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“Don’t look at me like that Jim, this place was your recommendation and anything’s better than that electro-whatever place Sulu wanted us to go to.”
“Oh please.” Jim said, shooting back the rest of his shot and grimacing slightly around it as he said, “Sulu was joking, he knows he can’t drink for shit there’s no was he was serious about that place. Their drinks are straight vodka and some syrupy shit. I’m sure he just talked it up before bailing out.”
“Yeah, but do you really wanna take that risk?” Nodding his agreement, Jim placed his glass down on the weathered wooden bar and leaned back to glance over the crowded dance floor, cracking his neck as he craned to glance around the whole of the bar.
It would've been a stretch to even call the place a dive bar, it was worse by a mile than anything Jim had ever seen, but he didn’t know anything worse to call a place. But Leonard was right, as much as it absolutely pained, it was a hell of a lot better than whatever the others had planned for tonight.
They had been on Terrain Earth for less than two days, shore leave mostly used in order to cycle in a new round of Ensigns who needed their ‘hands-on’ work experience, but Jim was already bored.
Sighing -as well as shooting back the rest of his drink in one gulp- Jim turned to Leonard with a grin on his face as he asked, “Up for a round of pool?” Looking past Jim and towards the pool table crowded in the far back and surrounded by a couple tough looking guys nursing domestic beers, Leonard knew what Jim really wanted.
A little bit of action,found through swindling those guys out of a little hard earned cash with some charm and a dash of magic.
“Gambling doesn’t sound too appealing,” Leonard said, gesturing for the bartender to top him off as he continued, “but I’d be more than interested in watching you make a damned fool of yourself at those tables.”
Perking up slightly, Jim turned to him and asked, “Is that a challenge?”
“If you want it to be.”
“Twenty minutes,” Jim said, glancing up at the clock and then down at his watch before sliding off the barstool and adding, “to get two hundred bucks, time me.” Leonard rolled his eyes but checked the clock nonetheless.
The first ten minutes sailed by with ease, Leonard switched to water after his third drink when his hearing had started to go just fuzzy enough that he couldn’t hear Jim from across the room. And like hell was he gonna miss a word he said.
Twelve minutes in Jim had finally started a real game, having spent the first few acting far more tipsy than Len knew he was until the other guys were grinning at the prospect to getting some easy money from Jim. Leonard rolled his eyes and took another slow sip of his water, not willing to admit to himself that he was interested in watching Jim play circles around the other guys crowded around the table.
Twenty minutes in and Len’s attention was stolen away by a soft, manicured hand on his shoulder -and then moments later, his jaw- followed by a cool voice asking, “You sitting here all alone?” The women’s hair was some sort of metallic blue, shining holographically in the dim lights of the bar, and it matched her eyes perfectly. Her gaze was unwavering, and for a moment it reminded Bones of the green-blooded hobgoblin he had seen earlier that same day walking hand and hand with Nyota, and Leonard turned away from her gaze to gesture to where Jim was leaning over the pool table.
“For the moment sadly darlin’ I do,” He said, hand holding onto his cup despite it’s emptiness as he leaned away from the women’s cold hands, “I got an idiot over there.” The woman's gaze followed back across Len’s shoulder blades and towards where he had inclined his head, her brows (also the same metallic shade as her hair but far, far darker) furrowed slightly as though she were a child having lost the same game thrice in a row.
“I see.” She said, and Len glanced down at his wristwatch (twenty-five minutes had passed) in order to further draw his attention away from her sly passes, but he focused fully on her when she said, “Looks like your idiot could use a bit more attention.”
Whipping his head around, his signature catchphrase of ‘dammit Jim’ already about to leave his lips, Bones saw exactly what he knew he would: Jim, backed up against those damned tables, his pool cue discarded on the floor while he took on two guys with his left already already darkened and his top lip bleeding.
Now Leonard wasn't usually a man inclined towards violence, he’d taken the hippocratic oath alongside the rest of his classmates who were just as old fashioned as he was, but in this situation Len hardly had an patience for talking it out.
And it looked like Jim’s opponents shared that sentiment.
He shoved his way past the small crowd, half of them drunk and the other simply bored, that had formed around the fight and suddenly found himself right in the middle of the action.
“Bones!” Jim’s exuberant exclamation rang through to him clearly, and Len delayed responding so to deliver a clear right hook to the man about ready to crack his fist down onto Jim’s skull.
“Don’t you think for a second I’m on your side kid, hell I’m pretty sure I got more of a reason to hit you then these bastards.” Leonard muttered as he slide forward to literally stand back-to-back with Jim who only laughed in response as he blocked another fist coming towards him while he kicked it’s owner sharply in the gut.
In a blur of fists, shouts, and Len tugging at JIm’s shirt in attempt to yank the younger man towards the exit, Leonard finally found himself breathing in the cold night air while the bar owner yelled out profanities as the door slammed behind them.
“Who! What. A. Rush.” Jim said, his chest heaving slightly and Len could see a faint flush (whether it be from the alcohol or the fight Len didn’t know, and frankly didn’t care) staining his cheeks and neck.
“What the hell was that Jim?” Len demanded, the night air not cooling his temper at all, as he hurried forward to follow behind Jim who had begun to leisurely stroll through the late night city streets.
“What was what Bones?”
