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Jim Kirk toed off his sandals, stepping quickly along the cool stone deck to make his way to the big blue pool, lit up and steaming slightly in the cool of the January night. Supposedly this pool was kept warm enough to use comfortably even in the dead of winter in the Sierra Nevadas, which Jim wasn’t sure he believed but he had grown up swimming in half frozen ponds in Iowa, and he wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to swim laps in the snow. Seriously, how often would he get the chance to do that? He was surprised, though, when he stepped into the pool and found the water comfortable, and not just in comparison to the icy pool deck.
“Damn,” he muttered, to himself as he was the only one out here, “There fancy ass resorts really know their stuff.”
Then, finding the temperature of the water much preferable to the chill of the air, he pulled off the hoodie he’d worn down from his room, tossed it to the side of the pool, and dove in. He took a moment to appreciate how nice the warm water felt against his skin, comfortable but not hot, before he began to swim down the pool in relaxed strokes, thinking a little on what his life had become as he swam. If he had been told 10 years ago that he’d be staying at a resort in Lake Tahoe for a few days, he never would’ve believed it. But here he was, with college in his rear view mirror, a great group of friends back in San Francisco, a fulfilling job that allowed him to help people, and enough disposable income to make this possible. Also, he knew how to snowboard now, which he’d always dreamed of doing as a kid. It had caught his eye way back in elementary school, but the Midwest wasn’t exactly known for top skiing and lift passes were quite cost prohibitive, so he hadn’t gotten to try it until he moved out to California. As it turns out, it was just as fun as he always thought it would be as a kid, although learning as an adult had come with a steeper curve than he’d been expecting. He’d gotten the hang of it, though, and liked to go a few times a season. Despite having skied in the Sierras many times since moving out here, this was his first time staying at a resort. Typically he would either just make it a day trip or rent a cabin with his friends. This time, however, he’d decided to treat himself to a solo trip to one of the nicer resorts as a sort of Christmas present to himself. He’d been torn as to if it was worth the price or not, but swimming laps as snow fell into the pool made him sure it had been.
Jim’s peace didn’t last long, though, as he was soon interrupted by a group of preteen boys doing cannonballs into the very pool he was trying to swim laps in. He didn’t begrudge them, he liked kids and in fact probably would’ve done the same thing even now if he were here with his friends, but it was proving difficult to swim with a few 12 year olds rough housing in the deep end, so he abandoned the endeavor entirely and ran - literally, it was cold as shit outside - to one of the hot tubs. It was probably best to relax his snowboard-sore muscles in the heat anyways.
He slapped the button for bubbles, and felt the tension and tightness seep out of his body as he sunk into the hot water. Time seemed to slow down as he relaxed in the hot tub, snow falling all around him and glistening off the still up Christmas lights and sticking to his half frozen hair. It was all so relaxing, in fact, that eventually he realized he was nodding off, which was just objectively a bad idea. This was probably a pretty good indication that it was time to head back to his room. It would be an early morning the next day anyways, he always liked to get out on the slopes early. That was, after all, why he was here.
Steeling himself for the onslaught of cold air, Jim took a last moment to appreciate the warm water before jumping out of the hot tub and making a run back for the pool deck where he’d left his hoodie, shoes, and room key. His first problem was pretty apparent right off the bat. The kids who’d been playing in the pool had gone in about 10 minutes ago, but in his haste to get from the pool to the hot tub Jim hadn’t bothered to move his hoodie, which was still sitting on the pool deck and now soaking wet. He cursed, picking up the water-logged hoodie that seemed colder than the air itself at this point, then slipped on his shoes. It wasn’t the biggest deal in the world. He’d grab a towel from the hotel gym once he got back inside, and it was all of maybe 50 feet to the door, but still. Irritating. He couldn’t even blame the kids for it. After all, it was him who left his hoodie right by the side of the pool.
It was well below freezing and he was soaking wet, so Jim walked as quickly as he could without slipping on the ice back to the hotel, yanked open the door, and...well, he didn’t really yank open the door, instead he just yanked his shoulder back so hard he nearly let go of the handle and fell backwards onto his ass. Right, the exterior doors of the hotel all locked after 10 pm. That was fine, he’d put his room key in his hoodie pocket before he left so he wouldn’t get locked out of his room, regardless of what time he finished up at the pool. Jim shoved his hand in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie, felt around the damp fabric, and felt a whole lot of nothing.
