Somehow, Leonard always felt more tired after a day without emergencies. Intellectually he knew why—paperwork had a habit of piling up, and piling up, and piling up, so when the emergencies eventually did abate he had to deal with a mountain of filing and note-taking and signature-making and just generalized depression and angst. By the time M’Benga had relieved him he’d been at it for a solid nine hours, working through lunch and ignoring the end-of-shift chime. His vision swam with the ghostly imprint of letters and numbers as he slogged his way back to his quarters.
Spock was already there when he arrived, sitting at the table intently studying a datapadd with a cup of tea cooling beside him. Leonard give him a kiss on the temple.
“What’re you working on?”
“I am studying in anticipation of our encounter tonight.”
Encounter was Spock’s euphemistic way of referring to sex. Leonard raised a brow at that. “What do you need to study for?”
“I take my devotion to you and to Jim quite seriously.”
“Hm. That’s sweet of you to say, but that doesn’t exactly answer the question.”
Spock looked contrite. “I am studying at the Captain’s direction.”
Leonard knew he wouldn’t get much more out of Spock, not once he passed the blame on to Jim. He ruffled Spock’s hair just to annoy him and set out in search of Jim.
He found him lounging on the bed in nothing but his silky pajama bottoms, one arm tucked behind his neck to emphasize the golden and gorgeous length of his torso, gaze warm and sultry—a typical Jim maneuver. As Leonard glared at him, Jim pouted and lifted one long, tan arm to beckon.
“Oh, Bones…I’m so cold. Won’t you come and keep me…warm?”
“No. Put a shirt on.”
Jim’s pout turned far more real, and a twitch of annoyance started in his eye. “C’mon, Bones. I’m trying to romance you here. Could you at least pretend to play along?”
Leonard rolled his eyes and stalked over, flopping down on the bed and making sure to elbow Jim a few times for his trouble before settling in. He let Jim wrap him in an octopus-like cuddle and begrudgingly began to run his hands along Jim’s spine just to hear him sigh in delight.
“You gonna tell me what’s going on?”
“Hmm?” Jim said innocently. “Why do you think there’s something going on?”
“Let’s see. You’ve got Spock in the other room studying for sex like he’s a cadet preparing for his placement exam, and you’re messing up the bedspread because you don’t know how to wear a damn shirt. Why would I not think something’s going on?”
“We just wanted to show you a nice time tonight, that’s all.”
“Don’t sound so suspicious.” Jim wiggled closer, resting his chin on Leonard’s shoulder. “We like you Bones.”
Jim began to rub his shoulders and Leonard relaxed into the contact. “Anyway,” Jim said. “Have I told you I have three ears?”
“What?” He tried to wiggle away but Jim’s octopus grasp was too strong. “The hell, Jim. Did you stumble into another batch of alien jelly? I told you to watch out for that!”
“No.” Jim was snickering against Leonard’s neck as he tried to get away. “It’s my left ear, my right ear, and my final front ear!”
Before Leonard could react to that little tidbit of—brilliance? Inanity? Horror?—something, Spock politely alerted them to his presence in the door frame.
“Leonard, Jim, I have finished my studies and am prepared to engage.”
“Oh, good.” Jim finally released Leonard and let him twist away. “We were just getting started.”
“Started with what?” Leonard asked, aghast.
“With kissing you.” Jim swooped in to deliver a series of rapid-fire kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his chin, and then up to his lips where he slowed down, letting skin slide against skin as Leonard relaxed against him.
“With touching you,” Spock said. Behind him, the bed dipped and Leonard felt Spock settle against his back, long and clever fingers tracing from hip to shoulder. Leonard—busy with an armful of Jim—could only relax further into Spock’s expert touches, to the feeling of Spock’s gentle lips against the back of his neck tracing a line up behind his ear and eliciting a shiver.
“With holding you close,” Jim murmured against his lips as Leonard felt himself sandwiched between them, arms and legs tangling, skin touching skin and making him crave more.
“With loving you,” Spock said, hands back on Leonard’s waist to toy with the hem of his shirt and gently work it up to give Jim access to the expanse of his stomach, his chest, his sides.
“And,” Jim whispered, so low that Leonard had to lean even closer, straining to hear, desperate for more of Jim’s touch and voice as fingers danced along Leonard’s ribs. “With tickling you!”
