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“You know,” Jim drawled as he scribbled Leonard McCoy’s order on the cup. “For a guy who visits a coffee shop as often as you do, you don’t drink a lot of coffee.”
"Probably ‘cause it’s foul garbage.”
“Right.” Jim grinned; the first time he had seen the man walk in to the shop, it had been more of a stumble, bleary-eyed in the early morning as he mumbled out his order. ”Black tea, hot, nothin’ but the bare bones,” Jim drawled, mimicking the words from their first meeting as he went over to the pastry case to retrieve a peach muffin. ”Right?”
That earned Jim a wry smile. ”That’s the one.”
"Anything for you, right?" Jim kept his tone light as he scrawled Bones on the cup, watching as the man stared, eyes wide, looking for all the world like a deer in headlights as his face flushed slightly. Well, wasn’t that interesting.
"What?"
"You know." Jim’s tone went from light to carefully innocent, with an expression to match. "Or, well, everyone does. From what I’ve heard, the McCoys own half the town, our shop included."
"Oh. I—right." The smile turned into a bit of a grimace. "Thought you were new enough here not t’be weird about it."
"I’m not being weird, I’m giving you a hard time." Jim’s grin went from innocent to nearly impish. "I notice everything." He nodded at the customer behind Leonard. "Like that I’ve got someone waiting for me."
Leonard turned, muttering a “dammit” under his breath that was perhaps more charming than it should have been when he saw that he had been holding up the line.
"See you, Bones," Jim called, earning himself a shake of the head and a rolling of eyes.
Still, Jim didn’t miss the grin that Leonard tried to hide when Gaila called out the “Bones” on the cup of tea.
—
Leonard had it bad, and he had no idea what to do about it.
The gorgeous blond at the coffee shop—Jim, according to the nametag—had caught Leonard’s attention immediately, but he hadn’t expected that it would be mutual. Leonard had no doubt that he probably had to deal with creeps hitting on him regularly, and he didn’t want to be that person.
But if the interest seemed to be mutual…
However, Jim knew that he was a McCoy. Leonard had hoped to avoid that little bit of knowledge; leaving for school had been refreshing, finally in an environment where not everyone knew his name and family and wanted to suck up to him, even marry him for his money. And even when he had found someone who hadn’t been in it for the money…
But Bones didn’t like to think about that.
There was a good chance this was just a case of “be nice to the owner’s kid.” But Leonard ignored the little voice that told him so. Maybe Jim-the-barista wasn’t just in this for cash.
—
Jim couldn’t keep the grin off of his face when he saw Bones walk in. He waved a little, and Nyota muttered something unflattering under her breath about golden retrievers. Jim couldn’t really bring himself to be bothered—it was better than the complaints about his moping. Jim never moped.
He put the tea on as soon as Bones walked in, scribbling the nickname on the cup and showing it to Gaila, who was on register. She rolled her eyes and tried not to smile.
Jim watched out of the corner of his eye when Bones realized that he wasn’t on the register. He barely managed to keep away the faint, smug smile when he saw the disappointment on his face, busying himself with making the drink and pretending not to notice him.
He watched, however, while Bones was preoccupied with paying and retrieving his regular pastry. The moment the pumpkin scone exchanged hands, he stepped up to the second counter.
"Bones!"
Jim watched as he jumped, then turned, hazel eyes—and wow, were they hazel; he had never noticed how gorgeous before—widening in surprise at the speed of service. Jim grinned again, brilliantly, as he handed over the tea.
"One large ‘Leonard McCoy.’ Local specialty."
Jim winked and turned away before Bones could question him, but not before he caught the charming blush spreading across those tanned and slightly freckled cheeks.
He snuck another look a few moments later. The slight blush had turned full-on red as he spotted the phone number Jim had written on the cup.
—
The dinner had been a whirlwind of laughter, of engaging conversation, of quick wit and brilliant jokes.
So much so that even Leonard had had the courage to get in a few words here and there.
The only conflict to speak of was at the end of the dinner, with the bill. Leonard gestured for it at the end, only to incur a noise of protest from Jim’s direction, a hand reaching out to try to take it.
"You’re already paying my salary. I can cover my dinner."
Leonard didn’t let go, face furrowing into a scowl.
"Your face is going to stick like that if you’re not careful."
