Of Great Price 4b
Part B
Rearing back, Spock flipped them, tumbling them body to hot body to pin his human beneath him on the bed. Seizing McCoy’s wrists, he stretched them out helplessly above the human’s head and pressed them securely to the sheet with one arm. Using his hips to splay the human’s thighs wide around him, he thrust deeply into the ready body, seating himself to the hilt. Beneath him, McCoy gasped and arched into the intrusion, writhing and pulling desperately against the hands that bound him to the bed. He bucked and fought but the Vulcan held him easily, plying his body with shallow thrusts, an undeniable reminder of who was now in control. Beneath him, McCoy’s meager strength began to flag, and he relaxed back onto the sheets, arms limp from exertion. Using his free hand, Spock grasped the human’s chin and pulled his head back, baring the column of his throat to his teeth and tongue. Worrying mercilessly at the tender skin, Spock growled, “You feel anger, Kafeh. I am failing to please you as you have pleased me. You do not want what I have offered you tonight.” Pulling his head back, he gazed piercingly into the human’s tense face. “Give me your thoughts, Kafeh, because you will it, not because I take them. Tell me what it is, this need of yours that you will not share.”
Beneath his hands, the human squirmed futilely. Rebellion and dissension were written into the very fabric of his being but underneath each revolt Spock detected a profound sense of relief. His kafeh might fight him, but Spock had long known that at his core McCoy found comfort and solace in his dominance. He had used this information for his own purposes, teased the doctor with it when is suited him, but he had never once asked why. Suddenly, he needed to know, needed to understand this loathed but paramount desire that afflicted his human. Cradling McCoy’s cheek, he forced the human to meet his eyes.
“Kafeh, will you continue to fight me? I told you once that I desired your compliance but that if you denied me I would simply take what is mine. And you remain mine. Is that what has prompted this emotional response. Do you seek to test my commitment?
An indignant spark ignited in the hazel eyes and Spock pounced upon it. “Ah, no, Kafeh, I can see that is not what troubles you. What, then? What is the source of your need to feel my power?
Beneath him, McCoy shut his eyes and attempted to pull away but Spock held him fast, thrusting sharply into the human’s and drawing a harsh gasp. Meeting his gaze with fury burning across his face, McCoy spit out across the bond, “You’ve made me an open book. Why are you even asking me? If you want answers, you can just go in my head and pull them out!”
Spock traced a finger idly down the bridge of the human’s nose. “This is true, Kafeh, but I tell you now that I will not do this. I believe that you wish me to know but do not desire to tell me. But you and I have circled around this fact since I first claimed you.
It is not just the knowledge that I want. I still desire your compliance. I desire the trust you have bestowed upon me. I desire the vulnerability necessary to speak difficult truths to me. So, no, my Kafeh, I will not take what I want. I will wait for you to give it willingly.”
Adjusting his hold on McCoy’s wrists, Spock settled the long lines of his body against that of the human’s but made no effort to move within him. Their eyes met and held, unyielding black orbs locking on unwavering hazel in a stalemate. Letting his free hand continue to trace the human’s facial features, Spock settled into the stare-off and waited as McCoy’s stalwart resistance began to crumble under his tender touch.
“Suppose I don’t tell you? What will you do? The look in the human’s eyes was almost accusatory. “Will you punish me? Are you going to stop me from treating patients?”
A spark of real anger flared in the Vulcan’s chest but he stifled it instantly. They were, he realized, fair questions. “Kafeh, I will not compel or coerce you. In this instance, if you choose to deny me, I will accept that. There will be no consequences to your decision.”
His tone was even and carried a soothing timber but the words themselves were the match to the long buried powder keg of his doctor’s emotions. Under a sudden surge of adrenaline, McCoy yanked one of his hands free and battered at the Vulcan’s shoulder and back. Spock watched the flailing arm, noting the ease with which he could capture it and pin it back down. It was instinctual, the need to seize and pin, but he stopped himself and pulled back instead, out and away from the struggling body beneath him. Resting back on his heels, he watched as McCoy scrambled back and away to press into the wall on the far side of their bed. Meeting the human’s eyes, Spock anticipated confusion and panic but his prickly kafeh managed to surprise him once again. The human met his gaze in a full on, audible rage.
