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Jim awoke, without the hangover he had coming. As usual.
Stretching stiffly, he frowned at Bones’ head pillowed awkwardly on the bed, his full lips crumpling as Jim’s touch coaxed him from sleep.
‘Why do you keep doing this?’
‘You’d hate it if I didn’t, kid,’ he slurred, groping blindly for his tricorder and cringing as Jim caught his hand.
‘Bones.’
Raw hazel eyes met him, looked nervously away. ‘Know what it’s like,’ he muttered. ‘You don’t deserve it, Jim.’
‘Neither did you.’ Bones’ stubbled jaw was perfect beneath his mouth as Jim kissed his way towards recognition, towards truth.