. Kirk/Leonard H. “Bones” McCoy
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: nope
Feedback: Makes me happy, just play nice
Disclaimer(s) can be found here
Beta: the absolutely amazing, patient, and obviously insane lanalucy, anything left is me ignoring her sage advice, or just being grammatically cantankerous. :P
Summary: Jim couldn’t believe it, if someone had told him three months ago, when he’d first broached the idea of the trip to his best-friend, that dragging him three thousand miles cross-country and a few hundred more down the Eastern Seaboard would have resulted in more smiles than he’d witnessed in the entire time they’d known each other, he would’ve either laughed in their faces or possibly orchestrated some ship-wide emergency that required them to return to Earth right then just so he could test the hypothesis.

AN1: It’s not my fault, I swear… it’s theirs!!!
Or to be more precise:
weepingnaiad for the one that started it all
and the one that fed the fire
josephineja for the one where I gave up and started writing in earnest
and the one that gave me an excuse to get Bones naked
the_dala for the one of Chris that really did not help :P~
and the one of Karl that just fueled the damn flames even hotter.
FYI jim_and_bones is a locked comm.
AN2: Okay, so anybody who knows me knows I get downright obsessive over details, like unhealthily so, to the point Arthur has to threaten me to get me to step back and see reason- case in point, I can tell you the exact route including driving distances and exit numbers that the boys take in this fic. I’m also a looooong time trekker, who swore she’d never ship TOS, so when finally giving up and succumbing to the call of AOS Kirk/McCoy I take getting my details right even more seriously- no crossing the streams any more than they already are. Which brings me the reason for this AN… the histories of AOS and TOS Bones are totally fubared imo, and that’s without even trying to take fanon theories into consideration. The simple fact that they both give multiple answers to things makes my world very confusing (Seriously, it’s like trying to keep track of Watson’s wives and bullet wounds!!! Actually, that’s easier.), but anyway, it is a testament to Arthur’s great and far reaching powers that I have thrown caution to the wind and just gone with it, so please forgive anything that doesn’t comply with AOS canon.
AN3: Copperhills, TN and the Burra Burra mining operation are real. And I am well aware that in 200 some odd years the destruction caused from the mining operations would be mostly healed, but damn-it there’s a reason the gods invented poetic license.
Also, for anyone interested this is the car.
AN4: I am not even slightly sorry for using that one phrase- trust me, you’ll know which one.
AN5: Huge thank yous to both mialoco *hugs* for reading over this and encouraging me and to nickygabriel for both running this and generally being supportive.
AN6: Totally unrelated to the fic in any way, shape, or form- why is it that every time I hear/read the term “emotionally compromised Vulcan” I automatically hear Lance Guest talking about being killed a million miles from Earth with “a gung-ho iguana”?

monkiainen created this lovely playlist as part of the journeystory bang/challenge.

~This is the long coming (or posting) of the first part of the New Memories series, and ‘prequel’ to New Beginnings.


Jim leaned against the light railing surrounding the hardwood patio that ran along the length of their apartment, looking out at the beach- its pale sands soaking up the reds and purples of the, frankly spectacular, sunset. The waves were a darker blue in the fading light, their crests reflecting and refracting the colours of the sunset.

Strong arms came to wrap around him and he ran his hands over increasingly familiar skin.

“It’s better than I remembered,” Bones told him.

Jim smiled one of his quirky smiles, turning his head to look at Bones. “New memories?” he said simply.

Bones laughed and kissed him.

They stood there for a minute, watching each other, until Bones broke the silence. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Yes, Jim, a walk. I know you’re familiar with the concept of walking- you got out here.”

“Funny, Bones,” Jim said sarcastically.

Smirking, Bones held out a hand as he made for the path leading to the boardwalk.

Jim automatically took Bones’ hand. “What, no lectures about shoes and all the horrible things in the sand and water?”

Bones stopped and glowered at Jim, “It’s a beach, Jim, not some kid’s science project.” He continued walking. “Besides, you don’t walk along the beach in shoes- it’s a sacrilege.”

Being tugged along behind, Bones, Jim let out a full body laugh and abruptly pulled a shocked Bones to him, kissing him soundly, his laugh never fully dissipating. He loved Bones, he truly did, and this new turn in their relationship, the touching, kissing, smiling, laughing was starting to fully hit him. Maybe he was starting to get a little manic, but, Hell, he deserved to be. He slid his arms around Bones’ neck, resting his head on his shoulder when they broke apart.

“Jim?” Bones asked, holding him close. “What’s wrong, darlin’?”

There was that word again; Jim marveled how a word could sound so different when Bones said it to him then when he was simply reverting to his ingrained Southern charm. It made him feel important, powerful. “Nothing.” He smiled against Bones’ skin. “Nothing at all.” He felt Bones relax, almost as if he understood what Jim was going through and thinking. Of course, this was Bones, his Bones, so maybe he did.

