Archive of Our Own

There had been something in Lieutenant Uhura’s eyes as she confirmed his question about securing their accommodations that Jim hadn’t reflected much on at the time, but certainly thought back on now, faced with the conundrum of a single bed.

It was large. Both wide and long, with plenty of pillows and a giant comforter that might just fit five grown men comfortably. So, the size was no problem, he thought. It was rather the fact that they were to spend four nights in it that had sent Bones into an irate rant which Spock had attempted to ignore by inspecting the balcony.

Bones had followed him outside, and Jim could hear his voice, filtering in through the door left ajar. Jim, for his part, remained thoughtfully watching the bed.

If Uhura had set them up to it, he had to wonder at the cause. He dismissed the idea that she knew of his feelings for his fellow officers. He had taken great care to keep them hidden, and if even Spock, his most observant friend, hadn’t noticed, then he was surely safe.

That left a number of other potential reasons, the one less believable than the other. Uhura was not the sort of officer who messed up. She had made the calls for the reservation only because of the language barrier, the proud inhabitants of the colony on Jester III more inclined to treat them well if they communicated in their own preferred language.

Uhura had learnt it in a very short time. He shuddered to think of her intellect, because it led him down the path of considering her having noticed, having read him clearly each time he interacted with Spock or Bones. No, better to assume it had been a mix-up.

“–and why am I on this godforsaken mission anyway?!” he heard Bones complain, voice raised another octave.

Spock’s reply didn’t travel as far, and Jim sighed. Bones had been irritable even before the mission, having been put through quite a few more ordeals than he’d thought were warranted in quick succession. Jim was inclined to agree. He did not much enjoy putting Bones in danger, nor did he enjoy upsetting him. Orders were orders, though, and the brass had insisted he join them to see what medical aid could be offered to the colony.

The diplomatic meetings were already giving Jim a headache, and they weren’t to begin until after lunch the next day. Before then, he had to survive a night’s sleep in the same bed as the two men he desperately wanted, yet could never have.

They had survived worse, of course, and in closer quarters. This was no emergency, though, and the colony could quite comfortably fit all three of them in separate rooms. If Uhura had set them up to this she was certainly clever. The prideful nature of these particular colonists not only made them prone to decline medical aid, it also meant they wouldn’t take kindly to being told there was something wrong with their quarters.

Bracing himself, he made his way over to the balcony, letting himself outside. Bones appeared to have paused his rant, instead stewing in a corner, arms crossed over the railing as he scowled down at the complex architecture below them.

A garden of sorts, with less vegetation and more statues and buildings. The buildings appeared to serve no purpose other than decoration, though as he joined Spock he had to admit it painted a pretty picture.

“Impressive,” he noted, hands taking a light hold of the railing.

It was made of wrought metal, bent into spiraling shapes. The buildings were rather colorful, and often bent, too, either in spirals or circles, their thin, twisting towers rising towards the sky.

“Architecture is important in their culture,” Spock replied.

He looked calm, of course, but there was a slight tightening to the corners of his eyes.

“Culture,” Bones spat. “What kind of culture forces diplomatic visitors to share a cramped hotel room? It’s barely larger than my quarters on the Enterprise!”

“It’s large enough,” Jim said, a warning note in his tone. “We’re not here to discuss their choice in logistics.”

Bones muttered something under his breath that sounded like I’ll show them logistics, and Jim would have found it amusing if he weren’t just as annoyed by it.

“I shall spend the night meditating,” Spock said, startling Jim from where he’d been staring at Bones. “The bed should provide sufficient space for two persons to sleep without difficulties.”

“Nonsense,” Jim told him. “You’ve been up two nights in a row working in the labs. I need you operating at full capacity tomorrow.”

The glance Spock gave him was indecipherable, and yet something told Jim he wasn’t happy with this logical counterargument.

“Meditation will be sufficient to keep me operating at full capacity.”

“Dear lord, why are we even arguing about this,” Bones groaned, scrubbing at his face as if he hadn’t been the one to start. “The bed’s enormous, and I don’t know about you two but I’m exhausted. I’ve been up those nights in a row working the labs too, if you forgot.”

Jim had not forgotten. While Bones had taken a few naps, ordered by Spock as Jim himself had been of little use and therefore fast asleep, it was clear the doctor still suffered from his lack of sleep.

“I suggest you get some sleep then, Bones. I’ll make it an order if I have to.”

Rolling his eyes, Bones pushed off the railing.

“No orders needed, Captain.”

He waited until Bones had disappeared back inside before turning towards Spock, lowering his voice.

“Will you be alright, Spock? I’ll try not to move too much in my sleep, but…”

“It is illogical to worry over causing me discomfort when you yourself insisted I share the bed rather than meditate as suggested.”

Ah, so Spock was unhappy with him after all.

“Well,” he said, a little awkwardly. “Just push me away if I roll too close to you.”

Spock nodded.

“Understood, Captain.”

Once the three of them had gone through their nightly routines, Jim bit the inside of his cheek and warily eyed the way Bones and Spock glared at each other. He’d been last to use the bathroom, coming out to find them stiff-necked and positioned on either side of the bed.

“Trouble?” he asked, pausing by the foot-end, so that they faced each other in a sort of triangle, bed between them.

“Merely a discussion,” Spock said.

Jim glanced at Bones, finding no clues in his drawn expression.

“Bones?” he prodded, receiving only a short huff in response. “Alright, then. I’ll take the middle, if you don’t mind.”

It seemed the safest option.

“That is acceptable,” Spock acquiesced, stepping aside to allow Jim room to climb onto the bed.

“Fine,” Bones said.

They settled in, Jim on his back with arms folded over his chest, each of his friends as far to the edges of the bed as possible. It was slightly ridiculous, to be honest, but he didn’t know how to address the tension in the suddenly quiet room.

“Lights zero percent,” he mumbled, plunging the room into darkness.

He listened to the quiet sounds of Bones’ breathing, the rustling of sheets as he turned over. He closed his eyes, forcing himself not to think about how it felt like they were lightyears apart.

That first night, he fell asleep wondering if things would ever be different.

☆☆☆

Neither of them had been in a good mood during the first day of meetings, even though the time before lunch had been spent exploring the architectural garden. Spock and Bones had found cause to bicker any moment their hosts were out of hearing range, and Jim had half a mind to knock their heads together. Dinner had been a tedious affair, the only solace being the copious amounts of alcoholic beverages that Jim had drunk very little of, but which Bones had swept three glasses of before realizing just how strong it was.