“Don’t. Don’t do that. I said I trusted you because you never lied to me but dammit, you’re lying to me now. Don’t you dare pretend you’re doing this for me. You’ve spent three damn years pulling me apart and you know me. And maybe you haven’t let me run roughshod through your mind but let me tell you, I know you, too.
Here’s what I know. Everything you do is for you. You sit here and tell me you won’t go riffling through my head and pretend you’re doing me a favor? Bullshit! You know me and you know how much I hate to have to admit things to your face. But that doesn’t stop you from making me do it. So let’s not play games here. Every time I break down and admit something to you, that’s just another little piece of me you get to own. That’s what this is about, not trust or coercion, just you getting to own another little piece of me!”
The human’s face was flushed, his body tense and furious, but Spock was certain he’d never looked more enticing. His eyes had a wild, primitive glow to them and his fists were curled tightly, the muscles in his arms shaking with effort as he clutched the smooth material of the sheet. The plush lips Spock enjoyed so much were curling back from his teeth in an animalistic snarl. There wasn’t a trace of fear anywhere on the human, only the fury that rolled off of him in waves and lapped at Spock’s knees.
Cocking his head slightly, Spock eyed McCoy, turning the angry words over in his head as he assessed his prey from across the bed. Slowly, the human’s fingers began to uncurl as the reality of his tirade finally began to fracture. The rough aggression ebbed away as he considered the possible ramifications of his outburst. Curling in on himself defensively, McCoy stared down at the sheet, twisted from his grasp.
Now Spock could sense fear from the doctor, not for himself, of course, but for the patient’s under his care. A sharp sliver of annoyance shot through the Vulcan, but he realized the human’s concern was to be expected. He’d promised that McCoy would suffer no repercussions for choosing not to answer him but nothing had been said about explosive verbal attacks. McCoy’s resistance was usually so subtle. In fact, he had not graced Spock with his acid tongue since the bond had been implemented. It was inappropriate for a bonded kafeh to address his trensu with anything other than respect, but Spock could not deny the spark McCoy’s rancor raised within him. This was what he wanted, the indomitable spirit that had first attracted him to the human. The fierce determination that had made McCoy fight him every step of the way.
Humans and their emotions! How was he to rectify this with McCoy’s distress? The human wanted to fight, reveled in the fight, but under no circumstances did he want to win. He wanted push and to rebel but only as long as Spock eventually pinned him down and reasserted his control. Also, though he was quite aware of his strange need, McCoy desperately did not want to admit it aloud. If he, Spock, were to pull the knowledge from his head, that would be acceptable, but to be forced to admit it the Vulcan’s face would be devastating to his human.
Spock considered these revelations as he stared at the man across the bed. McCoy had not always needed this. Spock had not evidence to support his theory but deep seated instinct told him it was true. Something had happened to his kafeh that made him crave a domineering hand and Spock needed to know what it was. He found himself faced with discomfiting indecision. Should he enter the human’s mind and take the knowledge he craved. McCoy would prefer this, since it would require no admittance or responsibility on his part. Yet, even as his fingers twitched against his leg, desiring to meld, he found himself deciding no. What would bring temporary relief would ultimately lead to the destruction of everything he and the human had built between them. No, he would woo the information from his doctor, woo it with his own vulnerable declarations.
Casting a deceptively cold look at McCoy, he leaned forward on his hands and knees and stalked across the sheet.
“You are correct, Kafeh. Under Vulcan custom, you are mine in mind and body. I am fully within my rights to probe your every thought if I so choose. I do not have to ask, I am free to simply take but as you have noticed, I often choose not to. Instead I seek out ways to make you admit your secrets to me. I do this deliberately and I enjoy it.”
