ad astra per aspera

Two friends from childhood vow to always be friends, but they grow apart when one of them moves away. Fast forward couple decades where one is successful and the other has fallen on harsh times and is homeless. The successful one takes in their old best friend and falls in love, but doesn't act on it because it would be taking advantage of them. The homeless friend gets back onto their feet, moves out and after getting a job and places of their own, asks out their friend on a date.

“Always and forever, you promised.” Jimmy Kirk whispered from his sleeping bag just feet away from Leo’s. They were sleeping in a pop-up tent behind the farmhouse, close enough that they could run inside if something spooked them and far enough away that they couldn’t quite see Leo’s mom and dad peeking at them from the wide kitchen windows. “Yeah, but only if you let me go to sleep, brat.” Leo grumbled, rolling over so that he can get a glimpse of the lively fire that was still blazing from their s'mores attempt earlier. They ended up eating more marshmallows and chocolate than an actual put together s'more but the fire was still comfortable and he knew his parents would make sure it was out completely before they went to bed. Jim sat up, face lit up by the fire and freckles standing out against an otherwise pale face. He got so white in the winter that Leo’s mama fed him extra servings of everything. “You can’t promise something in exchange for something else. That won’t count.”Leo sighed. Jim was four-years-younger and his best friend regardless. They had shuffled together out of boredom and desperation–Leo’s mama volunteering to babysit Jim when Winona first came to Madison, Georgia, with nothing to her name except a five-year-old shadow named Sam and a wailing baby. The town gossip said that Winona’s husband had died on the day baby James was born and that she had fled Iowa as fast and as far as she could go.“I meant it, okay? You’ll be my best friend always and forever, no matter what.”That seemed to appeal Jim, who snuggled back into his sleeping bag and fell asleep minutes later. Leo tried not to think what always and forever looked like and if that was a promise he would keep–even if he already knew he would do everything and anything to try. ***Leo was starting to hate the townhouse he had bought the year of his big promotion to head of surgery at Atlanta General. It was draftier than it seemed, too big and took too long to make it look presentable for when his mother came over. She had a penchant for announcing a visit a day before she would arrive, about to drop a bomb that would upset his fragile staus quo for months after she went back to Madison, leaving him untethered in Atlanta. Two years ago, it was that she was selling the farmhouse and relocating to the new over 50 community (more luxury than comfort). Last year it was that she was remarrying–fifteen years after David McCoy had passed away and twelve after she started vehemently protesting (and unfriending) anyone who tried to set her up. Her new beau, as she called him, was named Christopher Pike and he had moved to Georgia from San Francisco, where he spent years before retirement teaching at some prepatory for rich service brats. Two days ago, she had called and annouced that her and Chris were coming for the weekend–she was desperate to see her son before their Christmas vacation to England and Scotland and had decided to stage a Christmas brunch, lunch and dinner into the three days she would be invading his home. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have any room, it was just that he had finally gotten used to the quiet that three oversized stories afforded and had enjoyed being a confirmed bachelor, no matter his mother’s protestations that he find someone after the divorce. But five-years post-marriage had made him comfortable with living alone, no one to balk at his long nights at the hospital, no one to nag him about not spending enough time being together. ***He was prepared for his mother and Christopher Pike. He was not prepared for Jimmy Kirk. “Hey,” Jim said, a tad sheepishly, ducking his head as Leo stared, open-mouthed at the new arrival at his front door. “Leo, you remember, Jim, right?” Eleanora McCoy unwrapped her rather long multicolored scarf and set it on a hook provided by a sturdy wooden hall tree. Chris Pike still kept every stitch of winter clothing on, as if he was ready to bolt the first moment of trouble. Leo, still lost for words, nodded. 

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I'd like to request a fic! Mckirk, please. Maybe academy era where their dreaming of their future in space? I'm not sure my request went through earlier so this may be a duplicate!

The quad was dead. The only movement was the occasional flicker of the lights that always had a penchant of acting like they were possessed.

It was the perfect spot for Jim and Bones to lay on a blanket. Abandoned and all their own, even the staunchest of professors had gone home for the holiday.

“You ever think of what’s next?” Jim asked and tossed a ball above his head. It was one of the translucent sparkly globes that were sold off the streets to attract kids to space. It glowed a magnificent red on its ascent and as it spiraled downward, it shone a vibrant blue.

“Not sure if I’m sauced enough for this conversation.” Bones asked, pulling at some of the grass at the edge of their blanket. It was too warm for a December night in San Francisco but Bones was grateful for it. This beat drinking in a stuffy bar or on the sunken in couch in their apartment.

‘No, but seriously. What’s your best case scenario was, like if you could have anything I wanted at the end of the Academy?”

Bones twisted the grass strands into a chain, already missing the quiet from a minute ago. He stared off at the blinking of another quad light as its twin on the opposite side went out.  “I’m not good with these things, Jim.”

Jim sat up, tossing the ball on the blanket. “What do you mean? It’s just a stupid question.”

“It’s not. It’s a loaded one. You want a Captaincy–to explore space beyond the reaches of the admiralty. Well, that’s great. You’ll get that one day. But–shit, I can’t talk about this right now.” Bones pushed off the blanket as Jim scrambled behind him.

“Wait!” Jim grabbed for the sleeve of Bones’ Starfleet hoodie, the worn edges so familiar from Jim having spent time in the library or their apartment with the ends bunched up around his always cold hands. “What’s wrong?”

Bones blew out his breath. “C’mon, kid. Why you gotta always bring the bad shit up?”

“Who said anything about bad shit! I wanted to talk about the good shit. What’s next when we finally make our own choices.”

Because I don’t have a choice. Bones rubbed at his forehead, a headache from not enough caffeine or water or maybe even something more potent pushing out from his temples.

“Bones,” Jim said with the same softness he used when he thought his best friend was too hungover to hear him all gentle and sweet-toned. “Look at me.”

He did. And then he made a decision. A decision as impulsive as the one he made to get on a Shuttle in Riverside, Iowa. “You.”

Jim’s face screwed up in a look of instant confusion. “Huh?”

Bones laughed, he couldn’t help it. “You. That’s what’s next. I’m following you. Wherever you want to go, Jim, I’m with you. To the black, to a colony, back to Iowa.”

“You’d go to space for me?” Jim’s face is a mix of amused and flushed, the nearest light flickering on when Bones started talking and illuminating them in a bright orange glow.

“I’m pretty sure I’d follow you anywhere.”

This is the close the both have come to talking seriously while sober or when they’re both awake. Bones knows Jim was semi-conscious when Bones professed at Jim’s ICU bedside how much he needed him (they don’t talk about how Bones was almost expelled for punching the instructor that demanded Jim try complete dangerous high level simulation with the flu because to miss the examination would be to fail it). Bones also overheard Jim thank him for saving Jim’s life. Bones doesn’t want to delve too deep into that but he knows Jim saved him too.

“Whatever we are or become. I want you to know that.” Bones said, his voice taking on the gruff southern burr that were usually reserved for two or three drinks in.

Jim’s eyes scanned Bones face, landing on his lips. His tongue darted out over his top lip and for that quick second Bones moves forward, reaching for the back of Jim’s insufferable, gorgeous head and while tangling his fingers in his hair, thumb running down the side of his neck, he pulled him in for a kiss.

For a first kiss, it’s sloppy, almost comical in the slide of lips as each of them move their lips over the other’s. But it’s their first kiss and like most things of they share, it’s perfectly imperfect, unique and in it’s own time.

Bones has to wonder if the little shit planned this out from the minute they set up the blanket on the quad. And he found that he doesn’t much care, just grateful for the end result.