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It was quiet in the dorm, McCoy thought as he walked in. Dropping his stuff on the nearest desk he walked further into the room. Pulling off his shirt he grabbed a grey hoodie from the back of the couch. Pulling the grey fabric down, he belatedly realized that it was Jim's but couldn't be bothered to take it off. Jim had a habit of wearing his clothes despite numerous threats and halfhearted grumbles. He couldn't last long against those wounded puppy looks and halfhearted attempts to get appeased, it only lasted a few weeks before McCoy gave up. Kirk had been a proud peacock for a while afterward walking around in one of his old Old Miss medical shirts. They were shirts that were worn with age and fraying at the seams but there was something about Jim wearing his shirts that brought out something instinctively and protectively possessive in him. It also made Jim look years younger in shirts that were worn with age and much to big in the shoulders, something that amused him greatly.
Looking around the dorm, McCoy could only smile at the mess of two men sharing a room. It was comforting to come home to, and surprising to think that a dorm at Starfleet Academy as home when home use to be a wife and daughter, a farm and stables, an upcoming chief surgeon. All down the drain after his father's death, but in the long run he thinks he gained something more. He barely sees his daughter but she knows he loves her. He was just lucky that his position as a surgeon had warranted him a suite even with his late admission, although seeing as he wasn't the only late admission he was sharing a room with the man from the shuttle. He never thought that he'd make it this long at the academy but he was thankful for the blond whirlwind known as Jim Kirk.
Jim who was probably out partying or he'd have popped up from where ever he was hiding in their rooms. Crashing onto the sofa, McCoy groaned as his body sank into the cushions, it was only then that he heard shuffling broken only by the occasional snuffle. It was coming from the direction of their bedroom, leaning his head back McCoy took in the sight of Jim wearing one of his uglier flannels and a dead look in his eye. McCoy would have shot up had he though Jim would welcome it, but the younger man only continued his shuffle towards the couch. Jim dropped like a sack of potatoes half on top of him half beside him McCoy grunted at the force but rearranged his and Jim's position on the couch thankfully made for two. As Leonard brought his hand up Jim buried his face into the fabric just over Leonard's heart, his arms coming to circle Leonard's upper body, pulling the to tight fabric even tighter against McCoy's chest. But the only thing that Leonard had concern for was the blond haired man sobbing in his arms, drowning in a need for comfort.
Thousands of thoughts ran through his head, but the only one that stayed was his need to heal, his need to fix this. Jim who had never broken, was racketed with soul crushing sobs. He clung tighter, running his other hand through hair, down a racing pulse to a hitching back that rattled with pain and up again, all while anchoring Jim to him with his other hand holding the red flannel tightly keeping his blue eyed boy with him, trying to keep him from a response of flight. It was heartbreaking in its simplicity, Jim who hid behind his tough outer shell had cracked. Shuffling around to get slightly more comfortable brought tightening arms and strong tremors, tightening his hold on Jim's shirt, Leonard raised a leg to push himself slightly higher on the couch. His other arm falling to rest at the base of Jim's neck.
He wasn't going anywhere, closing his eyes Leonard let out a rush of breath as he turned his face towards Jim, lightly golden skin was blotchy with tears it would have been endearing had they been two leads in a story comforting each other, it would have brought Joyclyn to tears. But this wasn't a story.
Jim turned his head to face Leonard's, blue eyes puffy and red, tear tracks that his thumb traced slowly, trying to erase the physical since he couldn't fix the emotional. Jim snuggled in closer, as sobs slowed his body still hitching randomly, Leonard kept his eyes on the other man as he settled for running his fingers soothingly through the short hairs on the back of Jim's head, the heel of his hand resting reassuringly against Jim's pulse. The blond hummed as he settled, his hold just as strong one hand grasping at a shoulder while the other held tightly to the grey fabric resting just to the left of Leonard's slowing heart.
“Jim.” Leonard muttered as blue eyes closed slightly, his only response a deep breath and a squeeze.
“Not now Bones.” Jim whispered, his voice cracking as he nestled more comfortably over Leonard's chest. His head coming to rest just below Leonard's chin, and for now Leonard would let Jim keep his secrets.