Jim didn't care where McCoy's enthusiasm came from. He was benefiting. The bond curled around them, as if grateful for their reunion. As Spock slid McCoy's shirts over his head, Jim reached around the waistband of his trousers and slid his hand--smaller, more delicate, but strong enough--underneath. His nipples hardening at the coolness of the air, he found them curiously sensitive where they brushed against McCoy's chest. He wanted everything at once.