The human’s face twisted in miserable but helpless acceptance, squeezing his eyes shut, and Spock seized the opportunity. Lunging forward, he hooked an arm around McCoy’s waist and hauled him across the bed. The human slammed into him, losing his breath from the impact as Spock reached up and threaded a hand through the short, brown hair. He fisted the chestnut locks, using the handhold to bend McCoy to his lips. Then he captured the human’s mouth, plundering his lips, given a harsh yank to the brown hair when the human resisted. Beneath his greedy, seeking tongue, Spock felt capitulation as McCoy relaxed beneath him and began to respond. He immediately gentled his assault, plying the human’s tongue lightly and playfully as he released the fierce grip on McCoy’s hair and began to slowly massage the tense cords of his neck.
The fight was leaving McCoy, their kiss becoming heated as the doctor began to respond with enthusiasm, but Spock realized that simple surrender would not satisfy him, not tonight or any night after. The plan that had been slowly taking shape in the back of his mind suddenly crystallized into perfect clarity, morphing instantly from mere fancy to absolute necessity. It was ill-conceived and dangerous, and could easily result in his own death, but Spock found he simply did not care for even one hour of true companionship with this incredible creature would be well worth the sacrifice. First, however, he must secure his human’s willing compliance for there was no forcing a bond such as this.
Loosening his hold on McCoy’s waist, Spock pulled back slightly, breaking their kiss and meeting the human’s wary eyes. Stroking a hand lightly across his cheek, Spock pushed gently, into McCoy’s mind.
“Leonard?”
At the sound of his given name, real terror darkened the human’s face but Spock pressed a finger to the cool lips and continued. “Do not be alarmed.” His hand returned to McCoy’s neck and he felt the human’s tension begin to abate beneath his touch. “Leonard, I confess I do crave your secrets. I do enjoy your stubborn refusal and the sense of gratification I feel when you finally make an admission to me. But if you assume that I take some sort of malicious satisfaction in your pain, then you are wrong.
I take pleasure in your confessions because they allow me to fuel what I believe you would call a fantasy. It allows me to ignore the traditional confines of our relationship and imagine us as equal partners. Recently, I have pushed you more and more for these omissions and I realize now that my motivation is my own unwillingness to allow the fantasy to stay in my mind. I wish it to become the reality of our lives.”
Drawing back, he contemplated the human’s face. Leonard appeared shocked, he eyes wide and his lips pursed in amazement. Resting his hands on the Vulcan’s shoulders, he spoke in a panicked but carefully measured voice.
“What are you saying? Even talking about something like this could get you killed.”
Spock nearly smiled at his human’s concern. “I have considered the risk and I deem it acceptable.”
“Well, I don’t.” bellowed the human from inside his head. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a doctor. My job is to preserve life and that includes yours. Are you out of your Vulcan mind? What could you possibly hope to gain from this? Of all the illogical, ridiculous…”
McCoy’s mental tirade cut off abruptly as Spock raised a hand and tenderly stroked his face. “This, Leonard, is what I hope to gain from it. You’re honesty and temperament. I want you unafraid to speak your mind. I have observed you carefully these past three years and I realize that you require transparency and honesty above all things. It is true that I have not lied to your face but I have lied through omission many times.
I admit that there are risks to the bond. My kinsmen would most likely kill me if they discovered it. However, the likelihood of that is minimal. I am, after all, not in the habit of engaging in mind melds with random strangers and my shields are of sufficient strength that accidental physical contact would reveal little more than the expected bond between kafeh and trensu.”
“But you do meld with your father!”
“You are correct and he would be well within his rights to demand my life and your service if he discovered it. However, my father is not in the habit of scouring through my mind, even during a meld. I also believe that, were he to discover the bond, his reaction might be surprisingly supportive.”
In his arms, McCoy began to sag as his passionate resistance slowly gave out. “Why do this? If you want me to stop fighting you then fine, I’ll stop. That’s no reason to take this kind of risk.”
