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The past few months of consultations, commemorations, and hearings made Leonard's life a living hell. The Admiralty and the press were pushing the Enterprise crew's buttons trying to get their opinions on "losing the most distinguished captain in the 'fleet since George Kirk" and it's driving Leonard so far up the wall that he's ready to break a jaw if someone so much as looks at him funny.
It's breaking Leonard down bit by agonizing bit, and poor Montgomery has to watch it.
Since Jim's foolhardy and untimely death ("there's no use in sugar-coating it," in Leonard's words), he and Leonard have been attached at the hip, spending most nights drinking and lamenting over the loss of their friend. Sure, it was an unhealthy coping mechanism, but they'll be damned if they'll let anyone try to stop them.
It's taken longer than anticipated for a new captain to be assigned the Enterprise; Leonard vaguely wonders if it's because no one wants to be faced with Jim Kirk's legacy.
Selfish bastards.
In the meantime, the crew were assigned designated living quarters at Starfleet HQ, where they would live until the Enterprise had a captain again.
Leonard still isn't holding out any hope.
Leonard and Scotty were rooming together, thankfully. (Not that Leonard had a problem if it was anyone else. It's just more convenient this way.)
They're sharing a bottle of Scotch on the couch; it's half empty and describes Leonard's view on life at present. Oh, the irony.
They have a holovid in front of them of some ancient film playing, though, they both stopped paying attention to it after the first bottle, their minds and hearts clearly on something else entirely. Both are wondering about how their friend is doing and think that the bottom of a bottle is the best place to be.
Scotty begins to mumble something when the film ends.
"You say somethin', Monty?"
"We're gonna need more Scotch."
Leonard grunts his approval, watching his friend as he goes to collect another bottle: the second of the night. They've been testing their theories regarding alcohol poisoning, but the only thing that they've managed to conclude from their innumerable drinking nights was that they can handle almost two and a half bottles before they pass out.
Scotty returns after a moment and finds Leonard sprawled out on the couch, taking up a majority of it. Scotty makes a noise of protest. "I'll sit on yeh if yeh don't move."
Leonard stays, only grunting in response. The sleepless nights and excessive drinking are exhausting him like no other.
With a defeated sigh, Scotty swats at Leonard's head until he sits up, situating himself on the couch while Leonard makes himself comfortable on Scotty's lap. "You're warm, Monty."
"And you're drunk."
"So're you."
They lapse into a content silence, the only sounds being that of the busy city streets. It's relaxing, Scotty thinks, to just sit down and listen, enjoying the weight of Leonard's head against his thigh. The poor sap. If anything, the good doctor has had the most trouble when it came to the press. They would constantly throw all the "what ifs" their twisted minds could come up with: "What if you could have saved him?" or "what if you could be in his place?" It was, to out it mildly, overwhelming.
Scotty took a swig from the bottle, eyebrows furrowing when Leonard started squirming. "Somethin' wrong, Len?"
"Monty."
"Yeah, Len?"
The response was muffled against Scotty's hip. "Len, yeh gotta speak up."
"Love you, Monty."
It takes his alcohol-addled mind a moment to process it, and when he does, Scotty snorts in disbelief.
"Yeh don't mean that."
"Yeah, I do." Leonard gets up, then, getting in Scotty's face. Something in his eyes makes Scotty flinch. There's an intensity and a fire that hasn't been there in months and it catches him off-guard.
Leonard continues without giving Scotty a chance to speak. "I do. A lot. 'M not sayin' it 'cause 'm drunk, either."
Scotty sighs, setting the bottle on the floor and grabbing Leonard's shoulders. "Let's get yeh to bed, aye? C'mon. Up yeh get."
"Monty—"
Before Scotty can stand, Leonard grabs his face in his hands and kisses him.
Okay, so maybe he misses the mark by a few centimeters, but the intention is more than clear. Leonard tries with his might to pour all his desperation into it, his adoration, his love because damn, how could have missed that? And leave it to Leonard to be drunk to finally put a name to what he’s been experiencing.
Scotty’s tense. His head is swimming and he’s positive it’s not all because of the alcohol.
Leonard places kisses along his jaw, his cheeks, gradually getting him to relax.
Leonard places a gentle kiss to his nose before looking him in the eye. “I mean it. I really do.”
There’s a brief moment of silence that passes, broken only by the faint chuckling from Scotty. “Alright, then. I believe yeh.”
A smile tugs at Leonard’s lips and Scotty finds it absolutely perfect; it’s like a supernova, he thinks.
Idly he wonders if this marks the beginning of the long-overdue healing process and mentally decides that, if it is, he’s going to be the one to help spur it along.