Chapter 1: The Wanting
“When you get into a fight with a Klingon’s fist, you’re supposed to duck. You should have heard them coming or are those pointy ears just for show?”
Spock clutched at the edge of the biobed, his fingers making small imprints in the metal. His face was outwardly calm, but his breathing was deep and intense.
Leonard McCoy smirked to himself as he ran the dermal regenerator over the other man’s injuries. He loved getting a reaction out of the Vulcan because each one revealed just a little bit more about the tight-lipped First Officer.
He made a mental note to check the strength ratings for the biobed. It might give him a more accurate idea of just how many pounds per square inch the Vulcan could exert with his hands.
The doctor suppressed a shiver. He knew Vulcans were strong but no one knew just how strong. He knew Spock could easily hold him down but how difficult would it be? How much pressure would be applied? How much force could he exert on a human body before breaking bone?
“Doctor, how long will I have to remain here?” Spock asked. Leonard had trained himself to hear every slight variation in the Vulcan’s speaking tone and his voice was tight. Spock was irritated, ready to snap at any moment.
“Once I finish up, you’ll be good to go,” McCoy said.
The regenerator sealed up the cuts along the green skin, leaving it smooth and unblemished. Leonard took extra care in this, wanting to leave no marks. If he didn’t get to mark the Vulcan no one would.
McCoy moved to the front where there was a large gash right on the forehead. It was ugly, but not life threatening. Spock had sustained that particular injury shoving McCoy out of the way of an angry Klingon.
Leonard could have dodged the attack with ease but preferred to force Spock’s hand. The Vulcan’s loyalty was to the ship and making sure it ran with perfect efficiency. Being down one CMO would be disastrous. So with more glee than he should have felt, McCoy would do things just that tad bit off to put himself in danger.
Spock would then be forced to go out of his way to assist Leonard and injure himself in the process. Some would assume that this was the CMO’s backhanded attempt at assassination, but it was much simpler than that. When the Vulcan was hurt he had to go to sickbay. It was much too difficult to observe Spock in his natural habitat so Leonard chose to make do. Rather ingenious, he thought.
As he treated the cut, Leonard allowed himself to assess Spock from the corner of his eye. Everything else looked good, he’d be done once this cut was healed. The dark eyes were angry but controlled, the dark goatee neatly trimmed and his mouth pressed tight. Speaking of mouth, his lips were their natural color today. Normally Spock wore a light pink lip color to make his crewmates more comfortable, mostly because in humans green lips indicated sickness.
Leonard preferred the green but he wasn’t going to tell Spock that. The forehead healed he said, “Forget your lipstick today, Spock?”
That earned an actual snarl from the Vulcan and Spock pushed himself to his feet.
“Bones, cut it out.”
Spock and McCoy turned to face their commanding officer. Captain James Kirk watched them with disapproval.
“Sorry, Jim.” Leonard felt the Vulcan stiffen at his side. That was a sore point with Spock, the fact that McCoy was a close personal friend of the captain’s. They weren’t screwing, despite what the rumor mill said, but they were highly invested in the other’s safety.
McCoy was certain the Spock was still bitter over Jim beating the Kobayashi Maru and the fact he got away with it. To add insult to injury, they made the man captain after the Nero incident. Spock also seemed to be exacerbated by the rumors surrounding the captain and CMO.
One day he had approached Leonard in sickbay. “You and the captain are not engaging in intercourse.”
“Nope,” Leonard had replied.
“Then why do you allow the rumors to persist?”
McCoy had raised an eyebrow. “We’ve neither confirmed nor denied the rumors. Besides, it’s better to hear the minions gossip than hear them plotting mutiny.” He had turned away to dismiss the Vulcan but Spock continued to stand there stiff as a statue. So Leonard had done what he always did, he tormented the man.
“If you want Kirk you’re out of luck. He’s already filled out ‘green’ on his alien sex bingo card.”
The Vulcan had stormed out of his sickbay, carrying the tatters of his offended dignity with him. The doctor could not resist calling after him, “But the ‘unemotional bastard’ slot might still be open.”
Pissing Spock off on a regular basis would be suicidal for most, but as Leonard was CMO and Kirk’s friend he could get away with a lot. He acknowledged to himself that his behavior was juvenile and beneath him but it was better than not having Spock’s attention at all.
No matter how interesting McCoy found the man, Spock was still a Vulcan, cold, unemotional, asexual. He doubted that offering sex, strings attached or no, would get anything more than a raised eyebrow and a snort of disgust. The man had all the libido of a chickpea.
So Leonard found himself content to observe the Vulcan and jot down his idiosyncrasies. At the end of the day he would add these new facts to the PADDs hidden in a safe in his room. The PADDs contained everything from minutiae to highly technical information Starfleet Medical would kill to get their hands on. He would then read his new discoveries while imagining the softness of Spock’s skin, the roughness of his tongue and the strength of his hands.
