Chapter Text
Day 19 - Movie Nights || Laughter, snacks, and cuddles.
A desperate call for help on a Federation world suffering from a plague, which arrived at the same moment the Enterprise was warping to a critical diplomatic summit, had necessitated a divide-and-conquer strategy. The Enterprise had continued to the summit with the two dozen ambassadors who were aboard, but had sent McCoy to the plague planet in the shuttle Galileo. The Captain had assigned Scotty to be McCoy’s pilot, protector, and all-around carer; the Doctor would sometimes push himself too far on these sorts of missions, and Kirk was confident that Scotty wouldn’t let him.
Two weeks and two successful missions later, the Galileo and Enterprise were headed for a rendezvous 48 hours later. McCoy had spent the first twelve hours sleeping, and the next eight filing a report for Starfleet, but now was restless and bored, to Scotty’s exasperation. Scott finally put the ship on autopilot, shoved McCoy into the small bed in the back of the shuttle, and flipped to the seldom-used entertainment section of his padd.
“I dinnae have any idea who any of these actors are. I havenae watched a vid in twenty years. Pick something,” he said, and tossed it onto McCoy’s chest.
“You haven’t watched a vid in twenty years?” McCoy asked in disbelief, sitting up.
“Unless you count mathematics lectures from MIT, nae. Pick something. I’ll make popcorn.”
“The synthesizers can’t make popcorn, they just make vaguely buttery foam bits …” McCoy started, and on Scotty’s look spread his hands in mock frustration. “You really need to start telling me when you reprogram food. Seriously, I need a list.”
“Pick a movie!” Scotty called over his shoulder.
“Just for that it’s going to be a romantic comedy,” McCoy grumped, and sat back in the bed. It was a narrow, lumpy rack. On the trip out they’d rotated sleep time on it, and barely slept at all while dealing with the plague planet. And there wasn’t really room for two, but Scotty handed him a bowl of popcorn, dimmed the lights, and scooted in beside him.
“Popcorn,” McCoy said reverently, popping a perfect crunchy-buttery bite in his mouth.
“I lost a bet tae Chekov, and this was the payment,” Scotty shrugged, and put his head on McCoy’s chest. “Go on then, play your movie.”
“You can’t fall asleep,” McCoy said, poking him.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Scotty yawned, and was snoring before the opening title.
McCoy finished his snacks, and the end credits of the vid woke him up two hours later. “Great,” he grumbled, and Scotty shifted against him. “We are both the one who sleeps through the movie.”
“Nae, I watched the whole thing,” Scotty said lazily.
“Is that so? What was it about?”
“Big-time Starbase exec goes back tae Earth, meets an organic farmer, and learns the true meaning of Christmas,” Scotty laughed, the rumble in his chest against McCoy’s settling pleasantly.
McCoy paused. “Okay, that’s the plot of all of them,” he said, and tilted his head for a slow kiss, both of them stubble-rough. “I think I’ve got popcorn in my teeth,” he apologized.
“Leave it, Leonard,” Scotty said, then rolled on top of him with a determined breath. He skimmed the shirt up McCoy’s body and pulled it mostly over his head, thumbs catching every sensitive spot, not bothering to untangle McCoy’s hands from his sleeves before going to work on his belt. McCoy’s heart pounded double-time in his ears when Scotty tugged his trousers just below his hips, and then followed from navel down with his lips. McCoy arched against the touch, and finally managed to untangle his hands from his shirt just in time to get a shakily grip on the headboard.
“God … Scotty,” he barely managed.
They had hours yet before rendezvous with the ship, and they’d unravel each other completely in this terrible bunk. And this, McCoy considered, rushing ecstatically toward where Scotty was taking him, this right here was his favorite romance.