He Calls Me Bones

Based off the song Raymond by Brett Eldredge. McKirk Au

“He calls me Bones,” Leonard says as he and Christine walk shoulder to shoulder down a long hospital hallway. Both have coffees clutched in hand with a manila folder held in the other. Christine’s long blonde hair was tired back in a simple yet professional bun. While Leonard’s scruff hadn’t been shaved in going on three days. They did not walk quickly as there was no emergency or call for assistance but they did set a faster than normal pace both eager to get to their lunch break. Turning the corner, Leonard held his hand out for Christine’s folder then handed them both off to the nurse on duty working at the desk.

“The patient in room five is having discomfort, tell Dr. M’Benga to look in on her. Also Mr. Hill in room nineteen thinks that his bandage is too tight around his chest.”

“I’ll check on him, doctor. Have a good lunch.”

“Thanks,” he nodded and he and Christine were off to the elevator and down the hall towards the hospital cafeteria.

“So who calls you Bones?” Christine asks when they sit down, matching salads on their trays. Leonard had another cup of coffee while Christine went for a Coke today.

“The man in room nine, James Kirk.”

“Oh…” Christine looks down at her fork playing with her salad. She knew the man who’d been sent up to their floor three weeks ago trapped inside a deep coma. He’d only woken yesterday but Christine hadn’t actually seen him awake just yet. “You spoke with him? I thought he wasn’t talking.”

“Oh he talks,” Leonard shakes his head rolling his eyes. “The kid can talk my damn ear off and he’s only been awake for two days. He doesn’t remember anything before the accident, but things are coming back. This morning he told me his birthday and his address so we’re getting somewhere.”

Taking a crunching bite from her salad, Christine asked, “Does he remember what the T stands for?”

“He didn’t this morning but I’m sure it’ll come back.” With a shake of his head Leonard dug into his salad laughing. “Tiberius. What sick mother would saddle her kid with that kinda name?”

Christine eyed him with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t know Horatio, who would do that?”

They were both quiet for a moment.

“We shall never speak of this again.” Leonard demanded digging into his lunch. Christine just laughed.

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ngl the mckirk fandom (yep calling it that because it pretty much is a fandom itself) is still the one i probably feel most comfortable in

like, i don’t think i’ve ever seen drama happening in there and everyone is really nice and the headcanons and fics are amazing and everyone’s super great to multishippers and spirk shippers

i really love the mckirk fandom

anonymous asked:

mirrorverse daemon au Jim's is a fUCKING TIGER but Bones' is a poison dart frog and they aren't as lovey dovey as regular Jim and Bones' but they show their 'affection' in various other ways, like how Bones' frog sits on Jim's tiger's head or snout like 24/7 and all you see is this giant fucking tiger with a tiny little blue-black frog on its nose while it yawns and cleans its face. they're also totally chill when their humans fuck like rabbits in public and pretty much just ignore them tbh


and imagine that they roll their eyes when they see bones fucking jim against the wall, totally desensitised to it

Kirk sat motionless on the edge of his desk, legs firmly on the ground, arms clutching the edge. He’s been staring at the body for hours now, arranged neatly, as neatly as a corpse can be, on the ground a few paces away. If it wasn’t for the blood he could almost say he was sleeping. But Bones was never going to wake up. 

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thepathlesstrekked asked:

Number 13 or 32 for mckirk? :DD

13. “Kiss me.”

 “Hey, Bones.” 

Leonard ignores the tentative whisper, because it’s the middle of the night and he’s exhausted, and if he gives in now then he’ll never hear the end of it. He closes his eyes and keeps his back turned towards Jim’s bed on the other side of the room.

There’s a restless rustle, then, “Bones, you awake?”

Fuck’s sake. Leonard gives a low grunt that could be interpreted however the hell Jim wants. 

“Bones, I can’t sleep.”

“For the love of God, Jim,” Leonard says aloud, rolling onto his back and squinting into the darkness. “Are you six?”

He can just barely make out the top of Jim’s face, the glint of his eyes as he stares plaintively across the room at Leonard. “I’m cold.”

Leonard opens his mouth, ready to scold him to sleep if necessary, but the truth is, it really is too cold. You’d think, Leonard muses, that with the millions of funding they put into this damn place, they’d invest in some better heating.