Leonard rolled his eyes at the juvenile comment. ”It ain’t me, it’s my family, and I ain’t them. I got my own money, thanks, and I wanna treat you.”
"I don’t need charity—"
"Dammit, Jim, I’m a doctor, not a philanthropist. This ain’t charity. This is me… really likin’ you, and wanting to do this."
Jim sighed with a grimace, but he released it and leaned back. Leonard just grinned.
The incident left a slight spring in his step when they exited the restaurant.
—
Jim hid a smile as Bones finished up a story about a patient he had treated that Friday, who had been thoroughly convinced that he knew far more than the doctor until Bones had given him a thorough trouncing of knowledge, leaving him feeling quite foolish.
“You know,” Jim drawled, leaning to the side in a motion that was intended to be a bump of the shoulder but ended up being the beginning of contact that lasted as they walked, side to side. Bones’s shoulders were one of Jim’s favorite things—though, to be honest, that list went on for too long to be practical. “For being one of the nicest people I know, you’ve got what’s probably the sharpest tongue.”
Bones scoffed. “I ain’t nice!” he growled—more grumbled; there was no bite in it.
“Sure, Bones. Whatever you say.” Jim leaned over some more, sliding his hand down Bones’s arm and lacing their fingers together.
“An’ stop calling me that,” he muttered, but again, the sentiment was halfhearted, and with the way he squeezed Jim’s hand back, Jim wasn’t really convinced of his grouchiness.
The two of them came to a stop in a way that felt natural, leaning apart and then turning to the side, facing each other. Jim could see the reluctant smile pulling at Bones’s mouth, those full, soft-looking lips curving up slightly, and as he and Bones leaned in—
—
Leonard was going to get to kiss Jim.
He was actually going to get to lean in, take his face, and gently—
“Get down!”
Jim’s voice shattered the silence—the moment—as he shoved Leonard roughly to the ground.
“What the hell—!”
A gunshot cut off Leonard’s protests even faster than Jim had cut off the kissing attempt. All irritated (and otherwise) thoughts of Jim shoving him to the ground fled.
“Holy shit!” he yelped, trying to scramble backwards and failing. Jim didn’t reply; Leonard could hear him breathing heavily as he—was he protecting Leonard?
“Come on!” Jim hissed, suddenly rolling off of him, grabbing his hand, and yanking him to his feet.
“What’s goin’—”
“Shush!” Jim snapped, clutching Leonard’s arm tightly. “Shit, I should’ve known going this way would be a bad idea.”
“What?” Leonard tried to stop, but Jim was a lot stronger than he looked. “Why?”
“Look, just—be quiet, they’re chasing us!”
Leonard almost risked a look behind them, but thought better of it and followed Jim’s lead as he dodged between buildings and down smaller alleyways and roads. Before long, Leonard, who had grown up in the town, was nearly confused, head spinning at the irregularity of their route.
“Are you gonna explain what’s goin’ on?” Leonard hissed, keeping his voice low. “And that’s only got one proper answer, kid, or I’m gonna start screamin’.”
“You’ll get yourself killed, then,” Jim snapped, pulling the two of them around a corner and peering out to check for their pursuers. “If I let go, and tell you what’s going on, will you follow me?”
“Deal,” Leonard panted, not having it in him to argue.
“Those guys we’re running from? Serial kidnappers.” At Leonard’s disbelieving scoff, he turned, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously.” He jerked his head, indicating for Leonard to follow, and stepped out onto another road, one that Leonard at least recognized. It was busier, at least, so they were at least slightly less likely to get killed. Or kidnapped. Whatever.
“They’ve been targeting the children of rich individuals in more remote towns. My agency—stop rolling your eyes, Bones!—dispatched several of us to keep an eye on the most likely targets.”
“And I was one of ‘em.” Leonard kept his voice flat—at least, as flat as he could around the panting. He was fit enough, but he wasn’t an Olympian, and all of this running was beginning to leave him with a stitch in his side.
“Yeah. Not a high likelihood, but we figured we’d cover all of our bases.”
“Lucky me,” he growled, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “So what you’re tellin’ me is that you went undercover and got t’know me just t’keep an eye on me.”
Jim inhaled sharply at that, pausing for just a moment. “I—” He turned, meeting Leonard’s eyes, but they quickly slid down and away. “Come on. In here.”
