I liked this prompt so much I wanted to write a ficlet for it too. :D
Sometimes Jim worries that he doesn't know who he is when there's no excitement around; it's all flash, bangs and action with him, never being still (stillness leaves room for introspection, too much thought, and thinking's never done anything for him but leave him discontented). If the world isn't going to hell where he stands, then what use is he (and if there's no use for him, people will leave, they always leave)?
"Just sit here with me, Jim," Bones says softly, threading their fingers together and pulling him close, and the look in his eyes is both heated and lazy and--oh, Jim thinks, oh, maybe this isn't so hard after all.
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Sometimes Jim worries that he doesn't know who he is when there's no excitement around; it's all flash, bangs and action with him, never being still (stillness leaves room for introspection, too much thought, and thinking's never done anything for him but leave him discontented). If the world isn't going to hell where he stands, then what use is he (and if there's no use for him, people will leave, they always leave)?
"Just sit here with me, Jim," Bones says softly, threading their fingers together and pulling him close, and the look in his eyes is both heated and lazy and--oh, Jim thinks, oh, maybe this isn't so hard after all.