“Goddammit,” he cursed. The damn card must’ve fallen out of his pocket. Probably at some point between the door and the pool where he’d left his hoodie. But, upon retracing his steps, his card was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t next to the pool, or under chairs, or just off the path back to the door. It wasn’t, as far as he could tell, anywhere. Fuck. Well, it seemed like his only option was rapidly becoming hoping someone would see him and let him in.
That did not go as planned, which seemed like it was becoming the motto of his night. He jumped the fence around the pool, feeling quite like he used to in his trouble making days, though a bit more cold, and high-stepped through the snowy paths. Peering into the side doors didn’t yield any luck, nor, annoyingly, did the damn front door. The valet took one look at Jim, wearing just swim shorts and sandals, wet and freezing wandering around in the dead of night, and declared that if he didn’t have his room key or any photo ID he wasn’t going to be allowed in for the night. The guy at the door probably thought Jim was just some drunk weirdo. He wished that was the case, maybe alcohol would make him feel warmer.
Just as he was trying to figure out how to distract the valet at the door so he could sneak in before he turned into a popsicle, he spotted a figure headed towards one of the side doors of the hotel and took off running.
“Hey, hey you!” he called, but the man didn’t turn around. Dammit, Jim was going to lose the guy, he already had the door open and he didn’t see how he’d make it fast enough to sneak in behind him. He tried to run faster, a tricky task in sandals, and was just thinking about the fact that he was probably going to get frostbite on his toes when his feet slid out from under him and he fell on his ass, hard.
“Motherfucker!” Jim half cursed, half yelped. As it turns out, landing on his ass seemed to be the only thing he could do to get the man going into the hotel to look back at him. And, of course, the man didn’t just look back, he carefully made his way across icy paths to where Jim was slowly standing up, trying not to fall again.
“Shit, are you okay?” the man asked, voice accented with a slight southern drawl.
“Yeah, this is sorta the least of my problems right now,” Jim grumbled, standing up and rubbing at his sore ass while giving the man a once over. Damn, his potential rescuer was hot. Or, at least, Jim figured he probably was. He was so bundled up it was difficult to tell, but his cheeks were delightfully flushed and what Jim saw had definite potential. More importantly, however, was the key card in his hand.
The man, Jim noticed, was looking him over as well, not quite in an appreciative way but more in a confused way. Such were the perils of running around in just his swim shorts in January. Everyone thought he was crazy.
“The hell are you doing, kid? You’re gonna get hypothermia, walkin’ around like that.”
“Thanks, I’m definitely doing it on purpose. Please let me in behind you, it’s fucking freezing out here. I promise I’m not on bath salts just doing this so I can eat your face or something.”
“Well, I coulda told ya that one.”
“What, you know a lot about bath salts?”
“I work in an emergency department. I see all sorts of shit. However, you not being on bath salts isn’t a good reason for me to let you in the damn hotel, assuming you got turned away at the front door.”
“Look, man, I’m not stupid enough to run around like this in January on purpose. I was out at the pool and lost my damn keycard, I can’t get back in the building. I promise I’m saying here and I promise I’m not crazy.”
“I’ve met plenty of crazy people who say they ain’t crazy, do better. I’m freezing all the way down to my bones out here, so make it quick.”
“You’re cold?! I’m soaking wet and practically naked! Or, well, at least I was soaking, now I think I’m just covered in a thin layer of ice. Tell me, Bones, you a nurse or a doctor? Or other?”
“Doctor, and my name isn’t
Bones
. Not that it matters to you.”
“Correct, it doesn’t. Look, Bones, I’m not a doctor but I’m pretty sure you guys have to swear an oath to do no harm. You said it yourself, I’m gonna get hypothermia walking around out here. I promise I’m not going to kill you or anything. Where would I hide a weapon, anyways? Up my ass?”
“With how you just fell I wouldn’t imagine that would be goin’ well for you,” the man he’d nicknamed Bones said, and if Jim hadn’t been so goddamn cold he probably would’ve laughed. “And I’d say you’re sooner going to break your damn teeth before you die of hypothermia, you’re shivering somethin’ fierce, I can barely understand you.”