Kissing Jim’s hair, the short blond strands tickling his cheek as he turned, “We’ve got three days,” he purred. “Did you want to stay in tonight?”

“Hell, no,” Jim declared. Softer, he admitted, “I just needed a minute.”

Bones chuckled. “Kinda hits you all at once,” he said knowingly.

“Could’ve warned me,” Jim accused with a snicker.

“Oh, yeah, tell the Great James T. Kirk anything about love,” he answered gruffly, without any malice.

Jim pulled back with a huff. “Are we going?”

Bones squeezed Jim’s hand. “Waitin’ on you, darlin’.”

They walked along the boardwalk, away from the last vestiges of buildings and people- the boardwalk continuing several hundred yards further down the beach. The sun had fully set, succumbing to the stars Jim loved so much, by the time they reached the end of the ‘walk. By mutual, unspoken agreement they sat on the edge of the wooden walk, bare feet dangling in the sand.

Bones leaned back on his elbows, looking up into constellations that had barely changed in eons.

Surprisingly, Jim’s attention was trained, not on the skies, but on the dark, heaving waters. He felt fingers lightly brush his forearm and quick reflexes caught them before they could move away. Looking back at Bones, he smiled, squeezing his hand, a hand he continued to hold when he returned his attention to the sea.

Sitting fully, Bones followed Jim’s gaze out past the sand and waves. “Come on,” he said, sliding off their perch and onto the sand- still holding enough heat from the sun to be warm against his feet. Bones didn’t stop until they were at the water’s edge, just far enough out for the incoming waves to caress their ankles, the chill waters an exhilarating contrast to the sun-warmed sand.

Jim gave Bones a quizzical look, one he knew was nowhere near as demanding without Bones’ arching eyebrow backing it up. Still, it got him an answer.

“I loved it out here when I was a kid.”

“Is there anywhere you weren’t when you were a kid?’

That earned Jim one of Bones’ special ‘glares of death,’ which would have been much more effective if Jim wasn’t getting lost in the shimmer in Bones’ eyes. In the moonlight they danced with amber sparks and the sharp stab of green pinpricks. Jim vaguely registered Bones talking to him and he forced himself to close his eyes and refocus. He was about to ask Bones what he’d said when he was summarily drenched in cold salt water.

“Maybe now you’ll pay attention,” Bones informed him as he wrung out the shirt he’d used as an impromptu waterskin.

Jim sputtered and spit out the water that fell into his open mouth. His eyes narrowed. “Oh, really.” His smile twitched up, positively radiating evil, and before Bones could do more than raise his arm protectively, Jim had sent a huge splash of water at him in retaliation.

Bones raised eyebrow silently screamed murder in contrast to the laughter in his voice. “That’s how you wanna play it?” he asked, prowling towards Jim.

Jim began to backpedal. “Bones? Bones?” he most definitely didn’t squeak. “Bones, think about what you’re doing.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head ‘bout what I’m thinkin’.”

As the next big wave came in, Jim found himself wrapped in a pair of strong arms as Bones sent them both tumbling into the water. They broke the surface simultaneously, shaking their heads like a couple of wet dogs, spraying each other with as much water as they shook off. Laughter mixed heavily with the roll and splash of the ocean.

Jim wiped a hand down his face to remove some of the water dripping into eyes, keeping him from seeing clearly. And he was never more glad to see something. Bones’ whole body was quaking with laughter, his hair fighting between sticking up wildly and being plastered to his face, his bare chest almost too tempting to resist. Hungrily, he traced a bead of water that fell from Bones’ shoulder down to hang off a pert nipple like morning dew clinging to a flower petal. Licking his lips, Jim had to taste, touch.

Above him the full laughter morphed into a heavy moan when Jim gently caught the salty drop on his tongue, barely brushing the taut flesh. Jim hummed, nipping the nub playfully. “If you don’t want sand in unpleasant places, we should get back,” he growled rolling his forehead across Bones’ chest, panting against the damp skin.

Chuckling, Bones pulled Jim up to meet him. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but I think we already ‘complished that.”

Giving Bones a matching chuckle, Jim amended his statement, “Fine, before we get any more sand in unpleasant places.”

“Mmm,” Bones agreed. “Getting a bit chilly.”

Jim scoffed, “Maybe you shouldn’t have used your shirt to dump water on me.”

“Maybe I should dunk your ass again.” Bones’ eyebrow arched in a way that spoke volumes about his intent and resolve when Jim snickered.

“Bones?” He barely dodged the older man’s grasp when he lunged for him. “Bones. This is how it started the first time.”

“Hmph. Nana McCoy always said history repeats itself.”

“Not sure this is what she meant, Bones.”

His eyebrow rose curiously, “How would you know?”