Well, that told Leonard all he needed to know.
—
Jim rubbed his palms on his eyes, thinking quickly. He glanced over at Leonard, who had followed him inside to the courthouse. Jim had figured that it was the closest and safest option when being chased by criminals. Leonard was now bending over, hands on his knees, breathing heavily. Jim would let his date—or, well, ex-date, if the expression a few moments earlier had been any indication, though he tried to shove away the feeling of dread whenever he thought about that—rest for a few moments while he decided where to take Bones.
The police station was out. It was across town, for one, and the kidnappers would likely expect that and prepare to head them off. He had seen five or six, at least, and there was no way to tell that more might not be waiting. They also apparently had no interest in taking Jim alive, given how they had just tried to shoot him earlier.
“Oh, thank goodness.” A sharp female voice rang out in the air as a woman who appeared to be in her fifties or so stepped into the room. “You must be the eight o’clock. You’re late.”
Both Bones and Jim stared at her, bewildered. Jim glanced over at the clock; it read eight fifteen.
Bones was still staring at her, and she narrowed her eyes. “You are the eight o’clock, right? If not, we don’t tolerate loitering—”
“Yes,” Jim interrupted, earning himself a glare. “We’re the eight o’clock.”
She sniffed and walked over to a side room, pulling papers off of her desk and handing them over. “Good. Each of you fill these out.” She pointed to a table, where they both sat.
Jim filled out the form, whatever it was, without really paying attention. The agency’s safehouse wasn’t an option either. He was strictly forbidden to bring anyone there, unless they were immediate family, and Jim wasn’t really in the mood to be arrested for treason that week on top of everything else.
“Jim.” Leonard’s voice was a slightly more distracting, well, distraction. “I don’t think we should be—”
“Do it, or she’ll bite our heads off,” he hissed. “And we really don’t need a scene right now.”
“But—”
“Do you know anywhere we can go that’ll be safer than this?”
“Uh, the police—”
“Not an option. Too far.” If only he hadn’t left his agency phone at home—there had been no room in his slacks’ pockets, not alongside his wallet and other phone. That wasn’t an option either; nor was Leonard’s. He was also very not much in the mood to get disciplined for compromising the agency.
“Jim, listen—”
“Please, Bones,” he cut in, almost desperately. “Let me think.”
“But—”
Jim looked up, meeting Bones’s eyes—and inhaled sharply. His stomach did a backflip with a startling jolt when he did, forgetting how much of a distraction they could be and realizing that they were still as beautiful as Jim had thought them the day they met, across the counter at his new “job” at the coffee shop. He hadn’t expected the McCoy son, someone he had simply been assigned to keep an eye on, to turn into… something else. “I need to keep you safe. I want to keep you safe. And I have to figure out a way to do that.”
He could hear Leonard’s breath catch, see his eyes widen slightly, and hoped that might mean that he hadn’t messed everything up irreparably.
They finished filling out the forms soon after, handing them over to the pushy woman. She ushered them into another room, where three men stood waiting—
And just in time.
Within moments of being left there, Jim heard a ruckus back in the entry hall, the woman from earlier exclaiming, “Excuse me, what in the world do you think you’re doing!”
It wasn’t until Jim heard the words “lawfully-wedded husband” directed at him that he realized exactly what had happened.
He stared up at the official-looking man in front of them. At first, Jim was too bewildered and panicked to process who the company in the room was. He glanced over at Bones, who had mutiny in his eyes.
Bones had known exactly what they had gotten themselves into. He had known right from the start that they were filling out a marriage license, that one of the men was a minister, and the other two were official witnesses.
Shit.
The door behind them opened, and he could hear arguing from the back of the room. Though their backs were turned to the door, Jim recognized the voices from when they had shouted while chasing Jim and Bones.
If they turned around and were recognized, who knew what the men would do to get their hands on Bones?
“I do.”
Jim heard Bones choke from beside him, and Jim couldn’t blame him. He shot Bones a pleading look. Go along with it. His agency should be able to nullify this, right?
“And do you, Leonard McCoy, take Jim Kirk to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Bones glared mutinously at Jim for a moment, and the whispers behind them grew to low talking. “You’re interrupting a wedding! You’re in the wrong place!” For the first time, Jim was grateful for the earlier woman’s pushiness.