Jim hadn’t even realized that his teeth were chattering as hard as they were. He tried to clench his jaw, but didn’t have a lot of success. Before he had a chance to respond, Bones turned around and started walking back to the hotel. Shit, was he really going to have to chase this guy again? But Bones didn’t get more than a few steps away before looking back over his shoulder and asking,
“Well, you coming or not?”
Oh, thank fuck. Walking more carefully this time to avoid reintroducing his ass to the sidewalk, he followed Bones into the side stairwell of the hotel and into blessed heat. There was a vent right inside the door, and he sighed in relief as the hot air hit his freezing cold body.
“Holy shit, thank you. You’re like the best person in my world right now, oh my God. If I run into you again while we’re here I’ll buy you drinks all night. Thank you, shit, I could practically kiss you right now.”
Bones rolled his eyes then fixed them on Jim, who was now huddling under the vent, trying to warm himself up. The man seemed to think for a moment then asked,
“What’s your name, anyways?”
“Jim Kirk. I swear shit like this doesn’t happen to me very often. Anymore.”
“Leonard McCoy,” Bones extended a hand, now free of gloves. Bones’ - McCoy’s? No, Jim liked Bones better - hands were incredibly warm against Jim’s frozen fingers, and he didn’t want to let go. He did, though, because he wasn’t about to get creepy on this guy who just saved his ass. Apparently, though, Bones beat him to it.
“Come upstairs with me,” he said, then a look of shock crossed his features as though he hadn’t meant to say it. He didn’t retract the offer, though, just elaborated, “You can’t get into your room right now, and whoever is on call at the front desk overnight obviously ain’t that helpful. My room has a couch, you’re welcome to it.”
“You’re not one of those doctors who actually accumulates medical knowledge so they can think of more creative ways to kill people, are you?” Jim asked, although he knew he was going to take Bones up on his offer. He’d gone home with sketchier figures he knew less about, and for activities far more vulnerable than crashing on a guy’s couch, although if Jim was being honest with himself, he was already letting himself hope for more. Sure, Bones was bundled up from head to toe, but he seemed cute and nice and Jim found his attitude amusing. He’d brought people home for less before.
“If I was gonna kill you, I would’ve just left you outside,” Bones pointed out, “I ain’t gonna push, but offer’s open if you want it.”
“You’re, like, the nicest person I’ve ever met. Has anyone told you that?”
“Absolutely not,” Bones shook his head, then unzipped his parka, shrugged out of it, and shoved it at Jim, “Put this on. I don’t want anyone to see me bringing a mostly nude man into my hotel room.”
Jim slipped into the jacket, which was thick and warm not just from the down but from the body heat of the man who’d just been wearing it, then turned his attention back to the man he was already thinking of as his newfound friend. Bones was wearing a slightly odd black and white sweater and pulling off a beanie to reveal ruffled dark brown hair. Jim found himself making somewhat of a second appraisal of the guy now that he was not quite so bundled up. Yup, he’d just been rescued by a hot stranger, who just so happened to be a doctor and also kind of absurdly nice. He was living in a romance novel, he was pretty sure. Or maybe just the beginning of a porno. Maybe the two weren’t mutually exclusive.
“My room’s on the fourth floor,” Bones said, oblivious to Jim’s interested gaze as he started up the stairs.
“Oh, so’s mine!” Jim started to try to catch up to him, then quickly decided maybe walking right behind him was better. Not a terrible view, all told. “I’ll figure out a way back into my room in the morning. Seriously, thanks so much.”
Bones simply grunted in response, so Jim kept talking,
“Ya know, I don’t believe you.”
“About me not trying to kill you? Then why’re you following me?”
“No, not about that, about how nobody has told you that you’re, like, the nicest person ever. Let me guess, you pretend to be grumpy and removed, but you’re actually soft and squishy on the inside. Like a marshmallow.”
“Do you want to get uninvited from my couch?” Bones threatened, not even bothering to look back over his shoulder. The threat felt largely empty. If the read Jim was getting from the man was accurate he was a lot more bark than bite, but Jim still smirked and mimed zipping his lips. He decided not to push his luck.
Bones’ room was similar to Jim’s, and in fact just down the hall. If it was like Jim’s room, the couch didn’t pull out into a bed but it was better than sleeping in the stairwell so he’d take what he could get.
“Take your damn shorts off,” Bones demanded pretty much the second they got in the door. Jim raised his eyebrows,
“Did I pass out in a snowbank? Am I still lying there right now, having weird self-insert porno fever dreams?”