“Just a hunch,” he answered, jumping out of Bones reach once again. With a taunting smirk, Jim took off down the beach back towards their apartment. He heard Bones huff behind him, followed by a bark of laughter that Jim was certain accompanied an indulgent head shake.

They chased each other along the beach, laughing and splashing each other like kids.

Jim bent over, bracing his hands on his knees while he panted and tried to catch his breath- the mixture of running and laughing winding him faster than any normal run would have. He’d barely gotten one decent breath when he was bowled over by the weight of a breathless, bare-chested, Southern country doctor.


Squirming until he was facing Bones, Jim smirked asking, “Got me, but what’re you gonna do with me?”

The eyebrow of incredulousness quirked up and Bones’ eyes flashed with hunger as he spoke softly into Jim’s ear, accent thick and sweet. “I’m gonna take you home, push you down on that big bed, kiss every inch of you until the great Jim Kirk is a pliant, mewling mess, begging to be touched by me. He punctuated his words with a nip to Jim’s ear. “Then I’m gonna make love to you slowly, might make it last all night.”

Jim moaned, rolling his hips up into Bones, letting the evidence of his words’ effect press insistently against him. He felt Bones grin against his ear.

“But first,” Bones said, climbing off Jim and offering him a hand up, “a shower.”

“You are an evil man.”

Bones just winked and gave him an evil grin.


“You don’t make this easy,” Bones chided as he lathered up Jim’s hair.

“Mmm. It’s your fault,” Jim cheerfully informed him, squeezing Bones’ ass again.

“Infant. Stay still or you’ll get soap in your eyes.” Bones moved Jim under the shower’s spray to rinse his hair.

Jim tilted his head back under the water, jumping when Bones took advantage of his stretched neck and bit him none too gently. “Hey! What happened to staying still?”

“I said you needed to stay still,” he explained remorselessly as his fingers worked suds and soap out of Jim’s hair.


“You love it.”

Jim let out a half chuckle. “I love you.”

Bones gently slicked Jim’s hair back one last time and waited for Jim to look at him. “I love you, too, sweet’art.” Giving Jim a quick, teasing kiss, he smacked his ass telling him, “Now, get, so I can get cleaned up.”

“Hmph. I wanted to return the favour,” Jim purred.

“Next time. I promise. Tonight I wanna get you in that bed and if I let you stay we’re never getting’ there.”

“Good point.” Jim stepped out of the shower, drying off with a fluffy towel. “Just don’t take too long; don’t want me starting without you.”

Bones grunted. “Get.”

“Bones.” Jim waited for him to stick his head out of the shower. “I meant it,” he said seriously.

Smiling softly, Bones simply answered, “I know.”

Nodding once, Jim left Bones to his shower.


Jim stretched out on the bed, lounging like a cat; his pose one of relaxed certainty. He positioned himself so that he was facing the bathroom door waiting for Bones to emerge. He closed his eyes, imagining Bones coming out in a cloud of steam and nothing else, stalking towards the bed and Jim, ready to push him down and do all those things he’d promised on the beach. He let out a tiny moan at the thought.

“You al’right there, darlin’?” Bones rumbled from a few feet away.

“I’d be better if you’d get your ass over here.”

“Patience, Jim, good things come to those who wait.”

“Isn’t five years enough waiting?”

With a soft snicker Bones drawled, “Then five minutes aren’t gonna kill you.”

Jim flopped back on the bed, watching upside down as Bones rummaged through his bag. Jim was slightly mollified when he realized what Bones was looking for- the sight of a naked Bones bending over his bag helped, too. He rolled back onto his stomach when Bones made a little sound of triumph and straightened. The reality of Bones stalking predatorily towards him was so much better than Jim’s imagination. Bones had the sleek grace of a hunter, confident and intent. Jim couldn’t tear his eyes from him; he was captured, held fast by deep green eyes made all the darker by wide-blown pupils.

On instinct, Jim began to crawl backwards on the bed as Bones approached until he was on his ass leaning back on his elbows.

Bones followed Jim’s movements, climbing on the bed and up until he covered Jim’s body.

As they lay there, face to face, Jim silently gave thanks to every deity he knew, including a couple he thought he had just invented, that Bones was here with him like this after so long and so many close calls. He pushed those thoughts away and cupped Bones’ face. They shared a smile and Bones kissed Jim’s palm, their noses bumping playfully before their mouths met for a slow, languid kiss.

Bones’ hands smoothed up Jim’s flanks, muscles rippling at the gentle touch. He pulled back from the mind-melting kiss, examining Jim. “Where to start?” he purred. “Here?” he asked, running a finger down Jim’s neck and along the inside of his collarbone. “Here?” He trailed those exquisite surgeon’s fingers over Jim’s breast bone. Then Bones took Jim’s hand, turning the underside of his wrist to his lips. “Or here?”

“Bones,” Jim whispered.