“Perhaps, Doctor, if that was all I desired. However, what I want is your complete trust, given, not taken. The nature of this bond will allow you to have what I have, a full understanding of my mind. I will also give you the training required to re-establish your shields so that you may keep some of your thoughts for yourself. There would be equality between us, a relationship built on our mutual desires. That, Leonard, is what I want.”
McCoy glared at him, his expression mulish. “Let me make sure I understand here. Three years ago, you kidnapped me and forced me into a slave bond. Since then, you've used me in every way a person can be used. And now, with almost no warning, you tell me that what you really want is an equal relationship. What if I say no?”
The expression on the Vulcan’s face remained tender, “Then I would be forced to accept your decision.”
“Bullshit…you’ve never accepted anything from me. You could just take away my right to treat the others until I agreed.”
“Yes, I could do that, but it would be rather counterproductive. One forced bond is no different than another. Leonard, the only way for me to have what I desire is if you will willingly grant it. Your responsibilities among the clan’s slaves are immaterial here.” Reaching up to cup McCoy’s cheek, he drew their faces close, pressing their foreheads together so he could stare into the human’s eyes. “You would gain much from this; control, respect, a full understanding of my feelings for you. I would gain much as well, most notably a sense of real companionship and the freedom to express my true feelings. As for my safety, it will be necessary for us to maintain a public façade of master and slave, but here, in private, we would be equals.”
Closing his eyes, Spock ran his lips over the human’s jaw and neck, breathing in his scent. “I desire this, Leonard. I believe that I have desired it for a long time, perhaps years. But I will force nothing on you. I will not even take your thoughts, Doctor. I will only ask you, humbly and honestly, to be my mate. Please tell me what you think.”
“I think you’re out of your damn mind.”
The Vulcan smiled. “That is entirely possible. My own kind would agree with you, no doubt. However, you must not forget that I too am human. I too am emotional and foolish at times. Now please, tell me, what is your answer?”
“We’ll be careful, right?”
“Of course.
“You say this so lightly.”
“No, I assure you that I speak with deep conviction, the kind that can only be had when one is certain of their path.”
Pulling away slightly, McCoy shut his eyes, biting his lip in concentration. Slight tremors in his cheeks were the only indication of the war of conflicting emotions that raged within him, but Spock made no move to push or inquire, patiently waiting as the human weighed the heavy decision that had been thrust upon him.
Spock looked up when McCoy exhaled deeply and opened his eyes. Looking up to meet Spock face to face, the doctor nodded his head slowly. “Alright. I’ll give you what you want.”
The Vulcan left no time for reconsideration as he pulled the human close and bore him back down on the bed and took his mouth. He half expected some instinctual resistance, but McCoy met his kiss with eager enthusiasm.
He tensed a bit as Spock took his hands and pinned them above his head. “Will I feel anything?”
Spock smirked against his lips. “You will feel everything. And you will enjoy it immensely.”
Grasping the human’s wrist in one hand, Spock ran his fingers lightly over McCoy’s throat and chest, enjoying the subtle hitch in the other man’s breath. Skirting up an over McCoy’s jaw, he was reaching for the meld points when suddenly his human spoke.
“It’s because I’ve been in control before. I didn’t do a good job. People died. I don’t ever want that to happen again.”
Staring down, Spock cocked his head. With a slight shrug, McCoy continued. “You wanted to know, didn’t you? You wanted to know why I needed you to be in control all the time. I want to tell you now, so that you definitely hear it from me and not because you picked up through my thoughts.” At Spock’s understanding nod, McCoy went on, “You see, I used to be in control of everything. I took care of my family and ran an entire hospital. So many people were my responsibility. They were under my care and looked up to me and I failed them. Illness took my father even though I promised to save him. Violence and war took my family and patients even though I swore to keep them safe. I’ve been in control before, enough to know that I don’t want to be in control again.”
“Your wife and the little girl…Joanna? They are dead?”
“Years ago.”