“’M fine,” Bones slurred as they helped him sit on the bed, Jim pulling his shoes off and Spock tugging at the comforter to pull it out from underneath him.

“And you’ll surely be fine in the morning,” Jim told him, too tired to properly reprimand him.

At least Bones had kept up appearances as well he could at the table, sticking to water once realizing his mistake. Whatever was in the drink had clearly gotten to his head once he stood up, though, and he nodded his head towards Bones’ med kit when Spock sent him a questioning glance.

“Don’t need you to undress me,” Bones mumbled, even though Jim hadn’t made an attempt aside from the shoes. “That won’t…”

He trailed off, frowning down at his hands for a moment. Then he snapped his head up and started to struggle out of his shirt, arms catching on the stiff fabric of the dress uniform.

“Here, Bones. Let me help you.”

Pushing his arms back down, Jim unbuttoned the front of the jacket as efficiently as he could, Bones’ warm breath washing over his face. Sitting on the bed like this, cheeks flushed from drink, Bones made for a tempting view. It didn’t help that he licked his lips, pliant as Jim maneuvered his arms out of the jacket.

At least he wore an undershirt. Jim wasn’t sure he could handle a shirtless Bones at the moment.

“I believe this will also help,” Spock said, returning with a loaded hypo from the med kit.

Bones eyed it with suspicion, then made grabby motions towards it.

“Gimmie that,” he ordered, checking the setting with squinting eyes once Spock handed it over.

Jim backed away, folding the shirt over the lone chair sat by the corner desk. For a room clearly meant for more than one person, it certainly wasn’t furnished to service more than one person doing any sort of work at a time.

He grabbed an empty glass from the desk, filled it with water from the tap in the bathroom. Even with the hypo and water, Bones was going to have a serious temper in the morning.  

“Doctor, I assure you the dosage is correct.”

“Who’s the doctor here, you or me?”

Sighing, Jim sat down next to Bones on the bed. He offered him the glass, but was dismissed in favor of the hypo making a hissing noise against Bones’ neck.

“This mission sure ain’t my favorite so far, Jim,” Bones continued after handing the hypo back to Spock.

“Only a few more days, Bones.”

He knocked his shoulder into Bones’, at least succeeding in bringing forth a small upturn to his mouth.

“Perhaps less drink and more sleep would be beneficial to your opinion on the mission,” Spock suggested, tactless as ever.

“Dammit, Spock, I was almost in a good mood again,” Bones complained, accepting the glass before continuing. “I’m not made for these diplomatic huzzahs, like you ‘n Jim. Standing around in my dress uniform all day, trying not to shout at the idiots they call doctors here… I’m not sure how many more days of this I can take.”

At least the hypo seemed to be doing its job, sobering him up quickly.

“And what makes you think I didn’t sleep!”

“Please,” Jim tried, running a tired hand through his hair when Spock opened his mouth to continue the argument. “There’s a time and place for everything, and your bickering isn’t helping my headache.”

Immediately Bones turned accusing eyes on him.

“And just when were you going to mention your headache?” he grumbled, waving at Spock in what was supposedly meant to convey the need to fetch his med kit.

“It wasn’t so bad until you two started going at it again.”

Bones rolled his eyes, rummaging around the bag once Spock had retrieved it.

“You’re not much better, Jim,” he said once he’d found what he was looking for. “Walkin’ around lookin’ like this whole place personally offended your ancestors somehow.”

“I’m not–“ He winced as the hypo made contact with his neck, then felt himself relax slightly as the pain medication worked its magic. “I’m not.”

Sharing a look with Spock that Jim didn’t like, Bones dropped the now empty hypo into the kit and placed it on the floor.

“If you say so, Jim.”

It sounded patronizing, and Jim swallowed down a surge of irritation.

“At least Spock and I take it out on each other,” Bones continued with a grimace, stretching out a kink in his neck, massaging the spot with his fingers. “You could do with some tension relief, too.”

Jim held back a snappish reply. It wouldn’t help to tell them their so-called tension relief got on his nerves. He was usually fine with it, after all, and if he brought it up now they’d know something else was wrong.

“I’m fine,” he said, keeping his tone clipped but not too annoyed.

It didn’t seem to fool either of his officers, and he supposed he hadn’t expected it to, either. Standing up he went to retrieve his sleep clothes, then shut himself inside the bathroom. Perhaps a hot shower would help.

At least the colony believed in water showers, washing some of the tension off his shoulders as he stood beneath the spray. It didn’t quite manage to make the thought of spending another night between Spock and Bones less daunting. He’d kept waking up, either by himself or by movement from one of the others. It was rare for him to share a bed for sleep with another person. His trysts were often quick, one or both parties vacating the location once satisfied.

It hardly helped that his dreams provided him with suggestions on how to improve the situation, though in reality it would have worsened things, of course. He’d woken up hard, escaping to the bathroom to cool down. Spock had already been up by then, meditating on the balcony in the pale light of the rising sun. In the morning, the shower had been enough to cool him down.

Now, it only served to heat him up further.

He muffled a groan into his hands, then scrubbed at his hair to rinse off. Well aware of the state his cock was heading into, he tried to think of the most unattractive things he’d encountered during his time in space. Inevitably, his thoughts kept returning to the two men just outside the door.

It frustrated him that he couldn’t keep a better grip on himself. Why now, why here? He had managed on the ship. Their missions were often too intense to consider such things, and this pause between crises should have been a blessing, not a curse.

Spock’s superior hearing was a high risk, and yet his hand snuck down to touch his hardening length. He bit into his lip harshly, leaned his other arm against the wall to brace himself. With quick, furious strokes he brought himself to completion in minutes, thoughts of Spock, or Bones, or both of them joining him urging him on until he fell helplessly over the edge.

Even so, the orgasm was hardly satisfying. His own hand could only do so much, after all.

He panted heavily into his bent elbow for a few long moments, then washed off the evidence. With any luck Bones would be asleep already, though of course Jim hadn’t allowed him the courtesy of brushing his teeth before occupying their one, shared bathroom.

He toweled off quickly, pulled his sleepwear on and did a perfunctory job on his teeth. Avoiding his own gaze in the mirror, he hung the towel on its designated bar and gathered up his used clothes. With a deep breath he braced himself, exiting the bathroom.