“Don’t interrupt,” Bones chided, continuing to kiss along the underside of Jim’s arm.

When Bones reached Jim’s shoulders, Jim ran his fingers into Bones’ hair- not sure if he was attempting to guide or simply hang on for the ride. Bones could be so single-minded at times and all the stars in the universe couldn’t dissuade or distract him. The part of Jim’s brain still capable of higher function screamed at him in vivid Technicolor complete with colourful metaphors and diagrams that this was one of those times.

With a sharp nip to the base of Jim’s neck, Bones growled, “Stop thinkin’ so loud,” then moved his way over Jim’s chest, doing his best to make him stop thinking. His tongue circled teasingly around the tightening nub of Jim’s nipple before taking it between his teeth and tugging, causing the hand in his hair to grip harder. Bones hummed appreciatively. Gentle open-mouthed kisses paved Bones’ way to Jim’s other nipple to receive its own attention.

True to his word, Bones mapped Jim’s body with kisses- tender along his ribs, almost teasing, harder over hips, making Jim jump and whimper, down to thighs that quaked and quivered before Bones even touched them.

Hands that could no longer reach soft dark hair fisted in the sheets as a litany of ‘Bones, Bones, Bones’ interspersed with choked off moans and ‘Please’ rained down on Bones’ ears. Smiling, Bones nuzzled against Jim’s knee, then bit the corded muscle just underneath.

Jim made a noise- equal parts moan and whimper.

Easing back up Jim’s body, Bones sucked a deep bruise into his neck as Jim let out more of those soft mewls.

“Bones,” Jim called plaintively, grabbing onto Bones’ arms when he appeared to be pulling away.

“Shh, not goin’ anywhere, sweet’art.”

Jim relaxed his grip on Bones’ arms, a spark of shame flaring at his neediness.

“Stop that,” Bones murmured as he stroked a thumb lovingly under eyes Jim hadn’t realized he’d closed. “I need you, too. Think I always have.”


Bones gave him an incredulous look.

Jim should’ve known, of course Bones understood; there was no one, absolutely no one, who knew more about the workings of James T. Kirk than Leonard McCoy. He thread his fingers through Bones’ hair and pulled him down for a kiss, letting his need and desire flow uninhibited. This was Bones- he didn’t need to hide or hold anything back- he didn’t want to.

Breathlessly, Bones rolled off Jim onto his side, one leg looped over Jim’s. Reaching over Jim to pick up the tube he’d left there, he deftly opened it and squeezed some of the slick substance over his fingers.

Just as he had with everything else that night, Bones took his time preparing Jim. Teasing the sensitive spot behind his balls until Jim was begging, demanding, and cursing simultaneously. Only then did he slip his hand lower to circle the throbbing ring of muscle.

“Please, Bones,” Jim panted.

“Please what, darlin’?” Bones asked, torturously dipping the tip of his finger inside Jim’s hole.

Jim’s “God, yes” melded with incoherent moans scattered with ragged ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s and small cut-off cries that may have been Bones’ name as Bones worked into him, stroking and stretching.

A second finger joined the first- a delicious pressure Jim wanted to fall into and never leave.

“God, Jim,” Bones murmured, placing soft kisses over Jim’s chest and shoulder. Carefully, he added a third finger; on his second stroke he curled his fingers just enough to brush Jim’s prostate.

“Oh, God!” Jim’s nerves sizzled with electricity. “Bones… don’t, I’ll come,” Jim panted, surprised he was that coherent.

Bones immediately stopped his movements, letting his fingers simply rest inside his lover. “When you come, it will be with me buried so deep inside you that you won’t know which of us is coming,” Bones promised so confidently and sensually, Jim had no choice but to believe it. Slowly, Bones began to move his fingers, careful to avoid the delicate bundle of nerves.

“Bones, please.”

Bones’ chuckled a little breathlessly. “But you beg so beautifully. I could get used to it.”

“Please… please… please…,” Jim chanted softly, more than willing to appease Bones if it meant an end to the heavenly torture.

Removing his fingers, Bones slicked himself up and rolled back over Jim’s body. Before he’d even gotten situated, Jim’s long legs came up and wrapped around Bones’ waist. “Easy, sweet’art,” Bones soothed.

Jim took a deep, if shaky, breath, pushing the unaccustomed neediness away- he could analyze that later- right now, he had Bones between his legs and Bones’ fingers running softly through his short hair.

Bones dropped a chaste kiss on Jim’s lips as he reached down to line himself up. Pulling back, he caught Jim’s deep lapis eyes before pushing into him.

The sounds that fell from Jim’s mouth were unmistakable- pure pleasure. His legs tightened around Bones’ waist, pulling him closer.

“Damn-it, Jim,” Bones whispered. “So-”

“Perfect,” Jim finished.

