I wrote a fic kinda like this, but I want to hear your takes on it, so…
Headcanon discussion: Len is pissed that he went from his big house and nice things in Georgia to a small apartment in San Francisco. A bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a small sitting area. That’s what his life has been reduced to.
Jim is just thankful beyond words that he has a bed.
as someone who’s moved so much they have downsizing, expanding, and shuffling things around a new roommate down to a science (holy shit this got out of hand):
-if bones moves in first, it’s not until jim arrives that he realizes how much space all his stuff takes up. (and it’s not until he asks what space jim needs that he realizes how little jim has.) if jim moves first, it takes bones even longer to realize this, because even after downsizing he still has so much STUFF and he has to haul it all in and unpack it and he’s grumbling the entire time and it’s not until he opens the cupboard one day and sees jim’s only got the one set of dishes that he understands just how little the kid’s got.
-jim ends up getting a lot of things from bones secondhand. his pillow sucks and he can’t sleep properly? here, kid, i’ve got a couple extras. have this blanket too, i’m overheating in this godforsaken city. forgot to do laundry? here, you can borrow this shirt, it should fit. i need to get rid of some books, kid, you want any before i donate them? jim doesn’t even have to ask about using bone’s kitchen stuff, although he does for a long time. in the end, bones one day walks into jim’s room and realizes both how little there is in the space, and how much of it was once his. but at the same time, he’s never seen jim so comfortable in a space. it warms his heart to know he was able to do this for him, to help him turn a place that was made with mere survival in mind into a home.
-jim sometimes feels bad that he has so much of bones’s stuff, but every time he tries to give something back he’s met with an impassable wall of that sweet, southern, almost passive-aggressive charity. bones refuses to take anything back, both because he knows jim needs it and because he doesn’t want to clutter up his room any more than it already is.
-despite all the bitter memories, bones has trinkets and heirlooms all over the apartment. it just feels wrong to him to not have them. jim sometimes gets their stories out of him when they’re drunk.
-jim knows he’s not got a lot of stuff, but the sheer amount of cleaning supplies bones brings in actually catches him off guard. then again, the man is a doctor, so he knows better than anyone probably the risks of an unclean house. jim’s not gonna complain about being told for the thousandth to clean the damn counter after he cooks if it means he’s less likely to get sick.
-jim absolutely maximizes floorspace in his room, and there’s a clear path from the door and bed to the window. bones tells him to close it more often, especially as the weather gets colder, but jim has his reasons for keeping it open. mostly involving sam, and frank, and tarsus, and even his mom, somewhat. regardless, he’s not closing it, and bones learns to let it be unless the kid’s managed to contract pneumonia or something.
-at first, bones has to practically lure the kid out of his room. it’s like jim is scared to exist in the space full of bones’s stuff, like he doesn’t want to impose himself on his friend even though they share the damn apartment. later, bones learns that that’s exactly what it is.
-later, when they move into a slightly bigger apartment, jim teaches bones how to properly downsize. they still end up getting a little storage unit nearby, because bones still has that much stuff, but it’s better. and this time, jim takes up a bit more shelf space, and when they’re finally all settled in he flops himself down on the couch and plunks his feet on an old throw pillow of bones’s without a care in the world and the triumph bones feels in that moment is from a bit more than just a successful move.