Sometimes the wanting was better than the having. Reality too often got in the way of happiness. Jocelyn had taught him that. If he had just kept his distance he wouldn’t have married her. If he hadn’t married her, Leonard would never have found out about Clay Treadway. If he had never found out about Clay Treadway, he never would have slit her throat.
He was in Starfleet for a reason after all.
Leonard turned to the Vulcan. “You’re free to go. You don’t have to worry about light duty, your green blood will take care of any internal injuries.”
Spock nodded to Kirk with respect. “Captain.” He growled under his throat, “Doctor,” then took his leave.
The second he was out of earshot, Kirk shook his head. “You’re going to push him too far one of these days, Bones. You need to cool it.”
McCoy scoffed. “He’s a computer, Jim. He doesn’t feel a thing.”
Goddamn Vians. The planet was supposed to be uninhabited. The planet was supposed to be safe. Instead, they met a pair of sadistic fucks who were supposed to be teaching another alien a lesson. A lesson about what, McCoy wasn’t sure. All he knew was that the “lessons” apparently consisted of torturing people to death.
The alien, or “Gem” as McCoy had dubbed her, was hardly a child, but she had a wide-eyed innocence about her that was almost painful. Although he considered himself a sadistic bastard, Leonard found the idea of these aliens keeping someone like her prisoner disgusting.
It was obvious that they were forcing her to watch others being tortured, but for what purpose, McCoy didn’t want to know. He served in the Empire and knew of some of the upper echelons’ strange proclivities, but knowing about it and seeing it happen were two different things. He never understood why anyone would take pleasure in the destruction of innocence.
The landing party had attempted to escape the Vians’ clutches only to be recaptured. Kirk and Gem were gone, leaving him alone with Spock. The two officers stayed in perfect silence on opposite sides of the room, trying to take readings or find an avenue for escape.
After almost an hour, Spock finally announced: “I am unable to lock in on the previous readings.”
Under other circumstances, McCoy would have made some scathing remark, but right now the situation was too dire. “I didn’t think you would. This place likes to change things around.”
Spock’s brow furrowed just a fraction, anyone else wouldn’t have noticed. “Indeed.”
McCoy couldn’t decipher the expression. He made a mental note of the subtle shifts in the Vulcan’s face and went back to his tricorder. It was strange how no two readings seemed to match up--
“I am worried about the captain.”
Leonard jumped. The voice had come from right next to him. The Vulcan was practically on top of him. How the hell had Spock been so quiet? “Christ Spock, do I need to put a bell on you?”
The Vulcan ignored the comment. “What do you speculate his chances are for survival?”
Hazel eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why? Looking for a vacancy at the top?”
“Hardly,” Spock answered. “I merely theorize that our own chances for survival increase exponentially if the captain is alive.”
“Nice to know where your priorities lie,” McCoy said, voice droll.
“I only meant—“
Leonard stopped listening. The Vulcan was right there, and they were almost touching. The body heat coming off of Spock was intense, almost burning. His face was a mask of cool detachment but his body was tense. His lips carefully formed each word, entrancing in their strange grace. Then Leonard noticed the smell.
God, Spock smelled good. He smelled like spice and fire, like passion and other terribly poetic things that Leonard’s brain could not wrap around. Leonard was going to do something stupid if he didn’t get away.
McCoy shoved at the Vulcan. “Jesus Spock, find some other place to stand. You’re too damn close.”
Spock did not move. Although Leonard was a fit man, Spock was a Vulcan and when Vulcans did not want to be moved, they did not want to be moved. “You insist on antagonizing me. Why?” Spock asked.
Unbelievable. Leonard crossed his arms, closing himself off. “Do you really want to hash this out right now?”
“Doctor,” Spock said, as if explaining to a child, “we may very well die here.”
Leonard scowled at the reminder. “Then I don’t owe you a goddamn thing.”
Before their argument could escalate, there was a flash of light. In the center of the cell appeared Kirk and Gem. The woman was physically unharmed but her face was a grimace of horror. Kirk was flat on his face, moaning in agony. He struggled to get his feet underneath him to stand. “Jim!” McCoy cried out.
Conversation forgotten, Leonard and Spock rushed forward only to be caught in a force field. McCoy smacked his hands against it, knowing it was useless. The field was too strong. He shouted, “What did they do to you, Jim?”
Kirk couldn’t hear him; he was too out of it. Blood and bruises filled McCoy’s vision. There had to be more under the surface, but he couldn’t see it from this distance. He needed to see if there was internal damage. He had to get out of there; he had to save Jim. “Captain!”
