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They had met at a little café, in the early afternoon; lots of people were there to get lunch. The café’s interior was cramped; there was hardly any space between the door and the counter, and the bit of room left over was filled with as many tables that could fit inside (which was only, like… three). There were a few more tables outside on the sidewalk, all occupied -- it was a gorgeous day, perfect for eating outside.
Jim Kirk leaned against the counter inside the building, waiting for his food to come to him. He glanced around, trying to spot a place to sit down, but to no avail. Every seat was taken; a few people were even sitting on the floor by the window.
Except for one chair.
The moment Jim received his food -- a ridiculously cheesy grilled cheese sandwich, and an outrageously adorable parfait -- he stepped over to that one empty chair. Across from that chair, on the other side of the table, sat probably one of the grumpiest-looking people Jim had ever seen, and suddenly he understood why nobody had tried to sit there.
Jim, however, wasn’t about to sit on the floor to try to eat his food.
“Hey,” he said nonchalantly, sitting down in the chair and placing his plate in front of him. “Mind if I sit here?”
The guy sitting across from him had been mid-bite when Jim spoke, and he slowly lowered his sandwich back down onto his plate before staring incredulously at Jim. “Seems like you’ve already sat down,” he stated matter-of-factly before picking his sandwich back up. “Somehow I get the feeling you wouldn’t leave even if I said I did mind.”
“Haha, you’re probably right.” Jim smiled and slid his parfait closer to himself before spooning out some of the yogurt and taking a bite. Grouchy Man sitting across from him continued eating his sandwich silently, staring pretty intently down at his own plate. “You like the grilled cheese, too?” Jim asked after a moment, gesturing to Grouchy Man’s sandwich with his spoon. Grouchy Man opened his mouth to respond, but Jim continued speaking, still gesturing with his spoon as he spoke. “I mean, I’d be surprised if you didn’t. There’s so many cheeses on there. It’s to die for.”
“Right,” Grouchy Man responded, unamused. He took another bite of his sandwich, rolling his eyes. “To die for.”
“I don’t know how I’m going to survive on, like, that reconstructed food you gotta eat in Starfleet.” Jim stuck his spoon back into his parfait and proceeded to take a massive bite out of his grilled cheese. He began gesturing with the sandwich this time, waving it around as he spoke with his mouth full. “I really don’t think I’ll be able to reconstruct a grilled cheese like this one.” He closed his eyes, dramatically clenching his free hand into a fist. “Like I said… they’re to die for.”
Grouchy Man shot Jim an annoyed look, leaning back in his chair a bit and crossing his arms. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
Jim rolled his eyes and continued taking huge bites of his sandwich for a few minutes, until he’d already eaten half of it. He took care to swallow before he spoke again. “You want some of my parfait?” he asked Grouchy Man. “It’s really good. I think it’ll make you feel better.”
Grouchy Man squinted at Jim. “What makes you think I need cheering up?”
Jim snorted, stealthily sliding his parfait over to Grouchy Man’s side of the table. “You look super angry,” he said with an amused smile. “And all you had was that grilled cheese. No offense, but you look like you could use a little more meat on your bones.”
“My bones are none of your damn business,” Grouchy Man said. He glanced down at the parfait with a sigh, then looked up to meet Jim’s gaze again. “I don’t have a spoon.”
“Use mine, uh… Bones,” Jim offered, holding his spoon out to (the newly dubbed) Bones. He looked hesitant at first, but Bones nevertheless snatched Jim’s spoon and tentatively tried a little bit of the parfait. “It’s good, right?” Jim asked enthusiastically, grinning at Bones. “I wish they had different flavors.”
“I hate Greek yogurt,” Bones commented grouchily as he proceeded to take another bite anyway. “But the fruit is good, I guess.”
“Yeeesss,” Jim cheered quietly, pumping his fist and picking his sandwich back up. He ate his way through the rest of his grilled cheese, happily watching Bones take little dainty bites of the parfait. Jim continued to watch him, even after he’d finished his sandwich. Bones didn’t seem to notice -- Jim had never seen someone so invested in a parfait before.
Jim stayed quiet the next few minutes, content to just watch Bones eat the parfait. Surprisingly, Bones actually did seem less annoyed than he had earlier, which Jim counted as a win. He was really glad he could brighten someone’s day.
The moment Bones finished the parfait, Jim rose from his seat, stacking their plates and grabbing the parfait glass. “I’ll take the dishes back to the counter,” he offered, not wanting to deal with Bones possibly having realized Jim was staring. He didn’t really want to try to explain himself.
By the time he came back to the table, Bones was gone, nothing but some money and a napkin left on the table. for the parfait was scribbled in messy handwriting on the napkin, a crudely drawn arrow pointing to the money.
Jim thought he could make out the word “thanks” scribbled on there, too, crossed out at the beginning of the sentence.
The next time Jim encountered Bones was the day he moved in to his dorm at the Academy. His roommate was somebody named McCoy, and Jim was really hoping this McCoy would be someone he could get along with. Few things sucked more than having to live with someone you hate, and it would suck even more when they were both stressed out from schoolwork.
So, Jim mentally braced himself before he stepped through the door. He glanced around carefully from the threshold, and, seeing that he was the first one to arrive, he started heading toward the bedroom to put his stuff down. He hoped there was a good view of the sky from their bedroom window -- he wanted to see the stars before he fell asleep.
However, his thoughts were interrupted when he heard someone hiss “You!” rather loudly from behind him. He turned around, to see none other than…
“Bones?!” Jim squawked, his eyes widening at the sight of the man he’d met in the café. He squinted. “Wait, your name is Leonard?”
