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Y/N had kept his trans identity secret for a very long time, managed to make it through the academy and everything, and never questioned. But there was one man— no matter what— who would push.
It wasn’t intentional; he came from a sincere place, but when he noticed that Y/N had never gotten a physical while on the Enterprise, Dr. Leonard McCoy was beyond concerned and suspicious.
So, like any good, friendly doctor, he dragged Y/N ass to sickbay to be examined.
McCoy’s grip wasn’t harsh, but it was firm enough that Y/N knew there was no point in fighting him. His accent only got thicker when he was frustrated, and right now it was practically honey-coated irritation.
“Dammit, kid, you’ve been aboard for months. Months. And not a single physical?” he snapped, pushing open the sickbay doors with his hip. “You must think I’m the most gullible doctor in the entire damn quadrant.”
Y/N swallowed hard, heat creeping up their neck. “I-I’m fine, Doctor. Really. I’ve never had any issues.”
“That’s not the point." McCoy shot back, guiding them to the nearest biobed. “Starfleet requires regular examinations, especially for new crew. And you—” he pointed a finger at their chest, “—have managed to dodge me since the day you set foot on this ship. Which is one hell of a feat, I’ll give you that, but it stops now.”
Y/N sat stiffly on the bed, fingers curling around the edge. Their heart pounded so loudly they were sure Bones could hear it.
He turned to the console, muttering to himself. “You eat? Sleep? Pull anything? Any injuries? Headaches? Stomach aches? Chronic fear of doctors—hell, at this point I’d take that as an explanation—”
“I’m not afraid of doctors,” Y/N murmured.
McCoy stopped typing.
Slowly, he turned his head, blue eyes narrowing with that mixture of suspicion and genuine concern he was infamous for.
“Then why,” he said, voice low and steady, “are you sitting there lookin’ like I’m about to put you out an airlock?”
Y/N looked away. Their throat tightened. This wasn’t how they wanted him to find out. Hell, they hadn’t planned on ever telling anyone, least of all him.
Bones approached, leaning a hand on the bed beside them—close enough to feel the warmth of his presence, close enough to make escape impossible without shoving him.
“Hey,” he said, softer now. “Talk to me. If somethin’s wrong—if you’re hidin’ somethin’ medical—Y/N, I need to know. Not as your doctor…” His voice caught for a moment. “…but as someone who cares.”
That word cares hit harder than any accusation.
Y/N bit their lip. Their voice came out barely above a whisper.
“I… I didn’t get a physical because… you’d find out.”
McCoy’s brows knit. “Find out what?”
Another beat of silence. Y/N’s chest ached.
“I’m trans,” they finally breathed. “I transitioned before the Academy. Legally, medically. Everything. And nobody’s questioned it since. I just… didn’t want anyone here to know.”
Bones blinked—once, twice—processing.
Then, very gently, he let out a breath.
“…That’s all?”
Y/N looked up sharply. “That’s—? Bones, that’s not nothing. You could—you might—”
“Darlin’.” He sat on the stool beside them, hands relaxed, expression steady. “I’m a doctor. I’ve treated Andorians with four genders, Vulcans with organs they don’t even talk about, and Denobulans who only get sick every few years like it’s a holiday. And you’re worried this is gonna throw me?”
He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“You’re still you. Nothin’ changes that.”
The tension in Y/N’s chest eased—but not completely.
“…So you’re not mad?”
“Mad?” McCoy scoffed. “Hell, I’m relieved. I thought you were ignorin’ me because you hated me.”
Y/N laughed—just a small, shaky sound—but Bones lit up like it was the first real one he’d heard from them.
He reached for his tricorder.
“Now that we’ve cleared that up, I’m still doin’ a physical. But I’ll go slow, explain every step, and we’ll only do what you’re comfortable with. Deal?”
Y/N looked at him—really looked—and realized something warm was blooming in their chest.
Something dangerous. Something tender.
“…Deal.”
Bones smiled, soft and genuine.
“Good. Now lie back, darlin’. Doctor’s orders.”
“Alright,” he said, voice warm but steady. “I’m gonna start with the basics—blood pressure, heart rate. Nothing invasive. If you want me to stop, you say the word. Understood?”
Y/N nodded.
“Good.” His lips curled into something small and reassuring.
“You’re doin’ fine.”
He wrapped the cuff around Y/N’s arm, careful—almost absurdly gentle for someone known to patch up half the crew with grumbling efficiency. His touch always surprised people. Gruff voice, tender hands.
As the cuff tightened, Y/N swallowed. They could feel their pulse hammering beneath McCoy’s fingers.
“…Your heart’s goin’ a mile a minute,” he murmured, reading the display.
Y/N grimaced. “Sorry. Just… nerves.”
