wherefore art thou cantankerous bastard »

• Jim wants to take the excess and house it in the spaces between his ribs.
• he could have listened to the voice in his head telling him no fucking further instead of adding to the pile of things Bones does for him.
• “Whatever you want,” Jim says, almost a murmur. “Do it.”
• the certain knowledge that he'd let Bones take him apart, too. Without thinking, he'd let him.

where i lay my hat »

• Until he's fucking freefalling into a pool of crystallized rage protecting something fragile and precious in Jim's lungs.
• like Bones is afraid if he stops touching Jim he's going to disappear.
• Jim invites them to supper, aware of exactly how much his hand he's revealing

star to every wandering bark »

• For the briefest of moments, Jim was his father's everything.
• The hurt pulls him back to earth and he's thankful for it.
• it's okay because he has warmth and arms holding him up and a real honest to God chance and right now it just feels like it's incarnate in this man his friend his best friend his Oh God Bones please.
• "But it's yours." / He plucks a tomato from her plate and tries to ignore the way his thoughts stutter over those words.
• Jim's so used to being left behind.
• He presses words into Jim, "I'm sorry I didn't..." see, know, figure it out, this thing that I should've picked up years ago because it's my job to know you, kid.

wasted on the young »

• "You are adorable." "Jesus fucking Christ."
• Thanks for letting me know how things have been going, by the way."
• Should your Dad still be alive? Should mine still be alive? I bet you wish you could go back — really go back, you know, with everything you know now, so you could stay the fuck away from Starfleet and stay the fuck away from me —"
• He has the same strong arms and heavy heart, perfectly broken by the world and Jim’s to keep, damn it, because he’d found him and claimed him when no one else had wanted him and that was how lost property worked.
• It occurs to him that he might have crossed the point of no return on this front a while back, which is mildly embarrassing for a tactical prodigy.