If he himself had felt tense before, it was nothing compared to the current state of the room. Bones laid in bed, back turned towards him, shoulders stiff above the covers. Spock sat on the other end, reading through the contents of a PADD. For a terrible few seconds, Jim was sure they’d heard him, and perhaps seen his thoughts, too.

“Everything alright?” he asked, frozen into place.

“Peachy,” Bones grumbled. “Actually, why don’t you tell that pointy-eared walking computer to mind his own business? Some of us have better things to do than being subjected to his damn logic day in and day out.”

Spock stiffened, hands clenching the PADD.

Whatever had transpired didn’t seem to have anything to do with Jim, and his fear was immediately replaced with concern. As irritating as their bickering had been, perhaps it was more serious than he’d previously noticed.

“Is there something I should know about?” he asked slowly, gaze flitting between them.

“Not a damn thing,” was all Bones offered.

As his chief medical officer tucked the blanket tighter around himself, Jim drummed his fingers against the bundle of clothes in his arms. He turned to Spock, expecting an explanation, but none came forth.

“I take it this won’t be a problem during our stay here, then,” he said, mustering up enough authority that he knew they’d be forced to listen.

Predictably, both Spock and Bones stiffened further, which told Jim everything he needed to know. There was something going on that required his intervention. However, they were all grown men, and some things could wait until morning.

“I recommend some sleep, gentlemen,” he said, depositing his bundle on the bag he’d brought with him from the ship. “I don’t think either of us are in a good position to work out any differences at the moment.”

There was no reply, but Spock silently set aside his PADD and made for the bathroom. It made a deep sense of worry gnaw at him, the unusual silence falling over them like a particularly restricting blanket.

He climbed into bed, found the same position he’d taken the previous night. Tilting his head to observe Bones, he considered reaching out. A simple touch on his shoulder would be reassuring, he thought. But it would mean more to him, and so he refrained.

“Try not to let him aggravate you too much, Bones,” he sighed, keeping his voice low.

“He’s doing it on purpose,” came the grumbled reply, Bones shifting to face him instead. “Everything’s fine and then he insists on–“

Abruptly, Bones caught himself. Whatever he’d been about to say must have been part of that not-thing Jim didn’t need to know about.

“It drives me up a damn wall, is all,” Bones continued, pinching his nose. “We’ll be fine, Jim. Just ignore us.”

“So, calling it tension relief…?”

“Just drop it, Jim.”

He did, but his thoughts were already working on the issue, turning past conversations and missions back and forth inside his head. When Spock rejoined them he felt as if squeezed between two electric charges.

It made for a difficult sleep.

☆☆☆

Third time’s the charm, Jim told himself as another dreary day came to an end.

He’d been held back by the colonist leaders, allowing Bones and Spock to escape while he himself was forced to pretend having interest in yet another discussion on the merits of Federation contact versus going without. Privately, he thought they wouldn’t mind so much if they hadn’t taken themselves so seriously.

He took his time walking back to their shared room, taking a winding path through the garden. It was a nice evening, allowing him to breathe easy for a moment. The moonlight from twin moons lit up the path bright enough to see, stars glittering above his head. He searched the sky for the Enterprise, but she must have been on the other side of the planet, since there was no sign of her.

Reaching the end of the footpath he slowed down. The tension had remained in the morning, the bickering between his two friends less natural compared to the previous day. It was as if something Spock had done truly rattled Bones, made him jumpy, gaze constantly straying to the Vulcan before snapping away again.

Jim needed to sit them down and talk it through with them, he knew, but it was easier said than done. The two were equally stubborn, and so far it hadn’t necessarily impacted their work performance.

The path took a sharp turn, bringing the hotel building into view between tall spires. The moonlight shone straight onto the building, bathing it in eerie, pale lighting.

On one of the balconies, he spotted them.

They stood close, as if leaning into each other. Jim took another step closer, opening his mouth to call out to them when their position registered in his brain.

There weren’t merely standing close together.

They were kissing.

Locked in a tight embrace, Spock’s arms around Bones’ back, and Bones’ hands gripping Spock’s collar like a lifeline.

Kissing, seemingly without a care in the world.

Jim felt something sink deep in his chest, breath stolen from his lungs. He stared up at them for a too long moment, heart aching in painful thuds against his ribs as he struggled to draw in air. How had he not noticed?

He swallowed, throat dry. It was better that they did not notice him, he thought, and twisted around to take a different path instead, leading him to the other side of the building. He could barely think over the pounding in his head, shock translating into a heavy headache that was bound to leave him sleepless.

He was happy for them. Right? He could be happy for them. They would be good together, once they got over their differences. He’d always suspected they were closer than they pretended to be, the way you can’t help but grow together after saving each other’s lives one too many times.

But how hadn’t he noticed?

Perhaps he’d been too caught up in his own head, thinking only of his own emotions for them, dismissing any idea they returned his feelings and overlooking the fact that perhaps a good reason for them showing no interest in him was this.

If they had each other, there was no need for him to interfere.

He paused in the hotel’s lobby, glad to find the night staff was nowhere to be seen. There was a plush couch-like thing to one side, and he sank into it gratefully, leaning his head in his hands. He needed to get a grip on himself before he went up to see them.

It was going to hurt, but he knew how to deal with pain. More than heartbreak, he felt upset they had chosen not to tell him. They should be able to trust him. He was their captain, more importantly, and they had no choice but to tell him in an official capacity as soon as it turned serious.

Perhaps they were only in the beginning stages of their relationship. It would make sense, he supposed, the tension between them.

He could swallow his own heart, if it meant the two of them were happy.

It was proving difficult, though, as he forced himself to get up on his feet again after enough minutes spent wallowing in self-pity. The ride up in the elevator felt like he’d left his soul on the ground floor, the idea that he was in any way put together enough to face them starting to sound ridiculous. Forcing himself to draw in slow, deep breaths, he wondered if he’d given them enough time to work things through. He didn’t want to interrupt them, wasn’t sure what sight he’d be met with once the door opened.

Debating with himself, he stood frozen for a long moment outside the room. Part of him wanted to go back downstairs again, stay on that couch with his face buried in his hands, tell himself he’d seen nothing. Part of him wanted to get lost in the garden, disappear somewhere between alien towers.

The captain in him forced him to move on, move ahead. Putting it off would provide no changes, no solutions.

It was only the long day and lack of proper sleep that had him reacting so strongly, he reassured himself. He could handle his two friends being in love with each other.

