Carols and Kisses (Space_wrapped prompt fill)
Title: Carols and Kisses
Author: bandearg_rois
Rating: PG
Warnings: mentions of Tarsus and child abuse
Word Count: ~1756
Summary: Jim hated Christmas, had never had a good one. Bones changes that.
A/N: Thanks go out to my beta imagined_haven who kept me from doing a complete rewrite on the 30th of November. And I'm sorry the prompt got away from me a little... Happy Holidays!
Jim hated Christmas, he really did. The only memories he had were of tasteless turkey and hiding out in a cave, waiting to be found and killed, so he usually avoided the holiday and anything to do with it like the plague. Until he met Bones. Bones was a good-old Southern Boy, raised with a bible in his hand, and pretty religious for all that he was a drunkard and a divorcee. He’d managed to get out of going to Christmas Service with him for their time at the Academy by simply disappearing until a few days before New Year’s, which was holiday he was all for, what with the gratuitous amount of alcohol consumed and the caveat to kiss pretty much anyone.
But then they were on the Enterprise and he couldn’t just disappear. So he was forced to pretend like he had Christmas cheer, since he couldn’t just say he was an atheist and be done with it; he wasn’t, and Bones knew it. He had no problems going to church with Bones when he woke up in time for it at the Academy, at least as long as it wasn’t a holiday, and even on the Enterprise he attended every single service that he could; the only thing his mother had instilled in him was a genuine need to believe in something, and Paganism just didn’t appeal to him for various reasons. He was dreading that first Christmas on the ship, and the requisite services he’d have to attend, including the Christmas service with Bones.
He didn’t want to hurt Bones; the man was his best friend, and that was a big deal, since real friends were in short demand for him, even now that he was Captain, or perhaps because of it. So he decided to grin and bear it and try to be cheerful for Bones’ sake, since it was the only time of the year that Bones dropped his surly ‘I hate everything in the world with a passion’ and became a normal human being, if only for the two days surrounding the holiday.
But as it came closer and closer, his smile became more and more fixed, less and less real, and apparently, people began to notice. Uhura was first, of course, with Spock in tow; the two of them were joined at the hip, he swore. He managed to brush them off, citing stress and other things as to his behavior. When Chekov made a little comment in the mess during lunch, he told him that it was getting closer to his birthday, and the kid clammed up with a sympathetic expression, and he didn’t get anything from that angle again. Sulu didn’t bother to say anything; he didn’t celebrate Christmas, since he was Buddhist, so he didn’t have anything to say.
But finally, on Christmas Eve, Bones noticed his agitation. He was summarily dragged to the Observation Deck, which was already decked out for the festivities going on that night. He cringed at the candy canes and holly that decorated the room, and downright balked at the giant tree that someone had either replicated or smuggled (from the scent he guessed the latter) onto the ship, and he was close to court-martialing whoever it was, except that he couldn’t do that because that would be discrimination or something.
“What’s wrong, Jim?” Bones asked, once he’d found a relatively decoration-free corner and settled on a plain couch and turned his face into his knees, so he wouldn’t see the garish lights and stupid decorations that he’d never understood.
“Nothing, Bones,” he said to his knees, trying to sound nonchalant; somehow he thought he’d missed it by a mile.>
“Is it that your birthday’s coming up? Chekov said something about it when Uhura was trying to get more information on your retardedness.” Jim choked out a laugh, feeling like he was going to explode from the emotions swirling through him.
“Good word for it,” he said ruefully, trying to figure out what to say to get Bones off his back; he wasn’t coming up with anything, because Bones was always the most shrewd person he’d ever met.
“What’s goin’ on, Jim?” Bones’ voice lost its sarcasm almost immediately, and his hand came to rest on Jim’s shoulder.
“I hate Christmas,” he finally blurted, not looking up from his curled position.
“What’s wrong with it?” Bones asked, curious.
“Everything. Nothing good has ever come out of Christmas, Leonard. Only blood and death and sacrifice and pain. And bad turkey. Lots of bad turkey.”
“Oh, Jim.” Bones’ voice was heavy with compassion, and Jim hated it. He didn’t want pity from the older man; that would be worse than being forced to participate in his most-hated holiday.