Lowering his head to rest in the crook of Jim’s neck, “Yeah,” Bones breathed out slowly. His hips rolled experimentally against Jim. He pulled out the slightest amount, trailing kisses up Jim’s neck and jawline to steal his kiss-swollen lips in a sensual embrace as he rocked back into Jim.

They moved like that, Bones making small rolling, rocking circuits, never leaving Jim very empty and never for very long.

The torturous pace was driving Jim insane. He was used to fast fucks, his partners reaching for release; not that he was a stranger to slow and sensual, simply that he was never on the receiving end of that attention. This was new; maddening and wonderful. That not-so-quiet needy part of him practically cooed in ecstasy. “Bones,” he moaned. “More.”

Bones growled at the words, pulling back to manhandle Jim’s body. He never left Jim’s warm heat as he turned Jim onto his side, straddling one leg, the other stretched across Bones’ chest.

Jim let out a grunting moan as the position allowed Bones to slide in just that much deeper. He scrabbled ineffectually at Bones’ leg, looking for anything to ground himself on. He was tumbling in a freefall of sensation and emotion, desperate for something to regain his balance. Jim reached for his leaking cock, only to have his hand intercepted and brought to waiting lips; kisses that may have been words danced across his palm, while Bones’ free hand wrapped around Jim’s cock, stroking in matching rhythm to his trusts.

The kisses to Jim’s hand became sloppier, more primal as Bones’ thrusts sped up. Jim’s body was thrumming, wave after wave of electricity shooting through him with every roll and thrust of Bones’ hips.

Somewhere through his haze of pleasure Jim made out the words being whispered against his palm- his name, “Jim,” repeated over and over like a sacrament. Jim’s muscles clamped down as he all but screamed Bones’ name- the world exploding white before him, shattering and rebuilding it simultaneously- coming thickly in Bones’ hand while Bones pulsed inside him.

Jim felt himself being jostled, something warm and soft being wiped between his legs and over his chest. He opened heavy-lidded eyes to see Bones smiling softly at him.

“Go back to sleep, Jim. I got this taken care of,” Bones spoke in soft rumbling tones, like a velvet thunder cloud. After a few more swipes with the cloth, Bones chucked it towards the bathroom and slid down to wrap around Jim and join in a wonderfully sated sleep.


“Bones,” Jim whined from under a pillow, “come back to bed.”

“We’ve barely left the bed in thirty-six hours.”

“Your point?” Jim asked, lifting his head from under the pillow he was using to block out the sun.

“My point,” Bones began, sitting on the edge of the bed, smoothing out Jim’s bedhead, “is that we want to get to Atlanta before dark and I’d like to see more than these four walls before we go.” He leaned down and kissed his lover. “Besides, somethin’ tells me we’re gonna need extra time to clean up after.”

Jim perked up.

“Thought that would get your attention, damn nymphomaniac.”

Jim seemed to think about that for a moment then grabbed Bones pulling him down on the bed and crawling on top of him. “Maybe, but I’m your nymphomaniac.”

Something that might have been an amused grunt was swallowed by Jim’s lips on Bones’.

“Mmm,” Jim purred. “Needed that.” Licking his lips, Jim sat up, climbed off the bed, and headed for the bathroom.

Groaning, Bones thumped his head against the pillows. “Now, who’s bein’ an evil tease?” he grumbled.

Jim’s melodic laughter was his only answer.


“What is this place?” Jim asked as they approached the tall lighthouse.

“Tybee Island Lighthouse,” Bones said with a hint of fond exasperation, tapping the large faux-wooden sign that proclaimed just that.

Jim huffed. “I can read, Bones. Why are we here?”

Ignoring him, Bones walked into the lobby of the historic building. As soon as they entered a smooth female voice began its narration of the lighthouse’s history. Bones walked directly to the welcome desk, exchanging a few words with the white-haired, motherly looking woman there. He was smiling when he returned to Jim. Taking his hand, Bones led Jim over to a small doorway. “Hope you’re up for a bit of a climb.”

In front of Jim was a thin, winding, wrought-iron staircase that spiraled presumably up to the beacon level of the lighthouse. Jim’s expression turned from skeptical to giddy as he jumped up the first few steps. Turning, he called, “Coming?”

Bones giggled, outright giggled, and joined Jim on the staircase. “Move it, slow poke. Some of us wanna make it to the top before we reach retirement age.”

“Tell me the truth, Bones, we’re just doing this so you can stare at my ass.”

“Pfft, I don’t need an excuse to do that anymore,” he scoffed.

“Bones. Have you been ogling my ass all these years?” Jim teased, knowing he’d spent plenty of time ogling Bones’ everything.

“Like you haven’t.”

“I’m not that much of a narcissist,” Jim countered, deliberately misconstruing Bones’ words.

Bones rolled his eyes, letting the point rest.

As they neared the top, Bones instructed, “Go to your left.” He heard Jim suck in a breath as he turned out onto the beacon floor. Bones came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Jim, chin resting on his shoulder.