Leonard barked out an involuntary laugh, his body jack-knifing as he writhed under their combined assault. They had him good and pinned; Jim flailed wildly while Spock took a more methodical approach to finding his most ticklish spots as Leonard writhed and gasped for air between bursts of laughter.
He managed to wiggle upwards, out from in between them, but Spock caught him and hugged him close again as Jim relented, flattened his palms, and dissolved into fits of giggles.
“Dammit, Jim,” Leonard said again, trying to catch his breath now that the worst was over. Spock held him and began to lay apologetic kisses along the back of his neck.
“Why are you only cursing me, Bones?” Jim asked between snorting, unsexy guffaws. “What about Spock?”
Leonard glared down at him. “Spock, who’s idea was this?”
“It was the Captain’s,” Spock said simply, finding that spot on the back of Leonard’s neck that made him shiver and quake with pleasure and kissing it.
“I knew it,” Leonard said, closing his eyes in delight at the attention.
“Of course,” Spock continued. “I did provide some key tactical suggestions.”
“Damn you both,” Leonard said, too enamored with Spock’s attention to his neck to put any amount of vitriol in his words. His words were breathy, his skin tingling. “…Damn you.”
“I don’t think you really mean it,” Jim teased.
“Oh, I mean it.” Leonard’s eyes closed involuntarily as he submitted to Spock’s searching hands. “I don’t know why I put up with you.” He could feel Jim’s fingers sneaking up beneath the hem of his shirt again and he stiffened, worried about a repeated tickling. But Jim merely lifted the fabric and encouraged Leonard to raise his arms.
“I think you like us,” Jim teased, ducking down to trail kisses along Leonard’s sternum.
Spock took over the task of getting Leonard shirtless, and soon his top was a messy pile on the floor. “Indeed,” Spock said, nipping lightly on his bare shoulder. “Evidence would suggest that you enjoy our company far more than you verbally indicate.”
“Hmph,” Leonard grunted, trying to focus past the dual onslaught of Spock and Jim lavishing him with attention. “I don’t know…what…gave you that idea.”
Jim chuckled, the vibrations of his laughter close enough to buzz the surface of Leonard’s skin. He yearned closer to Jim’s mouth as Jim nibbled across his chest. Spock’s hands curled down over his stomach, fingertips softly brushing against the bones of his hips.
Leonard decided to get in on the action. He cupped Jim’s bottom and drew him closer, feeling Jim’s length against his thigh. Jim sighed at the contact and arched upwards as Leonard began fighting with the waistband of Jim’s pajamas. Jim had tied the string just a bit too tight, and the pajama bottoms wouldn’t slide easily off. Annoyed, Leonard tried to undo the knot as Spock distracted him by dipping those clever fingers down the front of his uniform trousers.
“We have more for you,” Spock said, his voice a low, deep purr.
“More what?” Leonard was too distracted, internally cursing the double knot that Jim had made on his pajamas.
“More kisses,” Jim said, demonstrating with the smooth glide of lips against Leonard’s jaw.
“Is this another trick to tickle me?” Leonard grumbled, opening one eye to level Jim with an accusatory squint.
“It is not,” Spock assured him, and opened the front of his trousers.
Leonard gasped as Spock’s hand closed around him, gently stroking him. Spock spooned against him and brushed his lips against Leonard’s ear.
“What do you do with an ill chemist, Leonard?” he whispered breathily.
“Uh…? I’m assuming the answer isn’t ‘run a scan?’”
“No,” Spock confirmed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “If you cannot helium, and you cannot curium, then you must barium.”
Leonard choked out a laugh. “Wh-what was that?”
“It was a joke, Leonard.”
“You call that a joke?” Jim groused. In one swift movement he shucked off his pajamas, threw them aside, and pulled Leonard’s leg over his hip, insinuating his bare body against Leonard’s rough trousers. “You’ve been researching all day and that’s the best you could come up with?”
“I have prepared several jokes if that did not meet with your exacting standards,” Spock said testily.
“I kind of liked it,” Leonard said, dazed, and Spock released him to let Jim take over.
“That’s because you’ve never heard a proper joke before.” Jim leaned close, sliding their erections together.
“Like the one about how many ears you have?”
“I’m ignoring that uninformed critique.” Jim squeezed, one broad, strong hand stroking them as the other reached around and began to fumble against Spock.
“I am capable of undressing myself,” Spock said.