“Doctor, I’m not certain he can hear us,” Spock said.
“Shut up, hobgoblin.” He took no pleasure in the Vulcan’s flinch; he was too focused on his injured captain. McCoy looked up from Kirk’s prone form to see Gem watching them with her wide dark eyes. He got an idea. Earlier, Kirk had been cut and the woman had healed him with some strange power. Perhaps she could heal him again. “Help him,” Leonard pleaded.
Gem moved toward Kirk, placing her hands on him. She shuddered and pulled herself away.
“Don’t be afraid to help him,” Leonard said. He put all his charm and sincerity into the words. Gem may be a living miracle, but she was also skittish and afraid. McCoy couldn’t bring himself to be frustrated with her. She was so much like—
He put a firm clamp down on the thought and concentrated on the present. Leonard could feel Spock’s piercing gaze on him, but he didn’t care. He needed Gem to do as he asked. “Please, Gem.”
Still visibly afraid, she nodded her head and once again placed her hands on the captain. She moved them over his body, sweeping over the hurts and aches. Gem’s touch was not a caress, but was not completely impersonal either. As McCoy watched, the injuries on Jim’s body appeared on the woman. She closed her eyes as if in pain.
She was getting scared again. “It’s all right, sweetheart,” Leonard drawled. “You’re doing fine.” Gem’s face flushed a pretty shade of pink and her lips curved into a small smile. Good, she responded well to encouragement.
Spock’s voice was full of disdain as he said, “Dr. McCoy, is that really necessary?”
McCoy growled and glared at the Vulcan. “Just because you’re useless right now doesn’t mean I have to be. So unless you can get us out of this force field you can shut your goddamn mouth.”
Gem flinched as if she had been struck. Damn it. If she was a strong enough empath she might be feeling everything in the room. “We’re not fighting, Gem,” McCoy reassured her. “Just keep going.”
Gem’s shoulders relaxed and the tension left her face. The bruises on her body disappeared. The force field fell and so did Gem.
McCoy rushed to the woman and caught her before she hit the ground. With more gentleness than he had used in years, he set her down and brushed the hair from her face. “You did good, Gem. Now get some rest.”
The mute woman smiled and closed her eyes. She fell into a deep sleep. McCoy looked up to find Spock standing over him, shoulders back, face pinched.
“You are most concerned with the Empath’s welfare.” If Leonard didn’t know better, he would have said that the Vulcan sounded pissy.
“She reminds me of a girl I once knew,” McCoy replied. At Spock’s sneer, he growled. “Not like that, you filthy pervert. Reminds me of my cousin. She was a nice girl.” The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. “Her husband killed her and then I killed him.” That was all he was going to say on the matter.
Jim groaned as he came back around. Grateful for the distraction, Leonard pushed his way past Spock to the captain. “What happened?” Kirk asked.
“The Vians tortured you.” Leonard whipped out his medical tricorder and waved it over the captain. “How do you feel?”
“Tired,” Kirk confessed. He raised his head. “Where’s Gem?”
“She is currently recuperating,” Spock said.
Jim nodded. “I could feel her weakening as she healed me. Do you think that this healing thing could kill her?”
McCoy looked up from the readings. He hadn’t thought about that, but it made a lot of sense. “Maybe,” he said. “Hopefully her self-preservation instinct would kick in before that happened.”
“Her death would be a great loss to the Empire,” Spock said.
Kirk harrumphed. He wasn’t that concerned; he had more important things on his mind. “We need to kill those Vian fuckers.”
“You’re not killing anyone in your condition,” McCoy said. “You’ve got nitrogen bubbles in your blood. I don’t know how the hell you got the bends down here but you’ll be fine once we get you into a decompression chamber.”
“Which requires us getting back to the Enterprise,” Spock informed them.
Leonard rolled his eyes. “And does the walking computer have a plan for that?”
The Vulcan bristled then turned his attention to Kirk. “I noted that a light preceded you just before you were returned here from the Vians’ laboratory.”
Kirk nodded. “Go on.”
“I conclude that the light is an energy transfer point linking this device,” Spock held up a Vian wristband they had found earlier during their escape attempt, “to the power source.”
“That’s brilliant.” McCoy blurted it out before he could stop himself.
Thankfully, Kirk took it as the doctor’s usual sarcasm. “Bones,” he warned.
Leonard settled himself back into his usual posture of distain. “The question is can you do anything with it?”
Spock straightened his back. “I might be able to cause it to function for us, if I can discover the right frequency.”
“Will that get us out of here?” Kirk asked.
Spock answered, “Yes.”
“Then proceed,” Kirk ordered. He turned to McCoy. “How’s the girl?”
Leonard made his way back to Gem. Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled upon seeing the doctor. He fished out his tricorder and waved it over her. “She’s healthy as a horse.”