Jim leaned back into the embrace, staring out over the churning waters. The sun played over the surface making tiny diamonds blanket the ocean as far as he could see.

“Thought you’d like it.”

“It’s beautiful, Bones.” He continued to stare out at the view for long minutes before he registered the lack of other visitors. Brow furrowing slightly, he asked, “Why aren’t there more people here?”

“It might happen to be their lunch hour,” he admitted.

Jim turned a beaming smile at him- Bones had arranged this just for them. “Do you take all your conquests up here?” he half teased.

Bones didn’t answer directly, just kissed his neck and whispered, “New memories.”

It was answer enough.


Miraculously, they managed to get back on the road only an hour later than they had planned and soon they were nearing the outskirts of the far-reaching Atlanta suburbs- the rolling fields of grass dotted with cattle, horses, and sheep becoming fewer as clusters of houses took their place.

“You can drop me at Peachtree,” Jim said as nonchalantly as he could muster. He knew the plan had been for Bones to go on without him, but that was then. But Jim wasn’t going to invite himself along, no matter how much he wanted it.

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Bones asked, giving him a look that clearly questioned his sanity.

“You were going to drop me off before you went to your mom’s.”

Bones pulled the car over abruptly. “Damn-it, Jim, do you really think I’d do that? You were comin’ whether you wanted to or not before; there’s no way in Hell you’re getting’ out of it now.” He leaned over, halfway into Jim’s seat, giving him a fierce demanding kiss to accentuate his point. He exhaled softly, wrapping a hand around the back of Jim’s neck and pressing their foreheads together. “Get it through that fool head of yours- I love you, I’m not ashamed of you, you are comin’ home with me, meetin’ Mamma, sleepin’ in my bed, and knowin’ you, convincin’ me to have sex in every inappropriate place you can find. End of discussion.”

Jim swallowed hard, forcing out a gruff, “Okay.”

“Glad that’s settled.” Bones sat back in the driver’s seat, taking Jim’s hand and placing it on his thigh before pulling out onto the road again.

Jim’s mind was reeling and he wasn’t even sure why. He knew Bones loved him, hadn’t doubted, but he’d been so emphatic in his words. His eyes travelled to his hand on Bones’ thigh and he squeezed softly. He felt Bones turn and knew he was smiling at him. A moment later Bones’ hand came to cover his and Jim realized Bones needed the reassurance as much as he did. With another, more confident, squeeze, Jim relaxed into the seat and simply enjoyed the feelings and the ride around the outskirts of Atlanta.

Marietta itself had long ago succumbed to the huge metropolis that was Atlanta, even though it was a good twenty miles outside its city limits. Yet somehow, just a few miles away from Marietta, there was countryside, small family farms and large plots of green grass peppered with trees- oaks, pines, maples, and low hanging willows. Bones turned onto a long graveled drive leading to a stately Victorian-style house.

As the house came into proper view Jim took in the beautiful simplicity of it. It was a two story Antebellum house with a large bow window on one side, sticking out over a colourful bed of pink and purple geraniums that ran the length of the house. There were large paned windows, both up and downstairs, and small round rose windows along the attic. Outside the attic, running around the whole house, was an ornate widow’s walk, though why a house hundreds of miles from the ocean needed a widow’s walk, Jim didn’t dare guess.

The question, like so many others of late, must have shown on Jim’s face because Bones explained, “Grandpappa McCoy built this place back when he and Nana got married. Nana always wanted a widow’s walk, so when he built this place he made damn sure she had one.”

As they approached the head of the driveway and the gravel gave way to pavement, Bones took Jim’s hand from his thigh and brought it to his lips, kissing his palm. “Welcome home, Jim,” he said, pulling into a spot in the separate two car garage. “Come on, Mamma’ll be waitin’.” He gave Jim a wink before getting out of the car and waiting for him to do the same. Taking Jim’s hand, Bones gently pulled him along towards the front of the house.

The front porch was as stereotypically Old South as could be with its cushioned porch swing and rocking chairs- one actual wicker- and a small cast iron table with a large pitcher of what Jim was absolutely certain was sweet tea.

The front door opened just as they reached the steps and a smiling, no, beaming woman came out, her long dark hair streaked with grey, and partially pulled back in a ponytail, letting the rest fall over her shoulders. She reminded Jim of one of those old twentieth century film actresses- proud and strong. Opening her arms wide she called, “Leonard!”

“Mamma,” Bones said, going into her outstretched arms, picking her up and swinging her around in a quick circle.

His mother giggled in delight like a child- happy and carefree and so unlike Bones.

Jim couldn’t help but wonder if this was what Bones had been like before the divorce; the thought made him hate the ex even more.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” she cooed then cast a look around her son to Jim. “You must be the famous Jim Kirk,” she said, approaching him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, let’s have a look at you.” She came to stand directly in front of Jim, her green eyes searching his. Smiling, she stepped closer to give Jim a warm hug. “Leonard chose well.”

