Favourite bits: Out of the corner of his eye, McCoy sees him twist his fingers. If it were anyone else in the world - anyone else in the galaxy - McCoy would call it a nervous gesture.
and
To his surprise, Spock says, “I cannot.” He turns and catches McCoy’s hands between his warm palms. The sudden and unexpected contact sends a jolt through McCoy. He doesn’t look up, but focuses on the long, elegant fingers resting against his own.
Spock ships have made me really focused on hands, so I reacted as if Spock had grabbed his face and laid one on him.
McCoy tries and fails to gather sufficient air into his lungs. “Was gonna talk to you about that,” he mutters. “When you felt more like yourself. When the Earth wasn’t in danger. I’m not sure what we are now. There’s that line, ’Til death do us part. But it didn’t. So I’m not sure what that makes us.”
“I do not know either,” Spock says, frank and honest.
“Probably isn’t any precedence. Outside science fiction and fantasy.”
Talk about going where no one has gone before.
Spock lifts one hand and lets it rest against the side of McCoy’s neck. Their eyes meet for the first time; Spock’s crinkle slightly at the corners. + McCoy threads their fingers and turns so he can lean against Spock. The hand on his neck drops to his shoulder, and then Spock has him in a loose, one-armed embrace. Sighing, McCoy lets his eyes close; he can still feel the last rays of daylight against his lids.
= hnnnnnnnnnng alrgjakrghakhtrbakntbae
I love Spock saying "our apartment". It contrasts icely with McCoy stumbling over it before. :D
“Indeed. That would be most inconvenient.”
“Which? Me getting thrown in prison, or you not getting to visit me there?”
XD
Thank you for writing such a wonderful fic! It's better than anything I could've anticipated. ♥ ♥
Favourite bits:
Out of the corner of his eye, McCoy sees him twist his fingers. If it were anyone else in the world - anyone else in the galaxy - McCoy would call it a nervous gesture.
and
To his surprise, Spock says, “I cannot.” He turns and catches McCoy’s hands between his warm palms. The sudden and unexpected contact sends a jolt through McCoy. He doesn’t look up, but focuses on the long, elegant fingers resting against his own.
Spock ships have made me really focused on hands, so I reacted as if Spock had grabbed his face and laid one on him.
McCoy tries and fails to gather sufficient air into his lungs. “Was gonna talk to you about that,” he mutters. “When you felt more like yourself. When the Earth wasn’t in danger. I’m not sure what we are now. There’s that line, ’Til death do us part. But it didn’t. So I’m not sure what that makes us.”
“I do not know either,” Spock says, frank and honest.
“Probably isn’t any precedence. Outside science fiction and fantasy.”
Talk about going where no one has gone before.
Spock lifts one hand and lets it rest against the side of McCoy’s neck. Their eyes meet for the first time; Spock’s crinkle slightly at the corners.
+
McCoy threads their fingers and turns so he can lean against Spock. The hand on his neck drops to his shoulder, and then Spock has him in a loose, one-armed embrace. Sighing, McCoy lets his eyes close; he can still feel the last rays of daylight against his lids.
= hnnnnnnnnnng alrgjakrghakhtrbakntbae
I love Spock saying "our apartment". It contrasts icely with McCoy stumbling over it before. :D
“Indeed. That would be most inconvenient.”
“Which? Me getting thrown in prison, or you not getting to visit me there?”
XD
Thank you for writing such a wonderful fic! It's better than anything I could've anticipated. ♥ ♥
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I'm so glad you liked this!!
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