“Don’t apologize.” Bones looked up at them, eyes soft but intent. “Anyone would be rattled. Especially trustin’ someone with somethin’ this personal.”
He loosened the cuff and set it aside with a subtle smile.
“I’m damn honored you told me, y’know.”
The words hit harder than expected.
Y/N stared, blinking. “Honored?”
“Course I am.” Bones shrugged, but there was heat in his voice.
“You didn’t owe me a damn thing. Yet you trusted me enough to let me in. That means somethin’.”
Something warm unfurled in Y/N’s chest.
Dangerous.
Hopeful.
Bones reached for the tricorder next.
“Gonna run a surface scan. No touching yet.”
The soft lilting hum of the tricorder filled the space between them. Y/N watched him, watched how his brows furrowed in concentration, how he kept flicking his gaze back to them like he was checking their anxiety levels more than their vitals.
“You’re healthy,” he said after a moment.
“Which is good. But I can see why getting this physical was stressin’ you.”
“That obvious?”
He gave a small huff of a laugh. “Darlin’, I’m a doctor. I read people for a livin’. And I’ve been reading you for months.”
Y/N blinked. “…Reading me?”
“Figuratively. Though medically, I guess, now I’m literal about it.”
Their laugh came out breathy, surprised. Bones’ grin widened just a touch—an expression that didn’t come out often, but when it did, it felt like being hit with a sunbeam.
He lowered the tricorder.
“Alright. If you’re comfortable, last step is a standard chest and abdominal exam. Shirt off or up—whatever feels safest. And if it doesn’t feel safe at all, we skip it. I can work around anything.”
Y/N hesitated.
Their fingers hovered at the hem of their shirt.
Bones noticed instantly.
“Hey.” His voice dropped to a low, comforting rumble.
“You’re not alone in this room. You’ve got me. And I’m not gonna judge your scars, or your history, or your body. Not now, not ever.”
Y/N’s breath hitched.
Something in the way he said you’ve got me made their pulse spike again—different this time.
Softer.
Warmer.
McCoy stepped closer, but not too close. Enough to be present. Enough to let them feel that steady anchor he always carried.
“We go at your pace,” he repeated.
Y/N nodded slowly and lifted their shirt.
Bones froze—not in shock, not in discomfort. In respect. Full attention, full gentleness.
His gaze flicked briefly to the top surgery scars, then right back to their face.
“Alright,” he said quietly.
“Thank you for trusting me with this.”
His voice held something new—something deeper, something he wasn’t quite acknowledging out loud.
McCoy’s fingers brushed their sternum, professional but warm. Every touch was an unspoken vow:
I see you. I respect you. I care.
Y/N let out a shaky breath.
“You’re doin’ great,” he murmured.
His thumb paused near their ribcage.
“And if anyone onboard ever gives you trouble over who you are—well. They’ll find out just how mean an old country doctor can be.”
Y/N laughed, a soft, genuine sound, one that pulled a smile straight out of him.
“That’s better,” Bones said, his voice like a warm hand cupping their heart.
“I like hearin’ you laugh.”
Their eyes met.
Held.
Lingering.
Y/N felt the air shift, thickening into something almost electric, almost forbidden.
Bones cleared his throat abruptly and pulled back just enough to keep things in the safe zone.
“Scan’s done,” he said softly.
“You did damn good.”
But he didn’t step away entirely.
He stayed close.
Close enough that Y/N could feel his warmth, his presence, the unspoken question resting somewhere between them.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
The sickbay was quiet—too quiet.
No nurses bustling around, no beeping monitors, no triage emergencies. Just the low hum of the lights and the sound of two people trying very hard not to give themselves away.
Bones still stood close.
Close enough that Y/N could feel the warmth radiating from him, close enough that his breath brushed their cheek when he exhaled.
“Well,” he murmured, voice low, “that’s the exam.”
But he didn’t back up.
Didn’t turn away.
Didn’t create space.
Y/N swallowed. “Are we… done?”
“Medically?” Bones said, eyes flicking from their lips to their eyes and back again. “Yeah.”
A beat.
“But I’m not sure I’m done… worryin’ about you.”
That landed like a spark.
“…I’m okay,” Y/N said softly.
Bones huffed a quiet laugh.
“Yeah, well. I’m still gonna worry.”
He reached out—not quite touching Y/N, but close enough that his hand hovered just over their shoulder. Not by accident. A deliberate question.
Y/N didn’t pull away.
Bones’ fingers finally settled there, warm and steady.
“You’ve been carryin’ all that alone,” he said, voice softening into something almost raw.
“God knows how long. You shouldn’t have had to.”
Y/N’s breath hitched.
“I didn’t want to… burden anyone.”
Bones’ brows pulled together.