“Good, we’re taking her with us. She’s too useful to leave here,” Kirk said.
McCoy was pleased. He could study her on the ship and determine exactly how her power worked. If he could induce it artificially with a serum or some other method, it would be a terrific advancement in medicine. And if he played his cards right, she would never have to be hurt for others’ pleasure again.
The light appeared again, interrupting his thoughts. The two wrinkled, gray and bald bastards calling themselves the Vians materialized in the cell. One of them addressed Kirk.
“You are called ‘captain.’ You are responsible for the lives of your crew. Is this correct?” he asked.
Kirk narrowed his eyes. “It is.”
The second Vian spoke. “We find it necessary to have the cooperation of one of your men in our efforts.”
Kirk’s answer was succinct. “Fuck off.”
The Vians ignored the slur. “When we resume our interrogations, you will decide which of your men we shall use,” the first said. “There is an 87% chance that the doctor will die.”
McCoy felt Gem squeeze his arm in fear and heard a sharp intake of breath from behind him.
“And while Commander Spock’s life is not in danger,” the Vian continued, “The possibility is 93% that he will suffer brain damage, resulting in permanent insanity.”
Leonard’s stomach dropped. No, he couldn’t allow it. To have them destroy Spock’s mind was unimaginable. If they damaged the Vulcan’s body he could be repaired, but his mind? McCoy felt sick.
After the Vians left, the Enterprise officers spent the next few hours working on the device. Or rather, Spock worked on the device while McCoy soothed Gem. Kirk spent his time pacing like a trapped animal testing the bars of its cage.
“How’s it coming, Spock?” Kirk asked, irritation running high.
“I do not know,” Spock responded. “I have a basic grasp of its operating principles, but that’s all.”
McCoy left Gem sitting on the platform and he stalked over to the Vulcan. “Spock, it won’t be long before the Vians come back. You better get that damn thing working.”
“Trust me, doctor,” Spock said, not looking up. “I have no desire for insanity.”
“At least you can desire something,” McCoy snapped.
Kirk grabbed Leonard’s shoulder and squeezed. Hard. “Bones! That’s enough!”
McCoy shook him off. He didn’t want to be restrained. He was scared and angry and he had every right to feel that way. “Damn it, Jim. Once the Vians comes back one of us is going to die.”
Spock, on the other hand, sounded calm and collected as always. There were days when Leonard hated him for it. “Not necessarily. They did say my life was not in danger.”
Leonard scoffed. “Bullshit. These Vians may be smart, but they don’t know everything about us. There’s a damn good chance that they didn’t take Spock’s freak biology into consideration.”
Spock scowled at the insult. “Doctor, there is no need—“
McCoy was not going to be interrupted. “Shut up.” He addressed Kirk but pointed at the Vulcan. “We have no goddamn clue what those machines could do to him.”
“Dr. McCoy,” Spock said, “they only said that you might die.”
And wasn’t that a bitch. But Leonard wasn’t giving up. “They also said you’d get brain damage.”
“We have healers on Vulcan,” Spock explained.
Leonard sneered. Spock had no clue what the Empire would do to him. “Do you honestly think Starfleet gives a damn?” he said. “Do you think that they’d spare the time and money to get your ass back home to perform some Vulcan voodoo they don’t understand? No, they’ll just leave you to rot on some backwoods colony with your brain leaking out of your ears.”
Spock flushed green with anger. He rose to his feet, crowding the doctor. “I am a valued officer in Starfleet—“
Good, Leonard was finally getting through to that analytical brain. He shoved a finger at Spock’s chest. “You are now, but you won’t be if you’re drooling and asking for pudding cups.”
Kirk grabbed his CMO and separated him from the enraged Vulcan. “Bones!”
McCoy jerked out of Kirk’s grasp. “Tell him, Captain! Tell him what they do to the mentally incompetent. Tell him how the Empire treats the insane!”
“Dr. McCoy!” If Jim was using his title then the captain was pissed. McCoy kept his mouth shut. “The decision is mine. I get to choose, not you,” Kirk said. “And I already know my choice.”
Spock asked, “May I inquire as to what it is?”
Leonard could already tell by the set of Jim’s jaw exactly what he had decided. “Don’t you dare,” he warned.
“The Vians think that they broke me, Bones,” Kirk said. “I can’t let them think that.”
McCoy felt a surge of anger. He knew that Kirk had issues but this was fucking ridiculous. There was no way that Leonard would allow Jim’s ego to get him killed.
They had met at the Academy and became fast friends. Jim and Leonard were both geniuses in their respective fields and had no reason to compete. For both of them, it was the first time they could count on someone else without ulterior motives. After that first semester, they swore that they would do everything they could to protect the other.