“Don’t you play smart.” Len snapped, rubbing his hands together as they began to slip into an uncomfortable chill, before turning back to Jim (who seemed entirely unbothered by the late night almost early morning chill) and asking, again, “What the hell was the fight about? I thought you were trying to win a bit of bragging cash not get yourself impaled by a fucking pool cue.”
Jim shot him a look as to emphasize how absolutely ridiculous Bones was obvious being, at least from his perspective, as he explained, “They were bothering some girl, a pretty little thing Bones ya would’ve loved her she cussed almost as hard as you, but one of the guys went for a grab and then one thing lead to another…” He waved his hands and trailed off, before laughing quietly to himself and saying, “Her face when I punched the guy though, priceless.”
Jim staggered slightly as he walked, and Bones -despite himself- found himself moving towards the other man in order to allow Jim to rest his weight onto him as they walked.
“Why do you always have to start fights. Jesus sometimes I think you must have a hero complex Jim.”
“Does that make you my sidekick?” Jim asked, laughing, and Leonard sighed to himself because damn Jim was drunk. The lips pressed against his moments later verified his claim and Leonard rolled his eyes as Jim pressed up against him and bite at his lips with little force.
Hands grabbed mindlessly at his coat and shirt, and Len had to remind himself that they were in public in dammit as he fought the urge to push back against Jim with equal enthusiasm as Jim’s warmth pressed fully up against him.
“Jim. Jim. Jim. Len said, in between Jim’s drunken attempts to kiss him, “Jim you’re still bleeding.”
“You’re into weird stuff Bones, maybe we should try something new.” Was Jim’s response, and as his tongue darted out to meet Leonard’s own the doctor rolled his eyes and pulled away fully snapping, “Alright you’re drunker than I thought. We are getting you home now, so I can patch you up and put you to bed.”
“You wanna take me to bed?” Jim asked, waving his eyebrows in a manner that Len supposed was supposed to be sensual but only served in making Jim look more drunk.
“I said put you to bed. And you’ll be alone if you don’t start walkin’.” Len replied, wrapping an arm around Jim’s shoulders tighter than he normally would and began walking, ignoring Jim’s cry of protest as they made their way back to the temporary apartment Jim had leased out.
Twenty minutes later, twice as long as it should’ve taken due to Jim’s constant drunken babbling and Len’s forgetfulness at how heavy Jim actually was, they were back.
Sighing upon entry, Len eased Jim down onto the couch as he began rifling through his medic bag in order to find the dermal regenerator he knew he had brought with him.
“Stop fidgeting.” Len muttered as he began to bring the hypospray he had prepared, in order to counteract whatever bacteria Jim had gotten into busted lip, while Jim attempted to move away from his hand wincing as he did so (his mind finally catching up to the physical pain he should've been feeling an hour ago).
“You know Bones,” Jim said, sluggishly moving to push Len’s hand away, “I’m not even that busted up, we don’t need-”
“Don’t you go telling fibs.” Leonard interrupted, bringing the hypo down in the midst of Jim’s denial before beginning to regenerate the darkened skin around his eyes, bruised knuckles, and slits along his lips. They sat in silence for a moment, Jim’s face cradled between Len’s hands while the doctor ran the beeping machinery across his face in steady, controlled motions.
“Reminds you of the academy huh?”
“Why?” Bones asked, dabbing away the last of Jim’s blood (which had begun to dry around his split lips), “Because we’re up late at night with me fixing you up after a fight you started?” Jim nodded in agreement, humming some old song Bones thought he might know while he continued to clean off Jim’s lips.
“Bones?” Jim asked, after another minute of silence.
“Hm?” Leonard responded, mind still focused on fixing Jim’s face which was positioned only centimeters away from his own, those clear, blue eyes coasting up his face with precision almost matching that that Len used as he cleaned Jim up.
“You’re a hell of a lot prettier than that girl was.” For a moment Leonard lowered the regenerator as he laughed, Jim’s words cutting through his annoyance easily, and he leaned back on his heels for a moment before Jim’s freshly regenerated lips were pressed against his own.
“Thanks for letting’ me know kid.” Len said in between tastes of Jim’s bourbon flavoured lips and candy sweet tongue, allowing Jim to continue kissing him because he had fixed up Jim’s bleeding and honestly Jim’s hands running up his chest where distracting his mind well enough.
“Just wanted to make sure you knew,” Jim said, nipping at Len’s lips as he pushed the older man down towards the couch, “that I’d start a bar fight for you as well.” Leonard laughed into Jim’s lips, the younger man’s drunken rambles entertaining him far more than it should have, and pulled Jim up against him.
“I’ll keep it in mind, although you not bleeding all over my carpet might be a better show of your affections.” This time Jim laughed in response, the sound rushing over Len’s ears as Jim tipped his head back before returning his lips to Leonard's own and letting his fingers run down the doctors chest.
Len’s mind -for a moment- wandered over to the alka seltzer tablets on the coffee table (a slight antique, but fool proof, cure for the hangover he damn well knew Jim was going to have tomorrow morning), but Jim’s hands pulled him away from them and back to the task at hand.
And besides, the headache would do well to remind Jim why is wasn’t smart to drink and fight considering that Len was hardly in any position to currently scold the younger man.
For a moment Leonard wondered if he should pull away, send Jim to bed alone and finish the paperwork he knew he had in order to remind the younger man to stop starting bar fights dammit, but suddenly Jim’s mouth was far lower than it had been lower before and Leonard’s mind was nowhere to be found.
They could deal with the aftermath in the morning.