“Don’t you dare,” he choked, hot tears of humiliation threatening to fall. He never cried, and here he was, about ready to bawl after 3 minutes of remembering the shithole that was his childhood memories of what was supposed to be a happy time for everyone. “Don’t you feel sorry for me, you bastard. I don’t need it, and I don’t want to hear it.”
“You think it’s pity?” He jerked his head up at the anger in Bones’ voice, and saw the rage in his friend’s eyes. “It ain’t pity, darlin’ no matter what you think. I want to strangle your ma, that’s true, but I don’t pity you none.” Jim was heartened and awed by the fact that Bones was so angry on his behalf, but kind of worried at the fact that his accent had slipped so badly; Jim could barely understand him.
“Then what the hell, Bones? I don’t like celebrating Christmas, and I don’t want to do it this year, either.”
“Then why were you making so many fuckin’ plans to go to services and eat Christmas lunch with us?”
“Because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings!” he burst out. “I care about you, and I didn’t want to screw up your first Christmas without Jo because I know how hard it is for you to be away from her, especially on this flying tin-can in space. I wanted to do something for you, Bones, because you’re my best friend and I-“ he didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to voice it because nothing he loved ever lasted, and maybe if he didn’t say it, it wouldn’t happen to Bones, too.
“Jim, me, too, honey, me, too.” And Jim was in the best Bones-hug ever, which felt amazing, simply because it wasn’t a common occurrence. “You wanna hear a bit about my Christmases?”
“You’re not gonna tell me about random family gatherings that I can’t appreciate, are you?” he asked cautiously; you never knew when Bones would be sentimental or not.
“Nah. Did you know I used to be in the Church choir growin’ up? I stopped singin’ when I got to high school, of course, mostly because of my voice changing, but partly because once you hit that age, singin’ in the church choir’s only cool to tell your gramma when you visit the nursing home.” Jim had to laugh at the image Bones was painting, since it was just too absurd to take seriously.
“Church choir, Bones? I’d have loved to be a fly on that church wall,” he said, uncurling as amusing scenarios occurred to him. “Do you still sing? I think you’ve got the voice for it.” Bones just grinned and sat up straighter, and Jim settled in for the show.
“O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight”
Jim was in awe; Bones’ honeyed voice was perfect for the old standard, turning it from a tawdry Christmas tune into something infinitely more. He was aware of his jaw dropping nearly to the floor, but he couldn’t do anything about it; he was too busy trying not to drool. Bones’ voice was amazing and he made a note to tell him at the earliest opportunity.
“Sing something else? Something… newer?” he asked, wanting to hear Bones sing something that didn’t have to do with Jesus or his birth.
“Alright, darlin’,” Bones said, giving him a strange look but launching into another song, faster and more upbeat.
“Sleigh bells ring, are you listening,
In the lane, snow is glistening
A beautiful sight,
We're happy tonight,
Walking in a winter wonderland.
Gone away is the bluebird,
Here to stay is a new bird
He sings a love song,
As we go along,
Walking in a winter wonderland.”
Jim was in awe and had to close his mouth with his fist, wiping off the excess drool. Bones was magnificent when he sang the popular song; his eyes lit up and he couldn’t stop smiling. Jim couldn’t help it: as soon as Bones trailed off with a strange look on his face, Jim launched the two feet between them and kissed him, hard.
Bones’ mouth was like silk, all smooth and tasting like bourbon and chocolate, two of his new favorite flavors. When they finally pulled apart, it was Bones’ turn to look stunned, and Jim grinned, breathing heavily. They stared at each other for a few minutes before Jim realized exactly what he had just done. He had just kissed Bones, his best friend, his one constant that he knew would never leave him. Yeah, he’d pretty much declared that he was in love with him, but that was different. Physical shit was much more damaging to a friendship that that other stuff, and he was horrified with himself.
He tried to pull away, only to be stopped by the hand Bones had placed on the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and waited for the rejection, the ‘Dammit, Jim, why’d you do that?!’ that he knew was coming.
“Dammit, Jim,” Bones started, and he braced himself for the rejection. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?!” He opened his eyes and looked into the hazel eyes in front of him, that were softened by some emotion that he had never given a name to. The next kiss was slower, more purposeful, and he found himself melting into Bones, moaning into his mouth. As they continued to kiss, a stray thought went through his head: Maybe, just maybe, this Christmas thing wasn’t so bad after all.