“Ma’am,” he answered simply, unsure how to respond.

“I won’t be havin’ any of that. It’s Mamma or Betsy,” she told him, looping an arm around one of Jim’s and leading him up to where Bones was watching them from the porch.

Betsy looked consideringly between Jim and her son. “I’m guessin’ you won’t be needin’ the guest room after all,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.


“Yes, dear,” she answered innocently.

Bones sputtered.

“Oh, Leonard. I’m a grown woman and you’re a grown man.” She looked at Jim. “You both are. No point standin’ on ceremony. ‘sides, you were gonna tell me that anyway.”

Bones chuckled and kissed his mom’s hair. “I missed you, Mamma.”

“Missed you, too, you crotchety ol’ coot,” she said, wrinkling her nose at Bones playfully. Turning to Jim she asked, “Is he as much of a cantankerous ass with you as he is with me?”

“I think most of the crew would call ‘cantankerous’ a bit of an upgrade,” he replied, laughing at the scowl Bones shot him; a scowl that only deepened when Betsy joined in the laughter.

“Not much changes then. He was always such a serious child,” she told Jim. “Of course, when he decided to have fun, he did. Should’ve seen him. Part monkey, part polecat, probably a bit of porcupine, too.”

“I would love to have seen that, Betsy.” And he would have. He could see a little Bones running around, climbing trees and skinning knees.

Betsy leaned close and stage-whispered to Jim, “I’m sure I have some old holos ‘round. I can show them to you while you’re here.”

“I’d like that,” Jim said, his voice soft and full of honesty rather than mischief.

Betsy’s smile softened. “Well, we’ll just have to do that then.” She gave him a loving pat on his arm. “Now, let’s get you boys settled and you can tell me all about your trip and your adventures on that ship of yours,” she said as she ushered them into the house.


It was late, close to four in the morning if Jim was any judge, and he couldn’t sleep, which was why he was standing outside on the widow’s walk in a ratty, ill-fitting but entirely too comfortable pair of Bones’ sweats. He’d drifted off easily enough entwined with Bones, feeling loved and secure. But he’d woken up a couple hours ago, thoughts of family and how screwed up he was flooding his mind. Betsy was a wonderful woman, warm and kind with a sharp wit and equally sharp tongue- he could see where Bones got it. Still, he couldn’t help but feel he didn’t belong here; this wasn’t him, he wasn’t home and smiles and laughter and love. He didn’t know how to handle it. And wasn’t that a revelation- something James T. Kirk didn’t know how to handle or at least fake his way through. “What the Hell am I doing here?” he asked the railing.

“My guess,” said a soft voice from behind him, “is thinkin’ ‘bout how different this is from what you’re used to.” Betsy came up to stand beside Jim. “I know about you, Jim Kirk- reckless, wild, brilliant, always living in your father’s shadow, always afraid you’re not good enough, not deserving enough.”


“Shoosh, I’m not done, yet. I also know there’re a lotta things you hide and hide well. But you mark my words, young man. My son loves you, has practically since the day you met, though I know he didn’t know it back then- some things a mother just knows. He loves you and Leonard has never loved easily, even before Pamela practically destroyed him. Anyone my son loves as deeply as he loves you is deserving and worthy. You’re part of this family now; I don’t care what you were brought up thinkin’, but here, it means love and caring and takin’ care of each other- all those things you and Leonard have been doing for each other for years. You belong here, that’s what you’re doin’ here.”

Jim didn’t know what to say, to any of it; it was too much, so he settled for standing there, shoulder to shoulder with Betsy watching the night sky. “Thank you,” he said eventually.

Betsy put an arm around him and rubbed his bare arm. “You should get inside before you catch your death.”

“I got it, Mamma,” Bones’ rough timbre floated on the night air as he came forward, blanket in hand.

Turning, Betsy smiled at her son then planted a sweet kiss on Jim’s cheek before leaving them alone.

As soon as she’d gone Jim pulled Bones to him, taking his lips softer and fiercer than he had before, letting himself feel and be felt. Home, this was home, this was love. This was respect and need and want and belonging and Bones. “I love you,” Jim panted quietly.

Gently, Bones guided Jim over to a comfortable looking outdoor divan. Bones stretched out, sitting against the raised back and arm, and tugged Jim into his lap.

Jim went willingly, shifting until they were lying comfortably together.

As soon as they were settled Bones draped the blanket he’d brought out over them. “Mamma’s right, you know,” he drawled, running his fingers through Jim’s hair, massaging his scalp.

“You heard all that?” Jim asked drowsily.

“Nah, just caught the end, but I know how she is, so I can take a pretty good guess at the rest.”