Leaning over the prone form beneath him, Spock sought McCoy’s ear as fingers probed and prepared the man’s body. “I could tell you, of course, that these things are not your fault, but I am certain you have heard those words before and they have brought little comfort. Instead, I will simply assure you that you will still be mine. I will simply be yours as well. And neither of us need fear, for we will protect and comfort each other.” Skimming his hand back up the human’s face, he found the meld points and pushed.
He lost all connection to his physical self as his mind raced along the threads of their existing bond, tracing it back to the anchors he had set in McCoy’s consciousness three years prior. The bond trembled beneath his mental touch, perhaps sensing its demise as he seized it and ripped it roughly, threading newer, stronger, brighter strands to bind their minds together mutually. This new pathway was smooth, unresisting, and he could feel McCoy’s hesitant exploration deep within his thoughts. Reaching for his wandering mate, he called out, “Leonard?”
“Trensu?” came a directionless reply.
“You will not call me that anymore, not here. I am no longer your master.”
“What do I call you then?”
Within his mind, the Vulcan smiled. “You will call me by my given name. You will call me Spock.”
Spock. The name dragged him out of his mind, back to the present, to the physical, to a body as locked in the instinctual needs of the bond as his mind. Incredible bursts of pleasure ripped through him and he opened his eyes to find himself sprawled over the thrashing, moaning form of his newly taken mate. His body was simply beyond his control, driving into the human beneath him with animalistic intensity. His body was its own entity, his mind had no recourse, but whatever fears he may have had about his mate’s well-being died out as Leonard wrapped his arms and legs around Spock’s heaving form, meeting him thrust for thrust. The human’s head thrashed from side to side and deep, mindless moans poured from his throat. Spock devoured those sounds, given freely in ecstasy, not moderated by the confines or demands of a slave bond.
His human was beautiful in his wantonness, inhibitions scattered as he gave himself over to their coupling. His own body felt surreal to him, unfettered, but he found the loss of control most satisfying as mindless pleasure wafted over him. Everything was electrified, magnified on a never ending loop as his pleasure blended with that of his mate’s, racing in both directions up and down the bond.
Wrapping his arms around the human’s back, he pulled Leonard up to straddle him across his knees, pressing their bodies flush as he continued to pound into his willing mate. His exceptional strength was put to use, lifting the human and driving him back along his shaft, again and again as Leonard moaned and arched over his arm.
A coil of delicious sensation was rippling across the bond and forming in his belly and Spock knew that his human was close. Their link was acting on its own agenda, pushing them towards powerful and mutual gratification and Spock began to thrust harder as Leonard wrapped his arms around Spock’s shoulder s and clung, sending jolts of decadent friction to every inch of their sensitized skin. Leaning in, Leonard pressed his forehead against his mate’s, their thick, panting breath intermingling as their eyes met and held. Every nerve in their bodies was singing for release, compounding and multiplying on top of each other as each sensation felt by one was magnified by the other. They were hovering on the precipice when Leonard suddenly threw his arm around the Vulcan’s neck and pressed their lips together.
The reaction was instantaneous, an explosion that began in his cock and ripped through every synapse in his body. His mind stuttered and went momentarily dead as he tore his lips away from the human to let loose a primal roar of satisfaction. Leonard threw back his head, his mouth thrown open in a voiceless cry, his eyes wide and shocked by the force of the climax pouring over him.
It could have gone on for hours but slowly, conscious thought began to return to the Vulcan. His body, so strong and agile under normal circumstances, was loose-limbed and trembling, and he could barely support the half-conscious human that dangled weakly over his arm. Using his last reserves of strength, he guided them down to the bed, letting Leonard sprawl across the sheets as he sank down atop him and burrowed his head into the human’s chest. Their hearts were racing and they gasped for breath in perfect tandem.
Leonard was fading, he could sense it across the bond. Sleep was a necessity for the exhausted human and Spock would let him take all he needed, but first he had to see him, had to look into the eyes of the human who had somehow seized his heart.