Oh, god.

They loved each other.

His throat constricted, fresh waves of pain blooming inside his chest. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t go in there and pretend everything was fine, that he hadn’t seen, that he didn’t know.

That he didn’t wish, desperately, for them to want him, not just each other.

Before his brain had fully caught up, he’d opened the door and stepped inside.

It was quiet, the balcony door open, the curtain falling in front of it billowing in the faint breeze. They must still be out there. Heartbeat pounding in his ears he moved through the room as if in a dream, detached from himself.

The moonlight washed into the room as well, the lights turned off. He took a hold of the flowing curtain, pulled it further aside. Outside, only a few steps away, Spock stood with Bones tucked against his chest, head resting in the crook of his neck.

They looked peaceful, Bones facing out towards the garden. Only Spock had heard him, dark eyes trained on him, expression half-hidden in shadow. It was strange to see him like this, one hand pressed to the small of Bones’ back in a protective gesture.

Staring at each other, Jim wondered what, exactly, Spock might read on his face. He felt unmoored, fluttering in the wind just like the curtain he still gripped tight in one hand.

The silence felt brittle, a thin sheet of ice separating him from reality. He should step back, leave them alone, but something in Spock’s eyes held him frozen in place.

“Captain,” Spock murmured, startling Bones.

He whipped his head around, eyes wide as he found Jim. He looked caught red-handed, guilt warring with embarrassment.

“Jim,” he said, sounding nervous as he licked his lips. “I didn’t hear you there.”

He still held onto Spock, still stood pressed against him, chest to chest. Jim wanted that.

“Is this what your discussion was about, then?” he asked, hardly recognizing his own voice.

He sounded cold, defensive. Protecting his fragile heart, even though it was already too late.

Bones flinched, fingers tightening at Spock’s side. He didn’t step back, merely lifted his chin in defiance. Before he could say anything, though, Spock lifted a hand to Bones’ cheek, the light touch turning whatever words he meant to say into a silent exhale instead.

“It was,” Spock confirmed.

It was Jim’s turn to flinch, not from the words but from the easy way Spock touched him. He drew in a sharp breath, opened his mouth, closed it again. It would be too easy to snap back, turn this into an argument. They were better than that.

“You could have told me,” he said.

Watching him, Bones worked his jaw. Jim averted his eyes, turning towards the nearest moon instead, hanging low in the sky. It was a beautiful night, he thought. Romantic. The sort of wooing that Bones deserved. The kind he might have considered, now and then, when he allowed himself to indulge in fantasy.

“I’m going to bed.”

Turning on his heel he headed back inside, numbly changing into sleepwear and shutting himself inside the bathroom. He told himself his heart wasn’t breaking, but it was a lie. He knew how to lie, though.

Splashing cold water onto his face, he wondered if it would truly hurt the discussions so much to request a room of his own. He felt vaguely ill, stared at himself in the mirror and found his heart in pieces all over his skin. The thought of going back inside the room, of asking if he should be the one sleeping on one side of the bed instead, made his heart feel too heavy of a burden.

He had no choice, though, and pushed the door open with teeth biting into a cheek. Inside, Spock stood waiting for him, hands clasped behind his back. The lights were on by now, slightly dimmed.

“Jim,” Spock said, sounding too earnest for Jim to dismiss him.

He stood, waiting for Spock to continue.

“You should speak with him.”

He raised his eyebrows, unable to help the bitter huff escaping his lips.

“For what reason, Spock? I’m happy for you two, I really am. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me for another two nights, but–“

“Jim.”

Something in Spock’s expression, too knowing, made Jim shatter all over again. Helpless, he allowed his shoulders to slump, palms sweaty with nerves.

“Why?” he asked, still, unsure why Spock seemed so insistent when he himself had silenced Bones earlier.

Rather than reply, Spock tilted his head, watching him curiously. He did not appear upset, nor particularly worried. Frustration simmered under Jim’s skin, but he pushed it aside. Spock’s Vulcan nature didn’t always translate well in emotional discussions.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He owed Bones better than a turned back, of course he did. His heart might not be able to take it, was the problem. If it was difficult seeing them together, hearing the confirmation out loud that they were leaving him out would surely break him.

Bracing himself, he strode out onto the balcony again. Bones was standing in the right-hand corner again, elbows against the railing and face lifted towards the sky. He was frowning, lined face taut with tension.

He didn’t acknowledge Jim, and Jim didn’t know how to speak.

Instead he walked closer, came to stand next to him. Shoulder to shoulder, he mourned how things would never be the same. Maybe time would heal the wound, would ease the bitter pain he felt on his tongue. He’d thought he could handle the wanting and never having, thought he was fine as long as he had them by his side.

“I’m happy for you,” he said, the words sounding no less hollow now than when he’d said them to Spock.

Bones tensed, then relaxed again. When he turned towards Jim there was something odd in his expression.

“You don’t sound it, Jim.”

Uncomfortable, he shrugged lightly.

“I swear it won’t affect our work–“

“Wasn’t expecting it to.”

He crossed his arms, goosebumps trailing up his bare arms that had nothing to do with the temperate weather. He felt too exposed in just a t-shirt, as if not just his arms, but also his heart had been laid bare.

“You’re the best damn CMO in the ‘Fleet, Bones, I doubt anything could change that.”

“Well.” Bones’ mouth pulled up at the corner, a shadow of a smile. “Thanks, I suppose.”

Silence fell again, restricting and suffocating. He hated it. Part of him wanted to blurt it out, beg Bones to consider it. But it would be unfair, wouldn’t it? Pressuring him like that. He didn’t want either of his friends to feel like their careers were in danger, and certainly not their friendship.

The latter would take some time, but Jim would give it that time.

“Jim, what are we doing?” Bones sighed, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand. “It’s like I forgot how to talk to you.”

Heart picking up speed again, Jim considered fleeing. He’d tell Bones things were fine, nothing to discuss. It wouldn’t be true, but the truth ached behind his teeth and stabbed at his lungs.

“Makes two of us,” he muttered, leaning hard against the railing, felt it dig into his lower arms. “Spock most likely won’t let either of us go back inside until we’ve had some sort of discussion, though.”

Bones gave him a startled look, then shook his head in bewilderment.

“That Vulcan, I swear… If he thinks there’s such a logical solution to this, I’d like to see him come out here and explain it in so many words.”

“A solution requires a problem, Bones. You two are together, what else is there to solve?”