McCoy patched Kirk up after fights and kept him healthy while Kirk dispatched any of the predators that had circled Leonard looking for blood or sex. It had worked out well for them, even after their assignment to the Enterprise. Now it looked like their friendship was coming to an end.
Leonard had no interest in dying, but he had sworn an oath. As his captain continued to rant, he opened his medical bag and palmed a hypospray. When Kirk turned his back, he acted.
“Damn it, I don’t need anything!” Kirk yelled, grabbing his neck.
“I’m still Chief Medical Officer and you’re suffering from the bends,” McCoy said. He pushed Kirk down onto the cushioned platform. “Relax, Jim.”
Jim tried to resist but succumbed to the sedative. “The decision’s out of your hands, Captain,” McCoy said.
A moment later, Spock came to stand by Leonard’s shoulder. The Vulcan asked, “How long will he be unconscious?”
“Excellent,” Spock said, “you have simplified the situation considerably.”
Leonard narrowed his eyes. “How?”
The Vulcan seemed much too pleased. “While the captain is asleep, I am in command.”
Leonard knew that Spock had no interest real interest in command. He enjoyed the power that came with being an executive officer but did not begrudge Jim’s responsibilities. Even if he still had problems with Jim being captain, Spock would never act on it. So what could he possibly mean? “And what is it that you command?” Leonard asked.
“When the Vians return, I shall go with them,” Spock announced.
“No!” Leonard shouted. “I’m the lowest ranking officer here, I should go.”
“And I am the highest ranking officer still conscious,” Spock reminded him. “My decision is final.”
Shit. Spock was completely within his authority to walk himself straight into the Vians’ torture machines. Leonard’s medical authority only went so far and if he pushed it then the Vulcan might just nerve pinch him.
“I will continue to calibrate the device. If I fail to do so before the Vians return, there are notes so that you and the captain can finish the work,” Spock explained.
“I’m a doctor, not a mechanic,” McCoy snapped.
“Be that as it may, your objections no longer matter.”
Leonard clenched his hands into fists and stormed off to the opposite side of the room. Gem looked at him with pleading eyes. He waved her towards Spock. “Go bother that idiot for a while.”
She nodded, not taking offense at his words, and went to the Vulcan. Spock sat by the captain, working on the small machine. Gem knelt next to Spock, watching him with her dark eyes.
McCoy fingered the hypospray in his bag. He had just used it on the captain but did he really think that Spock, brilliant Spock would fall for the same trick? Leonard looked at the Vulcan.
He was hunched over, staring at the device. All his concentration was on the band of metal before him. Given enough time, Spock would figure it out. Then Spock and Kirk could escape to the Enterprise.
It was then that Leonard decided he had to trust Spock. The Vulcan had just proven that he was willing to die for Kirk. If that were true for all situations, then McCoy could leave his captain in the First Officer’s care. Leonard could still fulfill his oath; he would just have to do it through Spock.
With careful measured steps, he moved behind the Vulcan. Spock was beautiful in the dim light. His hair was black and sleek, and probably soft to the touch. Leonard would never find out. He would never know how sensitive the skin on that long neck was, nor how Spock would look flushed with arousal. There was much he would never know about Spock. But without Leonard’s intervention, the man before him would just be a hollow shell.
Leonard could not live with Spock being just a mindless zombie on some distant medical colony. It took only a moment to drive the hypospray into Spock’s neck. The Vulcan stood, stunned at the action. “My decision—“ he started to say, then collapsed.
Leonard put the hypospray back into his case, feeling Gem’s eyes on him. He said to her, “Yes, I know this is stupid. I know I shouldn’t do this, but sometimes loyalty trumps common sense.”
The Vians had impeccable timing. They announced their arrived with their usual flash of light. It was unnerving to think that they had probably been watching the whole time, waiting for their victims to make a decision.
McCoy focused his attention on Gem. He’d be dealing with the Vians soon enough. “You stay here with them,” he ordered, pointing to his unconscious superior officers. “They’ll take care of you. You understand?”
The Empath nodded, but her face was pained. She knew what was happening. She knew that Leonard was going to die.
One of the Vians waved his spindly arm at the doctor. “Come.”
Leonard left with them, disappearing into the light. He didn’t remember much after that, except for the screaming.
Chapter 2: The Having
He woke to the sensation of too warm hands cradling his face. He was lying down on some soft material. Judging by the way the bedding dipped, there were two bodies sitting near him. McCoy’s eyes blinked open to see Spock and Jim staring down at him. “What—“
“He’s awake, Captain,” Spock said. Were those his hands on his face? Was the Vulcan actually touching him
“Good,” Kirk replied.
