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McCoy canceled his plans to have fun when he got the call from Jim’s comm number. The call had been just one more of the series of bartender’s calling for him to get his sorry ass from them. It didn’t even rank high on Kirk’s drunken adventures, but it was up there for the list of Jim’s bar fights.
“Jim, for fuck’s sake, there is a difference between taking risks and asking to get yourself killed”.
Jim heard the hiss from the hypospray right next to his left ear. The blonde cadet tried to smile up to the good old doctor but his face came across as a grimace. McCoy huffed. He helped him to lay down on the sofa. As always, after some time spent gallivanting from pub to pub, Jim Kirk had found himself on the receiving end of an idiot’s fist.
“Bones…” muttered the idiot in that juvenile voice.
“You are paying me back for the taxi, you moron” the doctor grumbled looking at the man’s pupils looking for a concussion. “You puked all over it. I’m never getting a taxi in this city ever again”.
McCoy attempted to go to the kitchen. To get something for Jim to vomit into, instead of the carpeted floor. His friend hadn’t lost his grip on the doctor’s jacket. Jim was going to fall asleep any moment now, so he sat down on the floor, next to the sofa. He glanced at the time once, twice. He was not falling asleep. Not after his 6 hours shift in the clinic and those damn terrifying two hours of compulsory practice hours at the simulators added to his usually packed timetable. He wasn’t even that tired.
He woke up to the sound of the faucet running water. McCoy was sitting on the floor with his head pressed against the cushioned set. Damn, his neck hurt. When he got himself up his back made a cracking noise and he whimpered. Scratch the last one, that crack had been more painful.
“I hate you” McCoy groaned miserably. He was too old for this shit.
“I don’t think you do” Kirk answered, coming out of the bathroom only in a towel and brushing his teeth.
“You look like something a dog dug out” McCoy grumbled looking at the bruising.
“My gummies are bleeding” Jim said like it was nothing.
“Then go to the hospital. I might have to use their services as well” McCoy was rubbing his back trying to ease the pain.
“Yeah, you were sleeping on the floor”
“Trust me. I know” McCoy snapped, getting annoyed by Jim’s antics.
Jim’s towel decided to give up and fall to the floor making McCoy groan louder and Jim laugh like a child.