“Your swimsuit is wet. You’re cold. Don’t flatter yourself, I’m not trying to see your dick that badly.”
“Ya know, that does imply that you’re trying to see my dick a little bit. Probably a better view once I warm up a little though,” Jim grinned, and Bones rolled his eyes and tossed him a thick fur blanket from off the couch, which Jim wrapped around his body before he peeled his frozen swim shorts off because really he wasn’t trying to be a total creep.
“You want any coffee?” Bones offered, fiddling with the machine on the counter, “I have decaf, so you won’t be up all night.”
“Sure,” Jim nodded, craving the warmth that would give him, even as he sat down in front of the fireplace all wrapped in a blanket.
“So, did’ya really lose your keycard, or did you just leave it in your room?”
“I did not leave it in my room. I don’t think.”
“Sound real confident about that. Here, drink. If you die of hypothermia in my room then I’m gonna be charged for it,” Bones said, pressing a steaming mug of coffee into his hands. Jim looked into the dark liquid and knit his brows together,
“You expect me to just drink this black?”
“Infat,” Bones rolled his eyes, but tossed him a couple packs of cream and sugar anyways.
“And, far be it for me to tell you, I’m not the doctor, but I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna die. Ya know, I heard the best way to warm up is skin to skin contact,” Jim grinned, mostly teasing, but also not really. He wasn’t quite sure if Bones found him attractive, but, well, the man had invited him up to his room, even if just for a place to sleep. That had to imply something. As for Jim, he did find Bones attractive. The dark hair, broad shoulders, the little flecks of green and gold in his hazel eyes, the sarcastic tone behind all his words all wrapped up in a very pretty picture, in Jim’s opinion.
“Don’t push your damn luck, you ain’t gonna die. Now hush and drink your coffee,” Bones demanded, sitting down next to Jim on the couch. Jim grinned and knocked Bones’ knee with his own,
“You’re really bossy, has anyone ever told you that?”
“Now that one I have heard before.”
Jim decided, as he sat on the couch drinking coffee, that he was going to keep Bones. He was sarcastic, not so secretly kind, stupid easy to talk to, and stunningly attractive. And, as a helpful bonus, his good Samaritan also lived in San Francisco. The two men seemed to just click right away. Jim found out that Bones neither skied nor snowboarded, and only ended up here seeking a change of scenery for a few days. Bones accused him of trying to self-sabotage his own knees when he mentioned coming up here to snowboard. Jim mocked Bones’ insistence that 30 degree weather was actually cold. It was weirdly comfortable and familiar given that they’d only just met that evening. They might have stayed up talking all night if it hadn’t been for Bones’ insistence that Jim take a hot shower to warm the rest of the way up after he finished his coffee. Jim had to admit he liked the feeling of being cared about, even if by a practical stranger who claimed he just didn’t want him to die in his hotel room, so he showered with minimal complaint.
Bones had offered Jim a pair of his sweatpants for the night, apparently not wanting Jim’s bare ass on his couch, despite having had Jim’s bare ass on his blanket for the past hour. After a long, warm shower, Jim came to realize that Bones had not, however, provided him a shirt. When Jim pulled on the gray Ole Miss sweatpants and saw that there was not in fact more clothing provided, he couldn’t help but laugh out loud. The play wasn’t subtle in the slightest, but Jim was a bit of an easy sell when it came to being seduced by the hot, sarcastic doctor who’d rescued him from the cold and apparently had really obvious moves. Not that this had ever happened before. God, he wished.
Jim ruffled his hair with a towel, adjusted the borrowed sweats to sit just below his hips, and gave himself a once over in the mirror before stepping back out into the hotel room again with a smirk already playing on his lips,
“What, do they not wear shirts in Mississippi?”
Bones was sitting on the bed, and unfortunately for Jim was still wearing a shirt, which seemed a bit unfair. Bones looked up from his phone and looked Jim up and down in a way that made Jim feel a bit like he was putting on a show. Jim soaked it in for a moment, raising an arm to pull his fingers through still wet hair, enjoying the full weight of the other man’s gaze. He allowed Bones to have his moment, then pulled his sweatpants up to a more comfortable position on his hips and sat on the edge of the bed,
“You’re really not subtle, you know that right?”
“Wasn’t tryin’ to be,” Bones drawled, his accent a touch thicker than it had been before. Jim nearly shivered from it, but then was nearly laughing when Bones followed that up with, “And I’m not from fucking Mississippi. I’m from Georgia.”