The hands left as he saw Kirk push Spock out of the way. His captain held his shoulders in a death grip. His voice actually cracked as he said, “Don’t ever pull that shit with me again, Bones.” In his anger, Kirk started shaking the other man. “I’m in command. What you did could be considered insubordination. I could have you up for court-marshal, you stupid fuck!”
It felt like his head was splitting and his insides were jiggling back and forth. The smell of blood assaulted his nostrils. He felt cold and it was hard to breathe. Leonard just stared at his ranting captain. “I think I may throw up on you.”
Jim stopped shaking McCoy and just held him upright. He was trying his best to keep his command face in place but the man was obviously worried. “What’s wrong?”
“Just—“ Leonard blinked. Why was the light so bright? “Dizzy. Stomach’s—“ McCoy groaned, leaning forward to rest against Jim’s chest. It should have been embarrassing but Leonard was much too lightheaded to care.
“Shit.” Kirk glared up at Spock. “We need to beam up now.”
“I’ll have a medical team standing by,” Spock said. He flipped open his communicator.
Leonard tried to open his eyes but everything was spinning. He squeezed them closed again. “The Vians—“
“Dead,” Jim said.
McCoy was afraid to ask, “Gem?”
Jim ignored the question. “How long ‘till they can get a fix on us?” he asked Spock.
The Vulcan replied, “Any moment, Captain.”
“Good,” Kirk said.
“Gem?” McCoy asked again.
Again the question was ignored. “They are ready to beam us aboard,” Spock announced.
Kirk shifted Leonard in his arms, forcing him to stand. McCoy’s legs held steady for a second, before the vertigo hit. He swayed, unable to keep his balance. He was going to fall. Spock grabbed him with one arm and held him steady. “Energize,” Spock ordered into the communicator
As their molecules dissolved, Leonard forced himself to open his eyes. There on the dirty floor lay a body. It was covered in blood, bruises livid on the face and limbs. The dark eyes were wide and unseeing. Chapped lips were parted, no breath spilled from its lungs
The last thing Leonard heard before beaming up was Kirk saying, “Stupid bitch didn’t even finish healing him.”
The medical team was there as promised including Chapel and M’Benga. Spock and Kirk shoved him onto the gurney with little finesse. Christine made sure he was stable before the gurney took off. As he was raced back to sickbay, McCoy noticed that only Spock followed them. “Jim?” he asked.
“The Captain is needed back on the bridge. We must leave the area at once before the star supernovas,” Spock said.
Leonard nodded and instantly regretted it. His stomach rolled as it tried to crawl back out through his throat. They wheeled him into a private room where Dr. M’Benga supervised his examination.
The entire time they were running tests on him, Spock stood in the corner watching. It was damned unnerving seeing the stoic Vulcan just standing there. He made no commentary, asked no questions. He was as animate as a statue.
“This is strange,” M’Benga said.
“What is?” McCoy asked, curious about his condition.
“There is nothing physically wrong with you but your equilibrium’s completely off,” M’Benga explained.
“Tell me about it,” Leonard muttered. “Are you saying this is psychosomatic?"
“I can’t be sure until we run more tests,” M’Benga explained.
McCoy hated this. When there was a medical mystery on the Enterprise he was at the forefront trying to solve it. He was the one putting in overtime at the lab. Now he was the patient, forced to wait until they figured out what was wrong with him. The worst part was that he had no way to contribute to the solution.
Every time he stood up, the vertigo would lay him out flat and his legs would collapse. He had to fight the urge to vomit just from lifting his head too far. Leonard was in hell.
“Leave us,” Spock commanded. Everyone turned to stare at him. They had all forgotten that he was even in the room. “Continue to run your tests in the labs. I have to debrief Dr. McCoy.” The medical staff filed out of the room without argument. The door slid shut and the Vulcan relayed his access code to the computer, locking them in.
Shit. He was alone with Spock and he couldn’t even twitch without feeling vertigo. He was dead.
“You saved both my life and the captain’s. I owe you a debt of thanks,” Spock said.
“You don’t owe me anything, hobgoblin,” McCoy snapped. He tried to roll onto his side away from Spock but the dizziness hit again, making him almost fall off the bed. Too hot hands grabbed him and hauled him upright.
Leonard burped, willing the vomit to go back down his throat.
Once Spock was certain that McCoy was staying put, he let go. “As the Vians were interrupted during their torture, they did not disengage from your mind. I believe I can assist you with a Vulcan Mind Meld.”
No. He wouldn’t.
Leonard’s blood froze in fear. If Spock went into his mind he’d know. He’d know! “Fuck off!”
Spock grimaced, his teeth bared. “I would like to do nothing else. However, your performance as ship’s surgeon is currently impaired and will be for the foreseeable future unless you let me help you.