“I do,” Bones said through gritted teeth.
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and… husband.”
They were presented with the marriage certificate, and the arguing behind them hadn’t stopped. Jim could feel the sweat dripping down his back. What if the men were still there when they had to leave?
He signed, and it was passed to Bones. The officiator sighed and took it right as the door closed. Jim breathed a sigh of relief despite the man’s obvious displeasure. He couldn’t bring himself to care that these people were irritated due to some other couple’s tardiness.
Bones turned, risking a look behind them, and Jim did as well. The men were gone.
“Now look here.” At a time like this, of all times, Jim should not be thinking about how attractive that rough Southern drawl was. He stared at the marriage certificate, gears in his mind whirring. “We didn’t really—”
“Thank you,” Jim interrupted. “We’ll be going now.”
Bones whirled, eyes wide, as he sputtered. “What?”
Jim grabbed his arm, shooting him a pleading look. “Come on. I know where we can go.”
—
Leonard did his best to keep from yelling—or breathing fire—as Jim drove them to God knew where. He had been too angry to ask. The only conversation between the two of them had been at the car rental place, when Bones had coldly informed Jim that he was not going to be paying. Jim hadn’t argued, simply pulled out his credit card and hurriedly continued the rental.
And here Leonard had been concerned about Jim being able to afford dinner. He probably made plenty, with his real job. And who was to say that Jim was even his real name?
Would that at least mean that their marriage wasn’t legal?
Leonard was still trying to figure out why he had gone through with it. Admittedly, he hadn’t been fond of the idea of being shot or kidnapped, but he could have asked the minister to wait, at least. He hadn’t needed to go along and sign—god, he could have just pretended to sign, or have signed a fake name—!
He groaned softly, closing his eyes.
“We’re almost there.”
Jim’s voice pulled him out of his steadily darkening thoughts, and Leonard glanced over.
“What?”
Jim sighed. “Safehouse. My agency set it up just in case… something went wrong.”
“Well that it did.” Leonard didn’t even try to hide the sardonicism in his voice. “And it only just occurred to you after… everything?”
“Well…” Leonard could see Jim wince out of the corner of his eye. “I’m actually not allowed to reveal the location. Or wasn’t. Not unless you’re, uh…” He glanced over at Bones. “Immediate family. Treason and all that.”
“Jesus Christ,” Leonard muttered. “So what, now I’m immediate family?”
“Well, yeah.”
The thought of marriage—another, after the one with Jocelyn had been short-lived and disastrous—made his stomach turn. Even if it was to Jim. No, he had to correct himself. Especially if it’s to Jim. He lied, he probably doesn’t even like me—
“We’re here,” murmured the subject of his thoughts, turning off the car. Leonard glanced through the windshield: they were in front of a rather disreputable bar.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Definitely not kidding,” Jim sighed, walking towards the bar. Leonard rolled his eyes so hard that he nearly gave himself a headache and followed.
He didn’t hear exactly what Jim had said to the bartender, but he did see the suspicious glare that the woman shot Leonard. Leonard glowered right back.
“What’s he doing here?”
“Spouse,” Jim replied shortly, placing a hand on Leonard’s shoulder. He nearly shrugged it off, but then realized that probably wouldn’t do so well for their spouse charade.
Except, he had to remind himself, it wasn’t a charade.
She simply huffed, then turned, leading them behind the counter, out a back door, into a storeroom—
And then opened a trapdoor that had been disguised so well in the ground that Bones hadn’t even realized it was there.
“Are you serious?” he sputtered, staring down into the dark space that seemed to have no bottom.
“Very much so.” He nodded at the bartender, who shrugged her shoulders and headed out of the room. Jim descended into what looked like a pit from hell, but the moment he touched the ground, lights flickered on to reveal a room that was… decidedly not.
“Oh,” he muttered, then followed Jim down.
The room was sparse, with just a bed, desk, a couch, and cupboards, inside one of which was a microwave. Jim was digging around in the desk when Leonard came down, but before he could ask why, Jim pulled back, a phone in his hand.
“Give me a moment,” he said quietly, not meeting Leonard’s eyes before ascending the stairs once again.
Leonard sighed and flopped down on the couch, scowling even harder at how uncomfortable it was. When Jim returned, he glared over at him.