“I can’t feel my feet,”Jim adds, a little pathetically for dramatic effect, and Leonard sighs.

“Come here.”


“Come here.” He lifts up the edge of his blanket. “Before I change my damn mind.”

He’s always surprised by how quickly Jim can move with the right motivation. At least the kid has the presence of mind of bring his own blankets with him, piling them on Leonard’s bed before diving into the space Leonard left for him.

The bed’s cramped enough that they have to squeeze together, Jim’s cold feet immediately pressing against Leonard’s shins and making him grumble. 

“God, your feet—”

“I told you, that’s why I couldn’t—”

“Aw, jeez, just—” He ends up with his arm around Jim’s waist, his nose pressed against Jim’s forehead. “There, you happy now?”

“Yeah.” Jim’s breath puffs against his chin, warm against the side of his neck. His fingers tug and worry absently at the edge of Leonard’s shirt, pushing underneath occasionally to stroke over his bare hip. 

It’s not the first time they’ve done this, and it sure as hell won’t be the last. For now, that’s good enough for Leonard. He knows what Jim’s going to say seconds before he does, his voice soft and drowsy and just on the right side of hopeful.

“Kiss me?”

“You’re a bit too old for a goodnight kiss, don’t you think?” He’s only stalling now and they both know it.

“I’m never too old,” Jim says confidently. “I’m Peter Pan, didn’t you know?”

Leonard snorts, surprised, and his mouth presses against the corner of Jim’s eye without him meaning to. “You’re weird as hell, kid.”

“Mm, yeah, so I’ve heard.”Jim wriggles up until he’s eye level with Leonard. “Kiss me, Bones,” he says again, quietly. “Yeah?”

Leonard stares at him, at the inevitability that is Jim goddamn Kirk, and blinks. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah.” And he does. 

Based off the prompt ’You’re the bartender and you catch someone slipping something into my drink’ McKirk Au

The pill fell into Jim’s glass soundlessly sinking to the bottom of the brown rust colored liquid slowly dissolving while Jim looked up towards the entrance of the bar seeking for somebody, anybody to save him from the man who’d plopped down next to his left. Finding no one he knew to save him, Jim reluctantly turned back to facing forward. He held back a gasp finding the man way too inside his personal space.

“Uhh,” Jim cleared his throat trying to find some dignity. “Personal bubble?”

The man, red hair too bright even with bar lights dimming the atmosphere and eyes brown but dull looked back at him. Jim held back a shiver, he didn’t know why but he sure as shit didn’t want this man as close as he was. Something was wrong with him, Jim just couldn’t figure out what. The bar top was sticky as the man – Jim hadn’t even caught his name or if he did he couldn’t remember – grabbed for the drink he’d brought with him when he’d sat down. He held up his beer bottle. “A toast?”

“To what?”

“Don’t bare your teeth at people, Jimmy. It’s bad taste.” Gaila’s scolding voiced laughed in his head.

Please go away, please go away. Jim’d had a long day and this was just perfect, just what he didn’t need. Some guy trying to pick him up on fucking Thirsty Thursday. Kirk luck running true to form.

Annoying Guy clanked his glass against Jim’s loudly with a thin smirk on his pale pasty face. Even his smile spiked a pit of unease inside Jim. The man waited, patiently switching to look between the drink in front of Jim and Jim's’ lips. The blonde felt a cold chill run down his arms making the hair stand on end. His Danger sense was tingling - something wasn’t right.

Fine. Alright. Just a little bit of liquid courage then he’d tell this guy to beat it. He picked up his glass feeling condensation wetting his hand then brought it up to his mouth–

“Hey! Stop!” A deep accented voice yelled a second before the brim of the glass touched Jim’s lips. He swung his head around seeing a good looking man advancing towards him with fire blazing through his eyes like a mother bear protecting her cubs.  It was the bartender. And he was pissed.


Jim felt his heart race at the sight of him, what? What had he done? He wasn’t starting a fight – for once. He wasn’t trying to pick anyone up – for once. And he wasn’t trying to have a quickie in the bathroom – okay, that was one time… two times. He’d never even been inside this bar before!