“No!” Leonard jerked away from the Vulcan, but he was too fast.
Spock climbed on top of the doctor, letting his weight crush the other man down. Leonard tried to kick the Vulcan off, but sharp knees pinned down his thighs. Spock’s left arm trapped Leonard’s chest to the biobed. The First Officer’s free hand grabbed onto the side of Leonard’s face.
He couldn’t move, not with a full-grown Vulcan on top of him. “No,” Leonard protested.
Spock’s voice was a calm intonation, not revealing the physical strain of holding the other man down. “My mind to your mind—“
“My thoughts to your thoughts.”
Rushing pulses of green invaded his mind. They were everywhere, searching, searching. Black-gray energy charges launched at the green but were beaten back. The green kept pushing forward, relentless as it overwhelmed the black and grey. As each charge disappeared, Leonard felt more in control of himself.
The green must be Spock, which meant that the Vians had left part of themselves behind. He hated it when Spock was right. The Vulcan was methodical, attacking each remnant of the Vians’ mental contact.
As the last of their influence faded, Leonard thought, I need to write down my observations about mind melding. I should record them with the “mental skills” notes.
McCoy froze up. Spock was still in his mind. What notes, Doctor?
Nothing. It’s nothing!
The green pushed its way forward, grasping onto the idea of “notes.” He tried to fight it but Spock was stronger. McCoy’s shields were already ragged from the Vians’ torture. He didn’t stand a chance. Random images and memories burst into McCoy’s mind.
The curvature of the ear is .4 centimeters less than that of the average Vulcan male. Ask Engineering to add cumin to the food slots’ plomeek soup recipe. Fingers, long, tapered, elegant, would write a sonnet to those fingers if I had the talent. The skin is smooth, oh so smooth. How does green skin taste? Salt, copper, or something else? Long, lean muscle under that smooth skin. How strong is he? He can bend metal. How would it feel to be held down by hands that can bend metal? Never seen his cock. I’ve seen the rest of him but not his cock. Goddamn retractable penis! Jesus, he has a nice ass, strong thighs, built for thrusting, built for moving, built for bottoming out and hitting that spot right there. God, right there. Need it more. Fingers not enough. Need more. More.
Get out! Get out! Get out!
There was a sensation like he was throwing a lead weight out of his head. McCoy came back to himself humiliated and terrified. God, the Vulcan was going to kill him now. He knew everything. He knew about the dreams, the stray thoughts, even the fucking PADDs hidden in his room.
He had to get out. He had to run. Leonard opened his eyes, his hands grabbing at Spock’s chest to push away. But the Vulcan wasn’t moving. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t letting him up. Oh god. Oh god.
Leonard opened his mouth to plead for mercy and froze at the expression on Spock’s face. It was unfamiliar, not anything he had meticulously catalogued before. The arch of the brow and the curve of the mouth were alien to him. It actually took him a full minute before he recognized it as a smile.
“Leonard,” Spock purred. Dark eyes drank him in like a starving man staring at his first real meal in months. The Vulcan used his knees to force Leonard’s thighs further apart. The doctor had never felt so exposed. “Using insults to sublimate desire, how fascinating.” The hand on Leonard’s temple moved down to cup his neck, a thumb swiping across his lip. “How long have you lusted for me, Leonard?”
McCoy found his voice cracking under the Vulcan’s heavy gaze. “Don’t call me that.”
“Leonard, I have been in your mind and will soon be in your body. It is only appropriate,” Spock insisted. The thumb prodded at his mouth, seeking entrance.
McCoy’s face flamed red as he whipped his head away. “Listen here you mind-raping motherfucker, I don’t care what you saw. They’re called ‘fantasies’ for a reason. They are never supposed to happen.”
“I am quite familiar with the concept.” The Vulcan gripped Leonard under the chin, forcing the older man to look him in the eye. “I have spent many nights stimulating myself to thoughts of your body. Of turning your hatred for me into lust.”
Spock’s free hand roamed down the front of McCoy’s body, resting at his groin. Leonard whimpered as the Vulcan’s clever fingers unfastened his pants. “I often contemplated invoking my officer’s prerogative to force you into my bed.”
The fabric slipped, down, down, half-hard cock bulging against the confining briefs. “I considered asking for you as a reward for my service.” A too hot hand slipped past the waistband to encircle him. Oh god.
Spock’s voice washed over him as the Vulcan stroked him to full hardness. “Of telling the captain I wanted nothing more than you naked and bound for my personal amusement.”
Leonard moaned as he thrust into the callused hand. The friction was amazing, his own precum helping slick the way. He titled his head back, eyes closed. This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. Not this easy. The hand squeezed. Jesus wept, he was going to come.