Clamping his mouth shut, Bones stiffened again. He hunched into himself, shoulders tilting up towards his jaw, knuckles paling against the dark metal he held onto.

“I told him not to push it,” he murmured.

It was low enough that Jim barely heard him, had the night not been so quiet and still. He stared at his friend’s profile, the angles of his face, the soft curls of hair. He’d changed into a long-sleeved shirt, dark blue, though the color appeared black in the moonlight. There were stress lines on his face that hadn’t been there at the start of their five-year mission, bags underneath his eyes more pronounced than usual.

Jim was seized by the sudden urge to reach out and touch his face, trace his eyebrow, cheekbone, the curve of his lip. He swallowed against the lump in his throat, twisted his head away to stare unseeingly over alien architecture.

It was rare for them to miscommunicate. He knew Bones outside in, knew Bones could usually read him like an open book. This was unknown territory, an area unexplored, as alien to him as the twin moons above them.

“I don’t understand, Bones,” he said, softly. “You and Spock… That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

The huff of air that Bones blew out of his nose sounded half amused, half frustrated. Regardless of his own feelings on the matter, he didn’t want to see either of them suffer. If there was anything he could do to make things easier for them, then he would, no matter the cost to his own heart.

“There’s nothing wrong with Spock,” Bones answered quietly, swiping his hand over his mouth again.

It reminded Jim of the kiss he’d seen, the calm perfection of the moment. His heart sank even lower, impossibly enough.

“Then what’s the problem? You want my blessing? Well, you have it!”

Bones was quiet for long enough that Jim was forced to turn to him, to drink in the complicated look on his face, one eyebrow raised to his hairline.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Bones hummed, surprise coloring his voice. He tilted his head a little, in a near-mimic of Spock’s favorite move when he found Humans behaving illogically again. “Not that I thought you’d admit it, but…”

When Jim merely scowled at him he continued, still with that look on his face.

“I know how you feel about him, Jim.”

He blinked, mind reeling for a second.

“What?”

“Spock,” Bones clarified. “I know how you feel about Spock. I’m not trying to get between the two of you, it just… Damn it, Jim, it just happened!”

Bones pushed off the railing, turning fully towards him. His hands flew out to his sides in a helpless gesture.

“We were arguing, running on too little sleep and not enough caffeine, and it just–“

He cut off, hands dropping again. He licked his lips in a nervous gesture, Jim following the movement, unable to help himself.

“I see,” he said, though he wasn’t sure that he did.

It sounded like one of his fantasies. More likely to happen with Bones, since Spock often had full control of himself. He could imagine Bones grabbing Spock mid-argument, shutting him up with his mouth. It heated him up to the core, both with arousal and jealousy. God, he wished it had been him Bones kissed like that.

“Jim,” Bones pleaded, clenching his hands into fists, blue eyes wide. “I told him not to pursue it, that it wasn’t right, but I…”

“You want him.”

Bones made a choked noise, nodding. He looked like he was beating himself up over it, like he expected Jim to be mad at him. And maybe he was, he thought, but not for the reason Bones believed.

Not entirely, at least.

“I don’t think I can stop wanting him,” Bones whispered, sounding hoarse. “He’s taking over my mind completely, Jim. Things changed, and we can’t…”

Mustering up a smile, Jim finally reached out, taking a hold of Bones’ arm. He felt warm underneath thin fabric, and Jim wanted to slide his hand up, higher, over his shoulder and up his neck, cup his cheek and pull him in.

“You deserve someone who loves you,” he forced himself to say, mouth dry and tongue like lead in his mouth. “Clearly he’s willing to give you that.”

“But Jim…”

Their eyes caught, Bones’ face relaxing into something much more open. He looked sad, almost, and Jim found himself holding back the burn of tears.

“What, Bones? What?”                         

“I think he loves you, too…”

It was as if the world stopped, held its breath with him. He couldn’t have heard that right. Bones lifted a hand to grip Jim’s where it rested on his arm, fingers slotting together easily.

“You should be with him,” Bones said, brittle smile shining on his face, like he was truly prepared to give up someone he loved for Jim. “You two were practically made for each other, anyone can see it. I know when it’s time to step down, Jim.”

“Step down?” he echoed, mind still drawing up a blank.

Bones sucked in a breath, slowly moving Jim’s hand from his arm. Jim didn’t let him go, however, making him frown at their joined hands.

“Jim, it doesn’t have to be complicated. I didn’t want you to know, that’s all. I just needed some time to accept he wasn’t mine to begin with.”

“Well, now I am mad,” Jim said, tugging Bones closer. “You really think I’d ask that of you?”

“Of course not!” Huffing in frustration, Bones pushed at Jim’s chest with his free hand. “Why do you think I didn’t want you to know?”

Jim caught the hand, held it to his body. He couldn’t leave things like this. Bones was too important to him to make him truly think Jim would be satisfied if he was left alone, unhappy.

“And what about you?” he asked roughly, tightening his hold on him. “Spock obviously wants a relationship with you, so what’s his solution, then? Somehow I doubt it’s the same as yours.”

Turning his head to the side, stubbornly, Bones thinned his lips. Jim was close enough to feel the light tremor in his body, the shaky breaths drawn in through his nose. How had catching the two of them lip-locked ended up like this, Bones on the verge of tears in his arms?

“You haven’t even asked me how I feel about all this,” Jim went on, chest burning with emotion.

When Bones remained turned away, Jim stopped thinking. He cupped Bones’ jaw, forcing their eyes to meet. A second later his lips were on Bones’, a kiss more furious than loving.

He held him still until Bones relaxed, releasing a shuddering breath against Jim’s insistent mouth. His heart was slamming so hard against his ribs he thought they might break, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind if they did. All he could think about was Bones going pliant in his arms, softening against him.

His head spun, fingers sliding from Bones’ jaw into his hair, tilting his head more gently this time. He moved his lips, tentative, wondering if kissing his CMO like this was going to end up on his long list of regrets. He hoped not.

A hesitant hand came to rest between his shoulder blades, Bones parting his lips in a shy invitation that almost had Jim sagging with relief. He pounced on it, licking along the seam of his mouth hungrily, placing Bones’ hand on his hip before throwing his arm around Bones’ shoulders to bring them together.

The soft noise that Bones released went straight to his cock, anticipation coursing through his veins as blood rushed through his body. He wanted to show him just how idiotic Bones’ idea was, to think Jim wanted him to step out of the way so he could have whatever he wanted, as if Bones wasn’t what he wanted.