Jim ignored him. “The past, present, and future walk into a bar,” he said quickly. “It was tense.”
Leonard had to force himself not to laugh. He hoped Jim would interpret his shudder as one of ecstasy and not humor as he suppressed his giggles and kept his mouth a thin, flat line. He didn’t want to give Jim any indication that these truly terrible jokes were being enjoyed.
“I, too, am capable of telling jokes about bars,” Spock said dryly. “For example, consider the neutron who entered the bar and ordered an alcoholic drink. He asked the bartender how much it would cost and the bartender replied, ‘For you? No charge.’”
“Not really a joke,” Leonard gasped. “More of a pun.”
“You don’t consider puns to be jokes?” Jim looked mildly panicked at the suggestion.
“By technical definition only puns which follow the specific structures regarding delivery and timing should be considered jokes,” Spock said.
Leonard tried to add something intelligent to the conversation but all that emerged was a breathy moan as Spock’s hot length slid between his legs. He clamped down to feel Spock slide between his thighs, warm and slick.
Hands—he didn’t know whose—traveled up and down his spine, dipping low over the curve of his bottom to slide his trousers down. Fingers mapped his hips, his bottom, and then down to his thighs, finally coming up wet with Spock’s slick before brushing over his hole inquiringly. He gasped again as those clever fingers slipped inside of him, opening him up, and Jim took advantage of his distraction.
“Bones, I have a question…”
“Hnn?” His eyes had fluttered back into his head. He rocked against the fingers inside of him, twitched under Jim’s grasp around his erection. “Jim, just a little harder…”
“Like this, Bones?” He squeezed, drawing his broad, warm palm along their twin lengths until Leonard was shuddering and groaning. Jim nipped at his neck. “But you haven’t let me ask my question.”
“Right, right, I’m listening…” He wasn’t. Not at all. His mind had been given over to the pleasures of his body.
“Why can you never trust atoms, Bones?”
“Because they make up everything!”
“Goddammnit, Jim,” Leonard groused, or tried to grouse; it sounded much more like a whine of pleasure than of annoyance. “You’re going to make me laugh.”
“That is indeed our intention, Leonard,” Spock said. “Your smile is quite agreeable to us.”
“I can feel him shaking, Spock.”
“Fascinating,” Spock said, and Leonard could clearly picture that damned eyebrow reaching upwards. “Is he attempting to contain his laughter? Or perhaps his shaking is induced by our erotic touching?”
“You could just ask ‘him’,” Leonard muttered. “It’s…definitely the second one…Jim’s ‘jokes’ aren’t worth a hill of beans.”
“I think he’s too distracted,” Jim said.
Jim released his grasp suddenly and Leonard whined at the lack of contact. “Jim!”
“Shh,” Jim whispered, kissing his neck apologetically. “We need you in the right mind set to appreciate our humor.”
“Such as it is,” Spock added.
More soft kisses against his neck, warm slick bodies melding into his, fingers twisting and finding all the pleasurable spots within him. If they were aiming to stop distracting him they were doing a poor job, and that thought did make him chuckle to himself.
“See?” Jim said. “It’s working already.”
“Like hell,” Leonard said, biting Jim’s chin.
“Perhaps you should enjoy this moment, Leonard,” Spock said. “How often does one get to hear jokes about elements?”
Before he could answer Jim cut in with a snorting laugh, “Periodically!”
“You shut that mouth,” Leonard said, and then kissed Jim hard. Jim laughed against his lips and pulled him close, working his tongue into Leonard’s mouth in a way that made Leonard see stars.
Unfortunately, Leonard had but one mouth to give to the cause of silencing his partners’ terrible jokes. Spock had taken to nibbling on his ear and sending sparks down his spine, but it was an excuse to whisper softly.
“Which books are the hardest to force yourself to read, Leonard?”
He had to snicker. He pulled away and buried his head against Jim’s shoulder. “S-stop you idiots.” The fingers within him slipped out and he groaned, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean stop that.”
But he was blessed by the feeling of Spock’s heat against him, the angular tip of his cock searching. Leonard sighed and relaxed, arching back as Spock slipped just the tip inside.
“Is this acceptable, Leonard?”
“You’d better hurry the hell up or I’ll show you unacceptable.”