His skin was on fire, nearly too sensitive to touch, and he finally drew back, pushing himself up on his arms to lean over the gasping, panting, sated form of his human as he fought to catch his own breath. Beneath him, McCoy forced his eyes open and on him even as complete exhaustion threatened to claim him. The look in the human’s eyes was deep and mysterious and Spock ached to plumb their depths, but such an action would be foolish in his depleted condition. Instead, as McCoy’s trembling arm reached out and elegant fingers threaded through the ebony tendrils of his hair, he found the breath to ask, “What is this look you have? What do you see?”
The human’s eyes were fighting to close but a small, impish smile spread across your lips. His voice was husky and heavy with sleep as he murmured, “You. It’s just…you’re…beautiful.” His voice died away on the last word as fatigue finally pulled him into a deep slumber.
Staring down at his unconscious mate, the irascible features softened in sleep, Spock contemplated his new fate. It was worth it, so very worth it, but the challenges they would face would be harsh and numerous. Someday, he knew, he would be called on to take a wife, to bond with a Vulcan female in order to produce an heir. Such a day was many years off but it would come, and then they would most likely have to flee, leaving everything Spock knew behind. Then they would truly be equals, two homeless strangers adrift with nothing but each other to tether them. And yet, even in the face of such hardships, the sacrifice still seemed worth the prize.
Exhaustion was threatening to claim him but he took a moment to skim his hand along the peaceful face of his kafeh. No, no, never again would this man be slave. Not kafeh but ashayam, lover. At least here, in this room, if not yet the universe over.
What would it be like, he wondered as he sank bonelessly to the bed and pulled the loose-limbed human into his arms, to live in a world of peace between their people? If they had been born allies instead of foes, what could they have become, what could they have accomplished together? Hypothetical musings served no valuable purpose, but still he could not help but wonder what might have been.
But now weariness was dragging him down and he needed to seek necessary rejuvenation. Turning carefully on his side, he nestled Leonard’s sleeping form against him, gently pushing back a lock of hair and pressing a tender kiss. A sense of peace permeated the bond and washed over him, sending him into a sated and contented sleep.
Worth, indeed.
-Fin
Part 4a
Rearing back, Spock flipped them, tumbling them body to hot body to pin his human beneath him on the bed. Seizing McCoy’s wrists, he stretched them out helplessly above the human’s head and pressed them securely to the sheet with one arm. Using his hips to splay the human’s thighs wide around him, he thrust deeply into the ready body, seating himself to the hilt. Beneath him, McCoy gasped and arched into the intrusion, writhing and pulling desperately against the hands that bound him to the bed. He bucked and fought but the Vulcan held him easily, plying his body with shallow thrusts, an undeniable reminder of who was now in control. Beneath him, McCoy’s meager strength began to flag, and he relaxed back onto the sheets, arms limp from exertion. Using his free hand, Spock grasped the human’s chin and pulled his head back, baring the column of his throat to his teeth and tongue. Worrying mercilessly at the tender skin, Spock growled, “You feel anger, Kafeh. I am failing to please you as you have pleased me. You do not want what I have offered you tonight.” Pulling his head back, he gazed piercingly into the human’s tense face. “Give me your thoughts, Kafeh, because you will it, not because I take them. Tell me what it is, this need of yours that you will not share.”
Beneath his hands, the human squirmed futilely. Rebellion and dissension were written into the very fabric of his being but underneath each revolt Spock detected a profound sense of relief. His kafeh might fight him, but Spock had long known that at his core McCoy found comfort and solace in his dominance. He had used this information for his own purposes, teased the doctor with it when is suited him, but he had never once asked why. Suddenly, he needed to know, needed to understand this loathed but paramount desire that afflicted his human. Cradling McCoy’s cheek, he forced the human to meet his eyes.
“Kafeh, will you continue to fight me? I told you once that I desired your compliance but that if you denied me I would simply take what is mine. And you remain mine. Is that what has prompted this emotional response. Do you seek to test my commitment?