“You think I don’t want you to be happy?” he mumbled between open-mouthed kisses, scraping his nails lightly over Bones’s scalp until he released another soft sound. “You think I don’t want you just as much as I want Spock?”

Another moan, louder this time, Bones melting into his arms. He kissed him, and kissed him some more, plunged his tongue into Bones’ mouth until they were both breathless and shivering. He couldn’t believe this man. Hadn’t they sacrificed enough for each other already? It was one thing not to feel – no one can change romantic attraction at will. Jim would have hurt, but ultimately accepted it.

But this? The clear want in the way Bones clung to him, the way his mouth drove Jim half out of his mind?

“You should have told me, Bones,” he panted into his neck, dragging teeth over his pulse point.

“Jim, oh sweet Jesus, how the hell was I supposed to just tell you?”

Jim pulled back, just enough to see his flushed face. He looked gorgeous like this, and Jim couldn’t help but lean in and press their lips together again in a quick kiss.

“Maybe ask a man how he feels about it before deciding to give him your boyfriend.”

“Spock’s not my boyfriend,” Bones squeaked, indignant.

“Perhaps had you been willing to discuss matters, Doctor, we could have agreed on a more suitable term."

They both whipped around to see Spock in the doorway, eyebrow calmly raised as if discussing the weather. Jim wondered how long he’d stood there, then found himself hoping it had been long enough to watch them kiss.

“Spock,” he said, unsure of how to continue.

“I am gratified that you have resolved the issue.”

“Have we?” Bones mumbled, attempting to step out of Jim’s hold.

Jim wouldn’t let him, though, kept him firmly against his own body with an arm around his waist.

“You could have told me,” he said, frowning. “What good did it do you to let him think I’d–“

“Jim, don’t be mad at him,” Bones sighed. “I made him promise not to tell you.”

“Oh, did you now?”

Another sigh, heavier this time.

“Oh, fine, it’s all my fault. Happy now?”

Jim considered him, took in the shape of his pout and the irritation marked in the furrow of his brows. All at once it struck him that he was getting exactly what he wanted. That they wanted him, too, that Bones had been just as convinced as him that his feelings weren’t returned.

“Just to be absolutely clear,” he said, glancing between the other two. “We all have feelings for each other, is that right?”

“Indeed.”

“Ugh. Yes.”

He felt himself smile at the reluctant agreement from Bones, contrary to the eager way he’d kissed him just seconds earlier. He could understand it, though. This wasn’t easy for either of them, although Spock seemed to be the least affected. Perhaps Vulcan logic had already given him the answer long ago.

“I see,” he said, feeling light.

“What now?” Bones griped, crossing his arms as well he could. “We still have to finish the mission.”

Humming, Jim lowered his hand to give Bones’ ass a hearty squeeze, making him jump and glare at him accusingly.

“Of course that’s the first thing you think of!”

“Come on, Bones. I think this calls for a bit of a celebration.”

“Does it, now?” He swatted at Jim’s hand when it reached out again, Jim’s grin widening in turn. “You’ve no sense of tact.”

“I’ll woo you properly once we’re back on the ship,” Jim promised, glancing at Spock. “Both of you.”

Spock closed the distance between them, standing close enough that Jim could easily place a hand on his wrist, holding it loosely. The warmth in Spock’s brown eyes had his heart flutter, finding new life now that the expected pain had been swept away.

“No wooing necessary, Captain. I am quite content with a confirmation that you wish to enter into a relationship with me and the doctor.”

“I do.” Jim looked between them, gaze soft. “I very much do.”

There was another blush spreading across the bridge of Bones’ nose, and Jim leaned in to peck the corner of his mouth. His heart ached for a better reason now, a sweet sensation that only intensified when he stared up at Spock in silent question and found him already leaning in.

He closed his eyes, heart skipping a beat as Spock’s lips closed over his own. It started slow, almost sweet, lips touching gently. The sensation was heightened by Bones leaning into his side, watching them.

When he felt Bones lips brush over the sensitive spot underneath his ear he couldn’t help but moan, squeezing his fingers over Bones’ hip. It was almost too much, having the both of them surrounding him, body heat warming him until he was sure he’d overheat if they kept it up. He slowly leaned back, lifting a hand to sweep some of Spock’s neat bangs to the side.

“You sure you don’t want to take some time exploring this right away?” he asked Bones, keeping his tone soft to make sure he knew there was no expectation behind the question.

He was met with narrowed eyes, teeth digging into Bones’ lower lip for a brief moment.

“Shouldn’t we talk about this a little more first?”

When Jim grimaced, Bones huffed at him and poked him in the cheek.

“I know what you’re like, Jim, running along headfirst into things. Some of us aren’t as quick to act, you know.”

“While you are somewhat correct, Doctor, such a conversation might benefit from our return to the ship.”

“Somewhat correct?” Bones asked, outraged. “Suddenly Vulcan logic is all about jumping into bed, huh? Is that it?”

Jim held up a hand between them, amused that even now they so easily riled each other up.

“A compromise?” he suggested, waiting until Bones let go of some of his ire. “Something quick to take the edge off, and then a thorough conversation once we’re back on the Enterprise.”

When Bones remained unconvinced, he leaned in to whisper in his ear, sure that Spock’s superior hearing would have no trouble picking it up.

“It’s a rare occasion to have a bed as large as this, isn’t it? I’d like to see you spread out on it, enjoying yourself.”

“Don’t think your usual tricks work on me,” Bones muttered, but his cheeks were dusted pink and he didn’t mind when Jim dipped the tips of his fingers below his waistband.

“A logical compromise,” Spock praised him with a completely straight face, the glint in his eyes gone as soon as it appeared.

“Of course it is,” Jim said, nudging both of them towards the doorway. “Our hosts were kind enough to provide us with the perfect accommodations, it would be an insult not to use them as intended.”

Bones coughed delicately, slipping out of Jim’s hold to close the balcony door firmly behind them, pulling the curtain in place. He breathed in deeply, then turned towards them with a determined look on his face. Jim smiled at the sight.

“Keep it to hand jobs, Jim,” he said, leaving no room for discussion. “I don’t have the patience to deal with anything more complex than that tonight.”

Well, that suited Jim just fine. His cock stirred with interest at the thought, and for a moment he hesitated over where – or with whom – to start.