“Darlin’, you tellin’ me who you are is not a burden. Not to me.”
The word darlin’ dropped between them like gravity.
Y/N felt their heart leap. Bones’ thumb brushed instinctively, soothing circles against fabric he probably didn’t even realize he was making.
Something unspoken passed between them, warm, fragile, undeniable.
“You always treat patients like this?” Y/N asked, trying for teasing but coming out breathy.
Bones smirked slightly.
“Only the ones I like.”
Y/N’s face heated instantly.
Bones noticed—of course he did—and that smirk softened into something gentler, something that looked suspiciously like he was trying not to fall deeper than he already had.
His hand slid from their shoulder down to their upper arm—slow, deliberate, careful.
“Hey,” he murmured, leaning in just a fraction. “Look at me.”
Y/N did.
And it felt like stepping off a cliff in the best possible way.
His voice dropped even lower.
“You don’t have to hide from me. Not your medical history. Not who you are. Not your fears. Not…” His breath caught. “…not anything.”
“Bones…” Y/N whispered.
He stepped closer, just half a step, but enough that their knees nearly brushed.
“If I’m crossin’ a line, tell me,” he said quietly.
“I’ll step back. No harm done.”
But Y/N didn’t tell him to move.
And Bones didn’t.
The air between them shifted, thickening, warming, settling into a slow-burning pull neither tried to fight.
For the first time since Y/N had stepped foot on the Enterprise, they didn’t feel watched.
They felt seen.
Bones’ eyes softened as he looked at them—really looked—and something in his expression broke open.
Tender.
Unshielded.
Hopeful.
“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he whispered. “Walkin’ around carryin’ all that weight and somehow still smilin’ at everyone.”
Y/N’s chest tightened in a way that wasn’t fear anymore.
“…Maybe it’s just easier to smile for other people.”
Bones’ hand moved on instinct, fingers brushing under Y/N’s jaw, tilting their chin up just slightly.
Not a grab.
Not even a hold.
Just a touch.
A question.
“Well,” he said, breath warm, “who smiles for you?”
Y/N’s breath trembled.
“I… don’t know.”
Bones’ thumb traced the smallest arc over their skin—so gentle it felt like a confession.
“Let me try.”
Nothing else existed for a moment.
Not Starfleet.
Not the ship.
Not the crew.
Just the doctor who wouldn’t step back—
—and the officer who didn’t want him to.
Bones’ fingers lingered under Y/N’s jaw, warm and steady, as if grounding them in place. He wasn’t pulling them in, wasn’t assuming anything, just holding them in that quiet gravity between breaths.
Y/N’s heart hammered.
Bones noticed. His touch softened even more. “Easy,” he murmured. “You’re alright.”
But his voice wasn’t steady. Not this time. There was a tremor in it—something vulnerable, something he wasn’t hiding anymore.
Y/N swallowed, eyes flicking down to his mouth for the briefest second.
Bones’ breath hitched.
“…Darlin’,” he whispered, the word falling out of him before he could stop it, “if you don’t want this, tell me now.”
Y/N didn’t speak.
They leaned—just a little.
Bones froze.
Not in fear. In restraint. Like he was forcing himself not to move an inch unless Y/N asked him to.
It was Y/N who closed that last sliver of distance.
Their lips brushed his—barely, softly, like a question written in the air.
Bones inhaled sharply, his fingers curling slightly at Y/N’s jaw as if surprised by how gentle the moment was. He didn’t pull them in, didn’t deepen the kiss. He just pressed back with the same feather-light tenderness they’d given him.
Warm.
Steady.
Real.
When they parted, barely an inch, Y/N could see him better than ever—eyes soft, lips parted, breath caught somewhere in his chest.
“…You sure about this?” Bones asked quietly, voice rough around the edges.
Y/N nodded, their forehead almost touching his. “Yeah,” they whispered. “Are you?”
Bones’ smile was small, crooked, unbearably warm.
“Hell,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss them again—this time still soft, but with a certainty that melted right through Y/N’s ribs—“I’ve been sure for a while.”
His hand slid to the side of their neck, thumb stroking the skin there in slow, comforting arcs as their lips moved together. Nothing rushed. Nothing demanding. Just the kind of kiss that felt like a promise whispered instead of spoken.
Eventually, he pulled away—barely a breath’s distance.
“You okay?” he asked, voice quiet, hands still holding them like something precious.
“Was that… alright?”
Y/N laughed softly, breath shaking from relief and affection.
“More than alright.”
Bones exhaled—relief, fondness, and a hint of that warmth he always tried to hide.
“Well,” he murmured, brushing the tip of his nose against theirs, “in that case… we can take this as slow as you want, darlin’. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
And he stayed close.
Close enough that Y/N could feel him smiling.