“Same dif,” Jim shrugged. Bones crossed his arms over his chest,
“I’ve changed my mind, I actually don’t want to have sex with you.”
“Ha! So you admit you do actually want to see my dick!”
“ That is what you got out of that?” Bones was smiling, just a little. Jim found he quite liked the expression.
“I try to look on the bright side of things. You’re not seriously going to deny yourself all of this just because you stubbornly refuse to concede that Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi are all interchangeable, are you?” Jim teased. He knew he may be pushing his luck, but riling Bones up was fun and he wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to push the buttons of the man he was already thinking of as his new friend just so he could get in his pants slightly quicker.
“California might as well be Washington then, by that logic,” Bones argued and before he could even realize it probably wasn’t the best idea Jim stuck out his tongue and proclaimed,
“I’m from Iowa, I don’t give a shit.”
“Iowa, Illinois, and Indiana are all the same state,” Bones proclaimed without missing a single beat. Jim gasped in mock offense, but was actually just impressed by how easily Bones seemed to keep up with him, despite the two being relative strangers. Jim rarely found someone who could keep up with his banter, who operated at his level, and who actually liked the teasing that Jim often defaulted to. What Bones seemed to get, and what a lot of other people had a hard time grasping, is that they weren’t arguing, they were playing .
“Ya know what, I’ll take my chances outside, actually,” Jim said, crossing his arms over his chest, a mirror of the position Bones was still sitting in. The pair made eye contact for a few moments, then burst out laughing. Jim lay back on the bed, and was still giggling when all of a sudden Bones moved into his space, snapped,
“You’re an obnoxious son of a bitch,” and then kissed him. Jim was stunned for a moment, but he kissed Bones back, scrambling to sit up a bit to improve his angle as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss.
“Maybe I should be obnoxious more often,” Jim mumbled into Bones’ lips, pulling away slightly to speak before kissing him again. Goddamn was this man a good kisser.
“Something tells me that ain’t exactly a struggle for you,” Bones teased, moving his soft lips down to kiss along Jim’s jaw. “Ya know you don’t owe me this, right?”
“Huh?” Jim asked, not sure if what Bones had said truly didn’t make sense or if he was just too distracted by the kissing to comprehend it. That must have been the wrong thing to say, because Bones drew back in a way that made Jim make a pathetic sort of noise.
“I don’t want you doing this because you think you owe me for letting you crash here. Couch is yours, regardless.”
Jim blinked at him, then nodded,
“Yeah, you were definitely full of shit earlier when you said I was the first person to accuse you of being absurdly nice. I wanna do this ‘cause you’re hot and funny, is that okay with you?”
“Yeah,” Bones agreed, leaning back into Jim’s space again, “We can work with that.”
“I’m not going back to the couch,” Jim mumbled into Bones’ chest later, all tired, warm, and intensely satisfied.
“I never asked you to,” Bones said, sounding quite exhausted himself. It had been good, with Bones. Jim had gone home with a number of relative strangers in his day, back before he’d made it a goal to stop using sex as a distraction from his problems, but this had felt different. It was so weirdly easy to let his guard down around Bones, which should’ve scared him, but instead Jim just felt oddly comfortable. He could see himself getting used to this man being around in his life. In fact, he was already weirdly attached to the idea of this not being a one time thing.
“Ya know,” Jim yawned, then rolled off Bones’ chest and propped his head up on his hand, “I try not to do one night stands much these days.”
“Broke your New Year’s resolution already, huh?”
“I’ll buy you breakfast in the morning. I think we could then just label this a weird, out of order date.”
Bones looked over at him, smile more in his hazel eyes than on his lips, and said, “If I buy you dinner when we get back to San Francisco, I don’t think it counts as a one night stand at all.”
Oh, good, so Jim wasn’t weird for being invested in seeing him again. Or, well, maybe he still was weird, but he wasn’t alone in it, which was fine by him.
“It’s a date.” Jim couldn’t keep himself from grinning, and didn’t try. He wasn’t the best at dating, but he couldn’t think of a better reason to give it a go. “Ya know, I’m actually happy I lost my room key now.”
“God help me, what am I getting myself into?” Bones complained dramatically and Jim kissed him quickly, intent on shutting him up. It was remarkably effective.