FIN
Author: bandearg_rois
Rating: PG
Warnings: mentions of Tarsus and child abuse
Word Count: ~1756
Summary: Jim hated Christmas, had never had a good one. Bones changes that.
A/N: Thanks go out to my beta imagined_haven who kept me from doing a complete rewrite on the 30th of November. And I'm sorry the prompt got away from me a little... Happy Holidays!
Jim hated Christmas, he really did. The only memories he had were of tasteless turkey and hiding out in a cave, waiting to be found and killed, so he usually avoided the holiday and anything to do with it like the plague. Until he met Bones. Bones was a good-old Southern Boy, raised with a bible in his hand, and pretty religious for all that he was a drunkard and a divorcee. He’d managed to get out of going to Christmas Service with him for their time at the Academy by simply disappearing until a few days before New Year’s, which was holiday he was all for, what with the gratuitous amount of alcohol consumed and the caveat to kiss pretty much anyone.
But then they were on the Enterprise and he couldn’t just disappear. So he was forced to pretend like he had Christmas cheer, since he couldn’t just say he was an atheist and be done with it; he wasn’t, and Bones knew it. He had no problems going to church with Bones when he woke up in time for it at the Academy, at least as long as it wasn’t a holiday, and even on the Enterprise he attended every single service that he could; the only thing his mother had instilled in him was a genuine need to believe in something, and Paganism just didn’t appeal to him for various reasons. He was dreading that first Christmas on the ship, and the requisite services he’d have to attend, including the Christmas service with Bones.
He didn’t want to hurt Bones; the man was his best friend, and that was a big deal, since real friends were in short demand for him, even now that he was Captain, or perhaps because of it. So he decided to grin and bear it and try to be cheerful for Bones’ sake, since it was the only time of the year that Bones dropped his surly ‘I hate everything in the world with a passion’ and became a normal human being, if only for the two days surrounding the holiday.
But as it came closer and closer, his smile became more and more fixed, less and less real, and apparently, people began to notice. Uhura was first, of course, with Spock in tow; the two of them were joined at the hip, he swore. He managed to brush them off, citing stress and other things as to his behavior. When Chekov made a little comment in the mess during lunch, he told him that it was getting closer to his birthday, and the kid clammed up with a sympathetic expression, and he didn’t get anything from that angle again. Sulu didn’t bother to say anything; he didn’t celebrate Christmas, since he was Buddhist, so he didn’t have anything to say.
But finally, on Christmas Eve, Bones noticed his agitation. He was summarily dragged to the Observation Deck, which was already decked out for the festivities going on that night. He cringed at the candy canes and holly that decorated the room, and downright balked at the giant tree that someone had either replicated or smuggled (from the scent he guessed the latter) onto the ship, and he was close to court-martialing whoever it was, except that he couldn’t do that because that would be discrimination or something.
“What’s wrong, Jim?” Bones asked, once he’d found a relatively decoration-free corner and settled on a plain couch and turned his face into his knees, so he wouldn’t see the garish lights and stupid decorations that he’d never understood.
“Nothing, Bones,” he said to his knees, trying to sound nonchalant; somehow he thought he’d missed it by a mile.>
“Is it that your birthday’s coming up? Chekov said something about it when Uhura was trying to get more information on your retardedness.” Jim choked out a laugh, feeling like he was going to explode from the emotions swirling through him.
“Good word for it,” he said ruefully, trying to figure out what to say to get Bones off his back; he wasn’t coming up with anything, because Bones was always the most shrewd person he’d ever met.
“What’s goin’ on, Jim?” Bones’ voice lost its sarcasm almost immediately, and his hand came to rest on Jim’s shoulder.
“I hate Christmas,” he finally blurted, not looking up from his curled position.
“What’s wrong with it?” Bones asked, curious.
“Everything. Nothing good has ever come out of Christmas, Leonard. Only blood and death and sacrifice and pain. And bad turkey. Lots of bad turkey.”
“Oh, Jim.” Bones’ voice was heavy with compassion, and Jim hated it. He didn’t want pity from the older man; that would be worse than being forced to participate in his most-hated holiday.