“You know, this wasn’t how I had been planning on spending my evening.”
"I know.” Jim’s tone was almost meek, and it unsettled Leonard. “I hadn’t, either. But those guys were trying to—”
“Kidnap me. I know,” Leonard replied sharply. “But it seems like that’s the only damn thing I know right now.”
Jim sighed, going over to sit next to him, but Leonard’s body language seemed to make him reconsider. Instead, he went over and perched on the bed.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Damn right you should be!” Leonard burst out, crossing his arms and glaring. “Y’know, when I asked you out, I thought—I knew who you were. And now I don’t even know your real name!”
“It’s Jim.” His voice was quiet. “Jim Kirk. That’s real.”
“And you’re not a barista.”
“Well, technically I am. I’m just… not just a barista.”
Leonard clenched his fists, and Jim hurriedly continued. “I’m not saying that makes it any better. I know it was… shitty of me. I just couldn’t.” His eyes, still those gorgeous baby blues that had captivated Leonard the first time they had spoken, were pleading, and Leonard could feel himself crack slightly before hardening his resolve.
“But you were fine enough to date me. Or was that part of your whole… keepin’ me close bullshit? Knew that I’d be vulnerable after my last marriage fell apart, willin’ to open up to a kind ear?” Leonard knew he was snarling, and he didn’t care. “I have no idea who you are.”
Jim blinked, startled. “Last marriage? Bones, I didn’t—”
“Sure you didn’t.” Leonard’s voice was flat. “Ain’t you a professional liar?”
Jim shook his head. “No! I…” He winced. “I didn’t really get a lot of information on you, just that you were the only child of a rich family.” He grimaced. “So I guess you could say that’s why I started talking to you, but… well, not in the way you’d usually expect.” He glanced over at Leonard, expression slightly hopeful, trying to draw him in with humor.
Leonard kept his face stoic.
Jim sighed. “Right. Just… yeah.”
“One other thing.”
Jim looked up.
“Are we legally married?”
“I—yeah, I think so. It’s the only reason I could bring you here.” He gestured, but then looked slightly hopeful. “Means we can share a bed without it being all scandalous, though.”
“You gotta be kiddin’—we gotta stay here all night?”
“It would be safer.” Jim nodded. “I called my agency with the phone I found. They’ll… they’ve been alerted, and will contact us when it’s safe to go back. And that couch is uncomfortable.”
“Wonderful.” Leonard rubbed his eyes. “If you kick me, I’m kicking back.”
—
The bed would have barely fit Jim if he had been alone. Together, trying to get comfortable, Jim felt remarkably like a sardine.
At least he had talked Bones out of sleeping on the couch, though the man seemed only slightly more keen to share a bed sandwiched against Jim. They had a brief discussion over who got to be big spoon, which Jim only let Bones win because he wasn’t really in a position to be asking anything from Bones right now, not with how angry he was.
Jim couldn’t really blame him. It had been his own mistake, getting involved when he knew he couldn’t be open with Bones. There had just been something about the doctor that had drawn him in—but he supposed that didn’t do Bones much good.
"Goodnight, Bones," Jim murmured, feeling perhaps a bit guilty for enjoying this as much as he did. True, he had hoped that they might be spending the evening in bed together in a quite different fashion, but this was… at least some sort of a consolation.
Bones didn’t respond.
Jim sighed. ”I am sorry,” he murmured again. ”For deceiving you.”
Silence for a few more moments. Right as Jim was about to give up any hope of a reply, Bones’ drawl rumbled in his ear.
" Just tell me one thing, kid."
"Mm?" Jim settled cautiously back into him, just a little more.
"Were you just datin’ me to keep an eye on me?"
Jim sighed. ”No. That… was my mistake. “
"Mistake?" Much as Bones might have been pretending not to care, Jim could hear the note of hurt in his voice.
"My agency wouldn’t have liked it." Jim smiled faintly, where Bones couldn’t see him. "I kinda went off protocol on that one. I liked—I like you a lot."
There was no response.
Jim was about to apologize, thinking that he had angered Bones again, when he heard a soft, steady inhale. Bones had fallen asleep.
He sighed, wondering if Bones had heard. Wondering what he had thought. A few minutes later he turned, cautiously, praying that Bones was a heavy sleeper, and faced him.