“If you do not mind, I would prefer to observe initially,” Spock said, making the choice for him.

“Alright,” he said. “Bones?”

He waited, but it wasn’t long until Bones walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Searching Jim’s face apparently gave him the answer he needed, because he rolled his eyes and put both hands on his neck to pull him in.

Jim hummed into the kiss, hands sneaking under Bones’ shirt to touch bare skin. He was rather thin compared to himself and Spock, arching his back when Jim dragged his hands up along his spine.

He licked into Bones’ mouth, familiarizing himself with the taste of him. He wanted Bones to relax fully, wanted him at ease. He wanted touching each other to be as easy as breathing, the trust they felt in their friendship to translate into this, too.

Nudging his nose along the line of Bones’ jaw he moved his hands lower again, slid them over the fabric of his sleep pants to cup his ass. It made Bones let out another muffled squeak into his mouth, hands fisting in Jim’s shirt in protest.

“Damn it, Jim, I’m too old to have my ass pinched,” he grumbled, scowling when Jim only chuckled in amusement.

“Don’t say that, Bones. I quite enjoy pinching it.”

Huffing, Bones stepped back to put some distance between them before pulling off his shirt, revealing a handsome chest covered in dark hair. Jim drank in the sight, mapping out the shape of him, the way his hipbones peeked out above his pants.

“Get your clothes off, Jim. If you’re so eager to get your hands on me I suggest you stop starin’ and get to work.”

“Whatever you say, Bones.”

He made quick work of his clothes, noting the heavy-lidded gaze Spock scrutinized his naked body with. Even Bones couldn’t help but eye him, even as he pushed his own pants down. Jim felt a tad ridiculous standing in the middle of the room in his birthday suit, Bones in a similar state, while Spock watched all prim and proper in his dress uniform. It was the kind of ridiculous that lifted his spirits, though, made him sure that this was real.

"Come here, Bones,” he said, holding a hand out.

This time when they kissed, Jim felt heat spread like flames through his limbs, skin on skin making his toes curl in anticipation. He touched Bones wherever he could reach, his back, hips, arms, counted the ribs in his side and caressed the soft curve of his ass. Bones treated him to the same exploring touch, palms spread over his chest before gripping his hips to pull them flush against each other.

They were both hard, and Jim walked them over to the bed. They had to separate to get onto the middle of it, Jim throwing an urgent look over his shoulder towards Spock.

“I’d say you’re a little overdressed, Mister Spock,” he teased, pushing Bones down on his back with a hand on his stomach. “Why don’t you join us at least?”

Spock acquiesced with a slight nod, unbuttoning his shirt and neatly hanging it over the lone chair in the room. Clad in only his undershirt he looked delectable, both he and Bones staring heavily as Spock gracefully climbed onto the bed. He sat cross-legged, hands over his knees, expression expectant.

"You're going to watch like that?" Bones spluttered, red creeping down his chest.

“Yes,” Spock said, simply.

Oh, Jim had so many ideas for things they could try. He felt high on the rush of endorphins, on the sight of Bones, naked, Spock clearly enjoying the view. It was hard to believe that a few short minutes ago he’d been plunged into despair, certain of a fate filled with heartache.

Like this, running his hand through the hairs on Bones’ chest, he felt electric.

“Here, Bones,” he soothed, throwing a leg over Bones’ thighs. “I think a distraction is in order.”

He leaned over him, bracing himself on his elbows. Their cocks came into contact, both of them groaning at the dry friction. Jim was quickly growing wet at the tip, but it would hardly be enough yet. He lowered his head to suck on Bones’ lower lip, biting into it gently when he felt hands slowly comb through his hair.

“It’s not that I’m complaining,” Bones muttered when Jim kissed his cheek, his temple. “It’s just a little unnerving when he looks so unaffected.”

Jim pressed a lingering kiss to the edge of his jaw, then pushed up a little higher to look at Spock.

“Are you?” he asked, biting his cheek against a wide grin. “Unaffected, I mean.”

“I assure you, Doctor, the view is pleasing to me.”

“He even sounds like normal,” Bones groaned, rolling his eyes. “Next time we’re going to make you squirm, you hear that?”

“There is nothing wrong with my ears, despite your affinity for pointing out their shape.”

Jim pushed his mouth into Bones’ neck, hiding the grin he could no longer contain.

“I think he’s flirting with us,” he faux whispered into Bones’ skin, tickling him with his breath.

“Hell of a thing to call flirting.”

Rolling his hips, Jim relished in the way the last word turned into an outdrawn moan, Bones throwing his head back, baring his throat.

“Next time,” Jim groaned, shifting his weight so he could push a hand between their bodies and press a thumb to one of Bones’ nipples, “I think we should bring lube.”

He spit in his hand as substitute, shifted his weight again to close his hand around both their cocks. He’d make it quick like Bones wanted, like he’d done to himself in the shower the previous night. They could take their time another day, learn each other’s bodies, tease and explore to their heart’s content. He thought of shore leaves spent in each other’s company, thought of quiet evenings in the rec room leading into heated nights in his quarters.

Bones let out a beautiful moan, the hand nearest Spock blindly groping around for him until Spock took it. It was more arousing than Jim had expected, seeing their hands intertwined as he used slow strokes to bring them off. He panted into Bones’ shoulder, gasping as he dragged his palm over both their swollen heads, pushing down into Bones’ stomach. Flattening his palm he moved his hips instead in short little thrusts that had his breath stutter, sweat-slick skin mixed with precome aiding the movement.

“Jim, please, I’m so close,” Bones begged, heels digging into the mattress as Jim moved against him.

Nails dug into Jim’s neck, the pain adding another layer of pleasure as he steadily worked them, balls hot and heavy between their bodies. He wanted to take Bones into his mouth, wanted to fuck him hard and needily until he cried out, but Bones had wanted a hand job and by the stars Jim would give him one.  

“That’s it, Bones,” he murmured, sucking a bruising kiss onto his throat.

He curled his hand around them again, twisted his wrist on the descent and smeared precome over his fingers on the way up. He could feel his orgasm building within him, a swirl of arousal and pleasure pooling in his gut.

“Jim,” Spock called his attention, deep voice even deeper than usual. “I would like to see you ejaculate.”

Through the haze in his mind it took Jim a moment to realize what he meant, but once it clicked he pushed himself up with a shaky arm, straddling Bones’ thighs instead. The new angle gave him a fantastic view, he thought, Bones’ chest flushed and heaving with exertion, eyes scrunched up in intense pleasure.