The bartender growled, actually growled when he stomped close enough.

“He laced it. Put a pill in your drink, kid.” The batman’s face was red as he spat the words. Jim felt his drink dropping from his hand, it spilled over the already sticky wood. He jerked back when the older man with stubble dusting his chin lunged forward grabbing for the asshole next to him. Anger made Jim’s cheeks redden but before he could do anything the pissed off barman had his would-be drugger out of his seat and across the bar by the collar of his shirt.

Damn. Stubbled Barman was strong.

Jim didn’t noticed the other patrons in the bar quiet down listening in, rubber-necking and trying to get up on tip toes to see what was happening.

“Listen here you little prick,” Barman started just loud enough for Jim to hear over the music. He was an inch in front of Asshole Guy’s face. “If you ever do something like that again I won’t hesitate to shove my foot so far up your ugly ass you’ll be tasting leather.” He snarled as the guy whimpered out something. Barman looked scary, brown and green blended eyes blazing and hair falling down into his face. “I should beat your ass right now for tryin’ to pull somethin’ like that. As it is, I’m not fixin’ to replace my tables again so I’ll just have Spock here escort you out.” A man shouldered his way to beside Jim. He was tall, black haired and though his muscles didn’t bulge there was an air of don’t-mess-with-me about him.

The guy whimpered something out again that Jim couldn’t hear but the bartender shook him hard, silencing him as his head snapped back and forth.

“If I ever see you in my bar again you might find yourself having an accident. Get me?” Then low, so low that even Jim wondered if he’d heard it right the bartender whispered, “No one ever suspects the bartender, get what I’m saying?”

As quickly as it all began Jim saw the man being shoved back and grabbed by the other man who stood next to him. He was then marched – shoved – out the bar roughly. Jim just sat there. Shocked and feeling sick to his stomach. Liquid from his spilled drink made the wood slick and wet, his clothes had taken the brunt of the drugged alcoholic beverage. His pants and lower shirt were soaked. He had to think back, did he drink anything after the guy had drugged it? Shit. He was almost roofied. Shit. That would’ve been bad. Like really bad. Like horribly bad. The guy could have killed him or-or raped him or done anything he wanted with him! Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Hey, kid!” The bartender that had saved him grabbed for Jim’s shoulder when he’s started to sway sideways. “You with me?” His savior looked generally concerned eyeing him without removing his hand. “What’s your name?”

“Jim… Jim Kirk.” His voice was hoarse. He blinked sluggishly feeling bile at the back of his throat. God, he was going to be sick.

“Leonard.” The man said.

Jim blinked at him again. “Huh?”

“My name,” the man – Leonard – chuckled running his hand through his hair. “Take a deep breath Jim, you’re not breathing.”

“Oh,” Jim felt so stupid. In more ways than one. He drew in a deep breath filling his lungs until he couldn’t put any more air inside then let it out slowly. “Thanks for-uh-”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously, no big deal.”

Jim just nodded not trusting his voice. He should really get home, change - possibly throw away - his clothes, go to bed and try to pretend this disastrous night never happened.

“Why don’t I buy you a drink? You can even watch me pour it to make sure.” Leonard gave him a closed lipped smile cocking his head to the side placing one hip against the bar and a hand on his other. Jim shook his head about to protest but then sighed. “Just water would be good at this point.”

Looking down at the wood Jim tried not to feel the stares on his back from the other patrons. So much for a quiet night out. Absently he scratched at a chip in the wood with his blunt fingernail pushing around a cube of ice. A glass of iced water was sat down in front of him the same time as Leonard filled the stool to the right.

“I’m gonna sit with you awhile, alright darlin? You’re gonna be fine.”

Jim felt a smile play over the side of his mouth, he felt oddly comforted by this strange man who’d basically saved his life. He turned towards Leonard feeling warmth swell in his stomach. Leonard looked back at him with an easy smile and a soft look playing in his eyes.

TW 5x05 thoughts

Yes I’m late to the party, and thanks to poor wifi in Thailand I haven’t been able to be on tumblr much and haven’t gotten to read up on any meta from this episode. As a result I’m in serious danger of repeating stuff you’ve already discussed. 

A lot of jumbled and disorganized musings under the cut

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