Then the Vulcan’s hand stopped. Leonard snarled in frustration. Spock just watched him with quiet amusement. “But I determined that I did not want you if I could not have you willing.” Spock yanked Leonard’s pants down, the fabric entangling his thighs. Greedy hot hands groped at his ass, prying apart the cheeks to play with the entrance to his body. “That no longer seems to be a problem.”
“Goddamn you.” Leonard’s fingers tightened on the Vulcan’s shoulders, leaving dark green bruises.
“Where is the lubricant, Leonard?” Spock asked, kissing his ear.
“Why? So you can fuck me?” Leonard snapped.
Goddamn it, how did he make monosyllabic responses so hot?
“Third drawer, hobgoblin,” McCoy panted. As Spock got up to find it, Leonard said, “And take off your pants. We’re not a pair of fucking teenagers. I’m not walking around with semen stains on my uniform.”
Moments later, as the Vulcan’s first trembling finger slipped inside, Leonard found he didn’t give two shits about his uniform. Spock was gentle, giving him time to adjust. The dark eyes stared with rapt attention at the single digit thrusting in and out. The reputation for Vulcan finger sensitivity was well-earned judging by Spock’s increased heart rate and quick breathing.
He clenched tight, reveling in Spock’s gasp. “Like that, don’t you, freak?”
Spock lunged forward, capturing his mouth. Leonard moaned into the invading tongue. The Vulcan’s cheeks were flushed as he pulled back.
“How long has it been since you have let anyone inside you?”
Leonard’s eyes narrowed. “None of your goddamn business you half-blooded—“ McCoy cried out as the second finger breached him. It was just as gentle as the first but it had been years since he had had anyone else touch him there. It felt good, much too good. He spread his thighs open wider, unaware that he was begging without words
“It is a matter of great interest,” Spock said. He removed his fingers to slick up his own organ. Leonard almost kicked him but stopped at the sight of the Vulcan’s fully engorged cock. Jesus, it was beautiful, long and thick with a flared ridge right under the head and another approximately half way down. Would those ridges be hard or soft? Would it be painful or just large enough for sensation?
“At the Academy?”
Was the hobgoblin still talking? Seriously? “No one. Kirk and I teamed up and scared all the fuckers off,” Leonard snarled.
“Excellent.” Spock stopped touching himself; the green cock glistened with lubricant, arching up as if searching for warmth. Leonard’s mouth watered. The Vulcan released McCoy’s hands only to grasp the older man’s hips. “I would hate to have to kill a fellow officer for tasting what is mine.”
McCoy’s backed arched as Spock slid in. God it hurt so good. Spock was enormous. He was being stretched and filled and this was so much better than jerking off.
Sweat plastered Spock’s hair into a mess, dark eyes glazed. The pink had worn off his lips, leaving them nice and green. He stretched his body over McCoy, pinning the surgeon’s wrists. He shifted his groin forward, fully seating himself in the doctor. His beard rasped against the side of Leonard’s neck as he breathed out one word: “Exquisite.”
Leonard barked out a harsh laugh. “Verbose motherfucker.”
Spock’s only response was to draw back before thrusting in with a forceful shove. McCoy’s head tipped back as he shouted. The Vulcan took this as a sign to start fucking in earnest. His cock pistoned in and out, slow, deep and steady. Leonard scrambled for more contact, his legs wrapping around the Vulcan’s waist and tugging him down.
They rocked together, finding a rhythm that left Leonard gasping. “This is not the last of this, Leonard.” Spock whispered. “I will summon you to my quarters every night and ejaculate in your ass or your mouth. I am the only one allowed to use you for pleasure.”
It was hard to answer with his ass getting reamed like there was no tomorrow. “If I refuse?”
Spock snarled, hips whipping forward to hit McCoy’s prostate. Leonard’s fingers grasped at the Vulcan’s back, leaving thin green marks. “Then I will seek you out and fuck you over the first surface I see.” Leonard’s insides fluttered at the unexpected possessiveness. He clenched tight. “You are mine, Leonard.”
Everything went white
Two days later, Spock sought McCoy in his office. The doctor was having a short conference with Chapel when the Vulcan walked in. “Excuse me, I must have a word with Dr. McCoy.”
Chapel excused herself and shut the door behind her. Leonard leaned back against his desk, arms crossed. “What can I do for you, Mr. Spock?”
Spock stood at attention, hands behind his back. “You were not at my quarters as requested at 2000 hours.”
“Well,” Leonard said, opening his legs wider, “maybe I thought I had better things to do than entertain a green-blooded narcissist.”
Spock stared at the silent offering. He licked his lips. “Perhaps this conversation would be better served on your knees?”
As hot, hard green cock slipped past his lips, Leonard grinned to himself. There were days when reality was a hell of a lot better than fantasy.