“Don’t you dare,” he choked, hot tears of humiliation threatening to fall. He never cried, and here he was, about ready to bawl after 3 minutes of remembering the shithole that was his childhood memories of what was supposed to be a happy time for everyone. “Don’t you feel sorry for me, you bastard. I don’t need it, and I don’t want to hear it.”
“You think it’s pity?” He jerked his head up at the anger in Bones’ voice, and saw the rage in his friend’s eyes. “It ain’t pity, darlin’ no matter what you think. I want to strangle your ma, that’s true, but I don’t pity you none.” Jim was heartened and awed by the fact that Bones was so angry on his behalf, but kind of worried at the fact that his accent had slipped so badly; Jim could barely understand him.
“Then what the hell, Bones? I don’t like celebrating Christmas, and I don’t want to do it this year, either.”
“Then why were you making so many fuckin’ plans to go to services and eat Christmas lunch with us?”
“Because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings!” he burst out. “I care about you, and I didn’t want to screw up your first Christmas without Jo because I know how hard it is for you to be away from her, especially on this flying tin-can in space. I wanted to do something for you, Bones, because you’re my best friend and I-“ he didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to voice it because nothing he loved ever lasted, and maybe if he didn’t say it, it wouldn’t happen to Bones, too.
“Jim, me, too, honey, me, too.” And Jim was in the best Bones-hug ever, which felt amazing, simply because it wasn’t a common occurrence. “You wanna hear a bit about my Christmases?”
“You’re not gonna tell me about random family gatherings that I can’t appreciate, are you?” he asked cautiously; you never knew when Bones would be sentimental or not.
“Nah. Did you know I used to be in the Church choir growin’ up? I stopped singin’ when I got to high school, of course, mostly because of my voice changing, but partly because once you hit that age, singin’ in the church choir’s only cool to tell your gramma when you visit the nursing home.” Jim had to laugh at the image Bones was painting, since it was just too absurd to take seriously.
“Church choir, Bones? I’d have loved to be a fly on that church wall,” he said, uncurling as amusing scenarios occurred to him. “Do you still sing? I think you’ve got the voice for it.” Bones just grinned and sat up straighter, and Jim settled in for the show.
“O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight”
Jim was in awe; Bones’ honeyed voice was perfect for the old standard, turning it from a tawdry Christmas tune into something infinitely more. He was aware of his jaw dropping nearly to the floor, but he couldn’t do anything about it; he was too busy trying not to drool. Bones’ voice was amazing and he made a note to tell him at the earliest opportunity.
“Sing something else? Something… newer?” he asked, wanting to hear Bones sing something that didn’t have to do with Jesus or his birth.
“Alright, darlin’,” Bones said, giving him a strange look but launching into another song, faster and more upbeat.
“Sleigh bells ring, are you listening,
In the lane, snow is glistening
A beautiful sight,
We're happy tonight,
Walking in a winter wonderland.
Gone away is the bluebird,
Here to stay is a new bird
He sings a love song,
As we go along,
Walking in a winter wonderland.”
Jim was in awe and had to close his mouth with his fist, wiping off the excess drool. Bones was magnificent when he sang the popular song; his eyes lit up and he couldn’t stop smiling. Jim couldn’t help it: as soon as Bones trailed off with a strange look on his face, Jim launched the two feet between them and kissed him, hard.
Bones’ mouth was like silk, all smooth and tasting like bourbon and chocolate, two of his new favorite flavors. When they finally pulled apart, it was Bones’ turn to look stunned, and Jim grinned, breathing heavily. They stared at each other for a few minutes before Jim realized exactly what he had just done. He had just kissed Bones, his best friend, his one constant that he knew would never leave him. Yeah, he’d pretty much declared that he was in love with him, but that was different. Physical shit was much more damaging to a friendship that that other stuff, and he was horrified with himself.
He tried to pull away, only to be stopped by the hand Bones had placed on the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and waited for the rejection, the ‘Dammit, Jim, why’d you do that?!’ that he knew was coming.
“Dammit, Jim,” Bones started, and he braced himself for the rejection. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?!” He opened his eyes and looked into the hazel eyes in front of him, that were softened by some emotion that he had never given a name to. The next kiss was slower, more purposeful, and he found himself melting into Bones, moaning into his mouth. As they continued to kiss, a stray thought went through his head: Maybe, just maybe, this Christmas thing wasn’t so bad after all.
FIN