He squeezed Bones’ hip with one hand, holding his balance, and renewed his efforts with the other.

“Like this?” he remembered to ask Spock, glancing at his first officer who seemed absorbed in studying the place where their bodies met.

 Their hands were still laced together, Bones’ fingers gripping Spock tight as he struggled to move into Jim’s touch. Jim searched his face as he experimented with different strokes, alternating between tight and loose, playing with Bones’ wet tip and dipping his hand down to roll his balls gently over his fingers, all of it resulting in Bones gasping for breath between lewd moans that Jim knew he could never forget the sound of.

“Oh, yes, gonna–“

Arching his back with a sharp gasp, Bones came over Jim’s hand and his own stomach. The vision was enough to push Jim right along with him, his body tensing up as a few strokes later he covered Bones in several more stripes of come.

His lungs worked hard to draw in air, legs trembling with the force of his orgasm. It had been a while since he’d felt so undone.

Slowly he lifted his clean hand, wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his forearm. His whole body felt oversensitive, overheated. He looked at the mess they’d made of each other, swiped a thumb through the worst of it, not missing the way Bones shuddered underneath him.

“Alright, Bones?” he asked, expecting an eyeroll, or perhaps a grunted assent.

Instead Bones smiled, a slow sunrise-like widening of lips that had Jim’s chest flutter for entirely non-sexual reasons.

“Been worse,” Bones teased, blue eyes lazily blinking open to gaze up at him. “I guess your compromise had its perks.”

Jim grinned back, then turned to Spock.

“And what did you think, Spock?”

“Quite satisfactory.”

It made Bones snort, but his eyes remained soft as he pushed at Jim to move. Jim slid off him easily, helped him sit up, eyes trailing the evidence dribbling down his stomach. The polite thing to do would be to get him something to clean up with, but part of him wanted to sit and look at him for a while longer.

“Been a while since I made such a mess…” Bones trailed off, noticing Jim’s smug expression. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and get me a towel?”

“You got plenty of use out of me just now,” Jim protested mildly, leaning in for a quick kiss before figuring he’d best do as told.

He patted himself down quickly in the bathroom, then ran a hand towel under the tap. When he returned, it was to find Bones and Spock lip-locked again, though this time the emotion it spurred inside him was welcome.

He stood for a moment, simply drinking in the sight, chest fuzzy and warm. Spock had moved closer, supporting Bones with an arm behind his back, free hand stroking the length of his neck as their mouths came together in gentle brushes of lips. Jim swallowed down a fresh wave of arousal, mesmerized when Spock’s fingers trailed lower, a slow caress over Bones’ chest before reaching his stomach.

The hand didn’t stop there, like Jim had been sure it would. Instead, curious fingers slipped on the wetness gathered there, causing Bones to shiver and moan into his mouth. He felt a newfound understanding of Spock’s decision to watch – it was almost as good as participating himself.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, when Bones glanced at him and started leaning back. “Quite satisfactory, as Spock said.”

Bones narrowed his eyes and reached a hand out for the towel. Jim considered staying back a little longer, just to see what Spock might do, but the impatient look on Bones’ face won him over. He allowed Bones to snatch the towel from him, listened to him grumbling under his breath with pinkened cheeks. Jim felt so lighthearted he thought he might burst, pressing a kiss to Bones’ kneecap and laughing at the startled reaction it received.

“You’re a menace, Jim,” Bones complained with a huff, the effect ruined by the way his mouth wouldn’t stop threatening to break into another smile. “And you, you’re no better!”

The last part was directed at Spock, whose smile-not-smile filled the room with warmth.

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with us, Bones.”

The now-dirty towel was shoved into his chest, Bones giving up the fight against the smile and shaking his head at him.

“Agreed, Jim,” Spock said, holding out a hand, two fingers shaping the same gesture Jim had seen his parents complete while visiting the ship.

Curious, he watched Bones meet them with his own fingers. A moment later Spock held his hand out for Jim instead, and with a slight hitch to his breath he felt something buzz underneath the skin of his fingertips as he lightly touched them to Spock’s.

“A Vulcan kiss?” he asked, shifting into a more comfortable position, dropping the towel on the floor despite the way Bones wrinkled his nose at him.

“Approximately.”

“You’ll have to teach me more about that.”

“Us,” Bones corrected, then buried his face in his hands and groaned. “That’s it, I’m going to bed.”

Jim patted his leg, then slid his hand down along Bones’ thigh, just to feel him twitch. He was too wired to sleep, but he recognized the limits on how far Bones could be pushed. Still, the hand was accepted, rather than swatted away, and Jim almost knocked him down on his back again to kiss him.

“You want to be in the middle, Bones?”

He shared a look with Spock, could tell that he seconded the question. It didn’t make him feel any less appreciated, and he had to spend a moment relishing in how at ease he felt, how secure in the dynamics between them.

Bones grumbled something unintelligible behind his hands, then let them drop.

“I’m glad we’re not on the ship,” he said. “I think I’ll need a couple of days getting used to this.”

“All the time in the world, Bones,” Jim smiled, then amended, “well, a day and half.”

Rolling his eyes, Bones disappeared into the bathroom. Jim turned to Spock, considered him for a long moment.

“Why were you so reluctant to share the bed?” he asked, frowning as he remembered their first night. “If you and Bones were already…”

“We had not yet reached an agreement, though I took the opportunity to discuss things tonight while you were held back after dinner,” Spock said. “And I admit the thought of sharing seemed difficult due to his insistence that we continue not to speak of it.”

Jim hummed, resting an elbow on his bent knee, chin in hand.

“I’m glad you kept pushing him, then. Even if my heart stopped for a bit when I caught you.”

“My apologies, Captain. It was not my intention to cause you distress.”

Reaching out to place his hand over Spock’s wrist, Jim smiled at him reassuringly.

“It all ended well, so no need to apologize.”

They sat in relaxed silence for a bit, content to wait for Bones to return. Jim circled a finger over the knob on Spock’s wrist, breathing in the calm of the moment. It was most likely a good idea to talk later, once their emotions had time to settle a bit.

Bones returned, and they all settled in, Jim immediately latching himself onto Bones’ backside under the covers. He pressed a kiss to Bones’ neck, met Spock’s fingers where they rested over Bones’ hip.

He may just have to find a way to discreetly thank Uhura once they returned to the ship.