Title: Distant Sun

Author: Tearsofamiko

Character(s): Jim Kirk / Leonard McCoy, Joanna McCoy, Deborah McCoy

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I like them very much, but they are not the hell my whales. (Horribly misquoted, but it makes me laugh.)

Summary: Summer of Love challenge ficlet for jim_and_bones, inspiration: summer storms. (Comes after As the Day Burns Away)

.:::.

The first gust of wind jangles the windchimes hanging off a porch eave, drawing their attention away from lunch and to the west-facing windows. Joanna's eyes are wide and dark, he notices, glancing over at her before a slow roll of thunder pulls his gaze back to the window. The roiling clouds in the not-too distance look ominous, but not deserving of such fear and he wonders if Bones knows how afraid his little girl is of storms.

With the next gust of wind, he finds himself standing at the kitchen door, watching lightning flicker on the horizon, without a clue as to how he got from the table to the door. Counting to himself, he times the thunder as he studies the wind's direction, finally coming to the conclusion that, while they won't get the worst of the storm, it'll be a fair blow, definitely worth a few precautions. Turning back to the table, he meets three identical hazel stares and grins.

"Toldja it would rain Friday," he quips and Bones scowls, rolling his eyes as he pulls himself up from the table to stand next to Jim and survey the weather for himself. His grandmother starts gathering the dishes, attracting Joanna's attention to keep her focused away from the storm. Jim smiles at them, catching Deborah's eye and winking as she asks Joanna what kind of cookies they should fix for an afternoon snack. Turning back to look at Bones, he's surprised at the frustrated scowl etched across the man's face.

"We left the windows open at the house," he grumbles at Jim's questioning eyebrow. Jim blinks and looks at the clouds again, re-counting the time between lightning and thunder and calculating the distances.

"I could go close 'em for you," he offers, already moving to open the door and step out onto the back porch. Bones follows him, fingers plucking at Jim's t-shirt as he tries to stop him.

"No, Jim, we walked. There's no way you could-"

"S'not that far," Jim interrupts, stepping down off the porch as a gust of wind plasters his t-shirt to his chest. He closes his eyes, smells the storm on the air, and remembers the storms in Iowa, remembers the thrill and the thrall, the electric charge of adrenaline that comes with the scent of ozone and stormclouds. He turns and grins at Bones, catches his breath at the way the man is briefly highlighted by a slice of sunshine, then cloaked in shadows. Bones' hazel eyes are as gold-green as the sun-drenched trees in the distance and the effect is nearly devastating.

"Three miles, Jim, by the road."

"So I won't take the road." He's already walking toward the fence bordering a nearby field, planting one foot on the bottom slat and vaulting over it.

"You're gonna break your fool neck runnin' across that field, Jim Kirk!" Bones shouts as Jim starts jogging, grinning into the wind as he sidesteps furrows and humps in the dirt.

He's halfway there, out of the field and in the middle of the uncultivated land that makes up Bones' huge yard, when the clouds split overhead. He's instantly drenched, goosebumps spreading over his skin as he ups his speed, feeling like he's flying with the wind at his back and the rain in his face. He blinks water out of his eyes and leaps up the porch steps, fumbling with the screen door as his hand slips. He's uselessly attempting to dry his hand on his soaked t-shirt when someone thunders up the steps behind him, crashing into him and landing them pressed firmly against each other against the door.

"God dammit, Jim," Bones grouches, bracing his hands on the door on either side of Jim's head, glaring down at Jim as he runs a cursory sweep for injuries with his eyes. Jim's mouth goes dry at Bones' appearance, greedily taking in the dripping bangs, wet clothes, and mud-splattered legs while his heart pounds in his chest, equal parts arousal and adrenaline racing through him. Bones should look like a drowned rat. He doesn't.

Amber-jade eyes lock on his own sapphire blues as Bones realizes exactly how close they are, Jim leaning against the screen door with Bones standing between his legs, both panting from the run, Bones' body heat warming Jim's rain-wet skin. Jim runs his tongue over his lips, catching the raindrops lingering on his face, and Bones' eyes glow, a warm honey-rich amber that sends shivers through Jim. And Jim wants, so badly he aches, though he's strangely loath to do anything about it, would rather savor the expression on Bones' face, in his eyes.

A crack of thunder that sounds to be practically over the house makes Jim flinch in surprise and Bones draws back, slowly pushing himself off the door and stepping away, eyes still trained on Jim. They watch each other, something breathless and almost-awkward hovering between them, until a brilliant flash of lightning flares through the air. Bones blinks and rubs a hand through his hair, standing it up in amusing spikes that he absolutely doesn't notice. Jim bites his lip on a smile and turns back to face the door, finally able to get enough of a grip on it to pull it open. Bones' hand settles on the door above Jim's, his presence warm and heavy at Jim's back as they step into the shadowed darkness of the house.

Bones heads upstairs to close windows while Jim takes care of the downstairs. They meet in the middle, air close and warm around them as they stand together, breaths away from each other, and consider a kiss.