Jim giggled and his smart, broad hands pulled Leonard close by the hips, letting their erections slide together again. Leonard thrust against him and then back, letting Spock slide inside of him, feeling the full weight of Spock against his back, Spock’s heated body and soft skin, the shape of Spock’s lips against his neck. Spock began to thrust, the curve of him filling Leonard and pressing against that little node inside of him that made his fingers and toes tingle with pleasure.
“Hey, Bones,” Jim said between breathy gasps—all this activity was starting to get to him as well, Leonard noted, and Jim stumbled over the words of his latest joke. “If Spock has a cold is he an illien?”
Leonard groaned. “That’s the worst—ah! Th-that’s the worst one yet.”
“That should not be interpreted as incentive to devise more and more terrible jokes, Jim,” Spock said.
“You two are no fun.”
Leonard punished him with a pinch and a grope, gathering Jim’s erection into his hand and stroking up while his other hand found Jim’s balls and cupped them, twisting them this way and that oh-so-gently, but rough enough that Jim squirmed and cried out.
“Does it hurt?”
“N-no, but be careful.”
“Hmph.” But he did relax his grasp, stroking Jim more gently, more kindly, until Jim got the hint and began to stroke him as well, in time to Spock’s thrusts and it was fascinating (damn that word) how quickly the burn began to build once more in his belly, warm heat rising to his mouth and spilling out so that he had to kiss Jim again (and wished the he could kiss Spock too, wished that he could kiss them both).
Spock gripped his waist and pulled him back, flush against Spock’s hips. Spock nipped at his ear once more, tugging the lobe into his mouth and curling over him.
“Damnit, Spock,” Leonard managed. “Just-just a little more.”
Spock obliged, and Jim’s grip tightened, tugging them back together so that he could feel the heat of Jim’s body, the softness of his stomach. Spock had him pinned as he took him, and then he dropped Leonard’s ear from his mouth and murmured.
“Have you heard, Leonard, that entropy isn’t what it used to be?”
He came laughing, dazed, his vision black with pleasure and it was so ridiculous, such a terrible joke, really, but he couldn’t stop laughing and shuddering and moaning as Jim stroked him and he spilled over Jim’s stomach. Slick formed between them and Spock shifted, thrusting into him more seriously now.
“God…damn you both,” Leonard slurred against Jim’s body.
He felt hands in his hair and could hear the excitement in Jim’s breath as he stroked himself. “You know you love us.”
“Through no fault of my own.”
Jim laughed once, sharp. His come spilled out onto Leonard’s sleepy fingers. Leonard tried to nurse him through the orgasm but his exhaustion was absolute. It was Spock who reached around and ran his fingers through the slick, sullying himself, gently stroking Jim until his hips bucked up and he whined.
Spock pressed his lips against Leonard’s neck and thrust fast and hard, pushing deep and rocking those sweet hips. Leonard was pressed fully against Jim and he felt arms around him, hands all over his body, and Spock thrust once more inside of him and gave a final push and Leonard could feel him shaking as he came. Pleasure filled him—physical and mental as Spock’s shield dropped for just a moment—and Leonard gasped at the joy of it.
Afterward the three lay tangled, and Leonard found it difficult to tell where his body ended and the others’ began. But he was content that way. Spock recovered first—as usual—and departed to retrieve a warm, wet cloth which he used to wipe up the evidence of their activities.
Jim was uncooperative. He wrapped his arms tightly around Leonard’s neck and held him close, hardly moving to allow Spock to wipe their stomachs.
“I didn’t even get to tell all my best jokes,” Jim said, pouting, once Spock had set the cloth aside and crawled back into bed with them.
“Truly a shame, Captain,” said Spock. “We shall have to indulge Leonard again in the future.”
“Y’all call this ‘indulging?’ And I would hate to see your idea of a good joke. No, no more terrible jokes and sex.”
Jim hummed and kissed his chin. He let out a sad sigh. “Fine. It’s clear that all our hard work doesn’t even matter to you.”
Leonard couldn’t resist. He affected his best drawl, letting the word fall like molasses. “Why, Jim. Don’t you know? Anything that doesn’t matter has no mass.”
Jim and Spock both blinked, surprised. Leonard tried to hold it back but he couldn’t as a warm glow built in his chest and burgeoned upwards into peals of laughter. As Leonard cackled to himself he pulled them in one by one—first Spock, then Jim—to kiss the shock off their faces. He wrapped the blanket around the three of them, still feeling warm and content and, yes, happy. Not that he would let them know it.