"I’m sorry," he murmured. "I really am."
He slid his hands up, hesitantly, to cup Bones’ face. He was always gorgeous, but in sleep, he had a vulnerability, a softness that Jim had never seen on him before, and an openness that Jim had only ever seen when Bones laughed.
He wondered if he would ever see Bones laugh again.
He leaned forward, slightly, eyes on Bones’ lips. They still hadn’t kissed yet; it was certainly a temptation, when this might be his only chance.
He sighed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on Bones’s for a moment, before pulling back and settling in for sleep.
—
Leonard woke up to a noisy alarm and a snuffling Jim’s face buried in his shoulder. He sighed, sleepily running his fingers through the back of Jim’s hair, sighing contentedly.
And then the alarm woke him up enough to remember where they were.
"Jim," he hissed, nudging at the arms locked tightly around his waist. "Get up."
Jim grunted, pulling Leonard closer. Leonard sighed, then grabbed Jim’s wrists, pulling them open so he could wriggle out. “Your damn phone is ringing!”
That caused Jim to shoot up, hair sticking out at odd angles. He looked vaguely panicked for a moment before lunging for the phone and answering it. “Kirk here.”
Leonard snorted as he talked, mostly “mhm”s and “affirmatives.” He supposed Jim had already given all of the information he had needed to last night, and simply watched the way he had snapped to attention, all youthful exuberance and puppylike energy. He reached out, not really thinking, and smoothed Jim’s hair down.
Jim turned to give him a sunny grin, almost shy in its hesitance, and Leonard felt his heart flip. He tried to conceal the sharp inhale, the slight flush in his cheeks, and looked away, locking his hands behind his back.
Jim hung up the phone and turned back to Bones, still smiling, but this time close-lipped, with more than a hint of sadness in his face.
“They’ve got them. All of them. We can go back now. You’re safe.”
The flip of his stomach turned into a drop. Leonard didn’t understand why. He was safe, wasn’t he? This entire ordeal could be forgotten—
And Jim would move on to his next mission, forgetting Leonard along with everything else.
He nodded and followed Jim mutely to the car, sitting in similar silence for the drive back, which seemed to be much longer than it had been on the way there. Though he didn’t speak, he continued to glance over at Jim’s hand, resting on the armrest, before hesitantly reaching over to touch it with his own.
Jim glanced over, startled, and Leonard looked away quickly. But he could see Jim smile out of the corner of his eye as they laced their fingers together.
I’m sorry. I really am.
The words floated through Leonard’s brain; hazy from the half-sleep that had clouded his head when he heard Jim say them.
Leonard didn’t let go until they reached his home.
“So, uh, you gonna return the car?” Leonard winced slightly, hoping that Jim didn’t notice as he unlocked the door.
“That’s the plan,” Jim replied carefully. “I’m lucky it didn’t get damaged. I’ve got a bit of a… history.”
“I’ll bet you do,” Leonard muttered, finally managing to slide his key into the lock. Turning it, he swallowed, opening the door and turning to look, really look, at Jim.
“My agency will send some papers, once I head back, to get this nullified. The…” He gestured at Leonard’s ringless hand. “The marriage. If you want.”
Leonard sighed, then shrugged noncommittally, not really knowing what to say. It would have been harder to tell Jim to get lost than to have kicked a lost puppy.
“So, uh, what’s the plan after this? For you.”
Jim shrugged. “Don’t know. Guess I’ll ask for a new assignment. Should probably at least put in my notice at the coffee shop.” He didn’t look especially thrilled at the idea.
“Any idea where it’d be? Not someplace local?”
Jim’s head jerked up quickly, hope in his blue eyes. “It could be. Why do you ask?”
Leonard was silent for a moment, weighing his options, before making his decision.
He reached out, grabbed the front of Jim’s shirt, and tugged him in for a kiss.
It was even better than Leonard had imagined, since the first day he had seen Jim in that shop. His hand slid down Jim’s side, around to his back, and tugged him in closer, gently, and Jim’s hands went up to cup his face before he pulled back suddenly.
“I—I need to go—the time limit, on the papers—twenty-four hours—”
“Forget the papers,” Leonard muttered, stepping back over the door’s threshold, tugging Jim along with him as he drew him in for another kiss.