“Mmm,” Jim agreed blearily as he felt himself begin to nod off. He must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing he knew he was being kissed awake.

“That’s it, darlin’. Let’s get back inside. Got a nice, soft, warm bed for us in there.”

“’kay, B’nes.” He groggily sat up and let Bones lead him back inside and to their bed.

Bones sat Jim on the edge of the bed, removing the baggy sweats and laying him down before shucking his own hastily thrown-on clothes and climbing onto the other side of the bed. He’d barely lain down when Jim started shuffling towards him in his sleep. Sliding down, Bones edged closer, wrapping his arm around Jim’s waist and working a leg between his. He kissed Jim’s sleep-mussed hair, whispering, “Sleep well, sweet’art.”


Jim woke up slowly. Memories of the night floating serenely through his head like wisps of cotton candy that escaped the centrifuge. He blindly reached over only to find the other side of the bed completely Bones-less. “Bones?” He raised his head and peered around the room, his eyes catching on the drawn curtains and shades.

Climbing out of bed, he went to twitch back the curtain. Outside the sun was high in the sky; the feathery clouds did little to deter its rays. In the near distance, just before the tree line that bordered the eastern edge of the property, Jim made out a figure lounging under a large weeping willow. Smiling to himself, he knew it had to be Bones- no one else lounged with such intent, except possibly Spock, but that would involve the Vulcan even knowing how to ‘lounge.’

He dressed quickly and practically bounced downstairs, where he found Betsy in the kitchen packing a basket with sandwiches and two large mason jars of tea.

“I thought I heard you bangin’ around up there,” she said jovially.

“Sorry about that, ma- Betsy,” he corrected quickly.

“We’re getting’ there,” Betsy answered cryptically. “Here, take this out to Leonard. You two have fun.”

Chuckling, Jim took the basket and kissed Betsy’s cheek. “Thanks, Mamma,” he said automatically before he could catch himself.

Betsy beamed at him. “That’s better,” she said, patting Jim’s cheeks in that way only grandmotherly Southern women can. “Now, get. I have things to do.”

Taking his cue, Jim headed out the back door and across the field in the direction of the large willow. He took his time, taking in the feel of the soft grass between his toes, and the fresh smell of pine wafting from the tree line and eventually, Bones. He was stretched out, propped up on one elbow reading, the sun shining down on him through the sparse, thin leaves of the willow. Bones looked at home, Jim thought, and he suddenly understood more than ever why Bones hated space so much. Jim felt something in his chest tightened, realizing he really was the reason Bones was out in the black and not in one of Starfleet’s hospitals or teaching at the Academy. His pace quickened until he was standing in front of his lover, blocking his sun and causing Bones to look up.

Bones smiled that quirky smile that he’d grown more and more accustomed to, yet still thought of as his own. “Was startin’ to think you were gonna sleep the day away,” he teased.

And just like that, Jim’s worries fell to the wayside; he knew they’d come up again and maybe then he’d deal with them, but not right now. Sitting down, Jim placed the basket to the side before gently plucking the book from Bones’ hand, snatching up a fallen leaf to mark his place, and setting it safely on top of the basket.

Bones continued to smile at him, eyes twinkling as Jim pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, straddling him.

They kissed long and slow and lazy, like nothing in the world existed but them, the grass, the trees, the birds, and the sun shining down on them. “Tell me again,” Jim murmured after long minutes.

“I love you,” Bones said without hesitation.

Jim chuckled softly. “That, too.” He brought their mouths together for another kiss. “Tell me again,” he asked again.

Bones’ eyebrow quirked up inquisitively.

“What you said when we first got here,” Jim clarified.

Jim knew Bones understood as soon as he’d said the words- his green-hazel eyes softened and his hand cupped Jim’s cheek as Bones pulled him closer, lips barely brushing just before he whispered, “Welcome home, Jim.”

If Bones thought the Georgia sun was bright… well, it held nothing to the smile spreading across Jim’s face.

Jim exhaled a sigh of relief, kissing Bones, rubbing their foreheads together, randomly saying things like, “home” “Bones” and “I love you.” Eventually things slowed. The words- simple and heartfelt “I love you”s. The kisses- lingering and sweet like fresh picked honeysuckle. Jim smirked into one of those lazy kisses, his playful demeanour obviously returning. “So what was that you were saying about having sex in as many inappropriate places as I can find?”

Groaning, Bones twined his fingers in Jim’s hair, yanking him back down for a kiss. “Wanna start here?” Bones asked pushing his hard cock against Jim’s leg.

“You read my mind, baby.”

Their laughter mingled through their next kiss, Bones rolling them over as they laughed.

Looking down at Jim, he traced along an eyebrow. “I do love you, Jim and this is your home, too, for as long as you want it to be.”

“I know.”
Tags: comm: journeystory, fic: new memories, kink/warning: fluff/schmoop, kink/warning: road trip, verse: new memories

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