“Oh, shut it,” Bones -- Leonard -- snapped, trudging past Jim into the bedroom. “Do you care which bed I take… James?”
Jim visibly shuddered, following Leonard into the room. “Eugh, call me Jim,” he said. “And no, I don’t… Leonard.”
“Fine,” Leonard huffed, tossing one of his bags onto the bed on the right side of the room. He shuffled around for a few minutes, putting stuff here, and there; going and putting some things into the bathroom. Jim watched him awkwardly for a moment before slowly heading over the other bed, where he placed his bag down and flopped over, facedown, onto the mattress.
“Leonard,” he called after lying for a few minutes, his voice muffled by the mattress. Jim turned onto his side and squinted at Leonard, who was busy fiddling with the clock on the nightstand. “Hey, Leonard.”
“Damn it, Jim, will you just go back to calling me Bones, already?” Leonard -- Bones -- snapped, shooting Jim a glance. “Sounds much better coming out of your mouth than ‘Leonard’ does.”
“Okay,” Jim agreed lazily. The mattress was more comfortable than it should have been, considering it was a shitty dorm bed. “Umm… I forgot what I was going to ask.”
Jim could practically hear Bones rolling his eyes, and he continued lying there, on his side, until he fell asleep.
He could get used to this.
Bones woke up groggily in the middle of the night to Jim gently shaking him. He squinted, glancing over at the clock on the nightstand and letting out a groan. “Jim,” he slurred sleepily, annoyed, “it’s almost three in the fucking morning.”
“I know!” Jim declared quietly. He sounded giddy. No man should be this happy to be awake at three A.M., and Bones was dreading whatever Jim had in store for him. “I just woke up,” Jim continued. “That bed was more comfortable than it should have been. I haven’t even unpacked my stuff yet.”
“Uh-huh. Why don’t you do that, instead of,” Bones paused in the middle of his sentence, yawning impressively, “bothering the hell out of me…?”
Bones felt himself falling back asleep when Jim started talking again. He was blabbering on about something, and he sounded enthusiastic, but Bones was halfway passed out. Until he heard Jim say his name.
“Huh?”
“I said,” Jim began, “that we should go outside and look at the stars. We can get a pretty good look from behind the building.”
“Fuck,” Bones mumbled, turning away from Jim and pulling his blanket further up over his body. “‘m sleepy.”
“Please?” Jim pleaded, shaking Bones again. “I may or may not steal your blanket if you don’t come outside with me.”
“Fuck,” Bones huffed, again, slowly sitting up in his bed. “Fine. Fucking fine. But I’m bringing the blanket outside.”
“Deal.” And with that, Jim practically skipped over to the doorway, waiting awfully patiently for Bones to drag himself out of bed and shuffle out of the bedroom. Bones was definitely going to kill him tomorrow for this.
A few minutes later, and they were lying on the grass behind the dorm building, Bones wrapped up in his blanket and Jim lying on his back, his head resting on his arms. “Why are you joining Starfleet, Bones?” Jim asked after a few minutes of silence between them, nothing but some distant frogs and the sound of the wind filling the night air around them.
“I’m asking myself the same damn question,” Bones grumbled in response. He hated starships; hated planes, cars, boats, everything that swayed around. They’ve always made him sick, and scared (though he’d never admit that part). The best guess he could make was that he wanted a new life; wanted to pull himself out of his comfort zone. Live a little. He wasn’t even thirty, yet, for God’s sake, and already divorced. He didn’t really have anything better to do.
“I love the stars,” Jim said, his voice quieter than usual, but no less full of life. “My birthday was never fun. My mom never drank, except on my birthday. Half the time she wouldn’t even bother to say ‘happy birthday, Jimmy!’, she’d just drink, and drink. So I’d go outside.” Bones shifted onto his side and looked up at Jim, trying to gauge the expression on his face. He was smiling, but he looked… lonely, maybe. Sad. Fond. Melancholy. “I’d go outside, when the sun was setting, and just lie there until the sky got dark. And when the sky got dark, I’d watch the stars. I’d think about how far away they were, and how their light was still reaching me. I figured my dad was like that. I used to think he was part of the stars, now, and that their light was his light. Still reaching me even though he wasn’t here.”
“Jim,” Bones murmured, reaching out of his blanket burrito and grabbing on to Jim’s shirt gently. He couldn’t think of anything to say -- he didn’t know if there was anything he needed to say.
“I”m gonna go up there, Bones.” Jim pulled one of his arms out from behind his head and reached out toward the sky, making a long, sweeping gesture before dropping his arm back down onto his chest. “I’m gonna reach for the stars. Just like how they reached me. I’m gonna make the universe a better place, somehow.”
Bones let go of Jim’s shirt and sat up, slowly, still wrapped in his blanket. He looked down at Jim; Jim, the annoying stranger who invited himself to Bones’s table; Jim, the adorable fool who’d talked with his mouth full and brightened Bones’s day with a damn parfait; Jim, who accidentally slept all day and dragged Bones out to look at the sky; Jim, who dreamed of exploring the universe, reaching the stars. And as Bones looked down at Jim, gazing up into the sky, he was struck with a lot of admiration and love.
And so he leaned over, and he kissed Jim, slowly, and gently, and just for a moment. When he straightened, Jim’s eyes were open wide, surprised; but he was looking at Bones with the same wonder and longing that he had for the stars.
“You’re a damned idiot,” Bones said, quietly, still looking down at Jim, “but you can bet that I’ll be there with you the whole way.”
Bones woke up, a bit dazed, Jim shaking him gently. A glance over at the clock told him that it was almost three in the morning.
“Hey,” Jim murmured, pressing a kiss to Bones’s cheek. “Wanna go look at the stars?”