An indignant spark ignited in the hazel eyes and Spock pounced upon it. “Ah, no, Kafeh, I can see that is not what troubles you. What, then? What is the source of your need to feel my power?
Beneath him, McCoy shut his eyes and attempted to pull away but Spock held him fast, thrusting sharply into the human’s and drawing a harsh gasp. Meeting his gaze with fury burning across his face, McCoy spit out across the bond, “You’ve made me an open book. Why are you even asking me? If you want answers, you can just go in my head and pull them out!”
Spock traced a finger idly down the bridge of the human’s nose. “This is true, Kafeh, but I tell you now that I will not do this. I believe that you wish me to know but do not desire to tell me. But you and I have circled around this fact since I first claimed you.
It is not just the knowledge that I want. I still desire your compliance. I desire the trust you have bestowed upon me. I desire the vulnerability necessary to speak difficult truths to me. So, no, my Kafeh, I will not take what I want. I will wait for you to give it willingly.”
Adjusting his hold on McCoy’s wrists, Spock settled the long lines of his body against that of the human’s but made no effort to move within him. Their eyes met and held, unyielding black orbs locking on unwavering hazel in a stalemate. Letting his free hand continue to trace the human’s facial features, Spock settled into the stare-off and waited as McCoy’s stalwart resistance began to crumble under his tender touch.
“Suppose I don’t tell you? What will you do? The look in the human’s eyes was almost accusatory. “Will you punish me? Are you going to stop me from treating patients?”
A spark of real anger flared in the Vulcan’s chest but he stifled it instantly. They were, he realized, fair questions. “Kafeh, I will not compel or coerce you. In this instance, if you choose to deny me, I will accept that. There will be no consequences to your decision.”
His tone was even and carried a soothing timber but the words themselves were the match to the long buried powder keg of his doctor’s emotions. Under a sudden surge of adrenaline, McCoy yanked one of his hands free and battered at the Vulcan’s shoulder and back. Spock watched the flailing arm, noting the ease with which he could capture it and pin it back down. It was instinctual, the need to seize and pin, but he stopped himself and pulled back instead, out and away from the struggling body beneath him. Resting back on his heels, he watched as McCoy scrambled back and away to press into the wall on the far side of their bed. Meeting the human’s eyes, Spock anticipated confusion and panic but his prickly kafeh managed to surprise him once again. The human met his gaze in a full on, audible rage.
“Don’t. Don’t do that. I said I trusted you because you never lied to me but dammit, you’re lying to me now. Don’t you dare pretend you’re doing this for me. You’ve spent three damn years pulling me apart and you know me. And maybe you haven’t let me run roughshod through your mind but let me tell you, I know you, too.
Here’s what I know. Everything you do is for you. You sit here and tell me you won’t go riffling through my head and pretend you’re doing me a favor? Bullshit! You know me and you know how much I hate to have to admit things to your face. But that doesn’t stop you from making me do it. So let’s not play games here. Every time I break down and admit something to you, that’s just another little piece of me you get to own. That’s what this is about, not trust or coercion, just you getting to own another little piece of me!”
The human’s face was flushed, his body tense and furious, but Spock was certain he’d never looked more enticing. His eyes had a wild, primitive glow to them and his fists were curled tightly, the muscles in his arms shaking with effort as he clutched the smooth material of the sheet. The plush lips Spock enjoyed so much were curling back from his teeth in an animalistic snarl. There wasn’t a trace of fear anywhere on the human, only the fury that rolled off of him in waves and lapped at Spock’s knees.
Cocking his head slightly, Spock eyed McCoy, turning the angry words over in his head as he assessed his prey from across the bed. Slowly, the human’s fingers began to uncurl as the reality of his tirade finally began to fracture. The rough aggression ebbed away as he considered the possible ramifications of his outburst. Curling in on himself defensively, McCoy stared down at the sheet, twisted from his grasp.
Now Spock could sense fear from the doctor, not for himself, of course, but for the patient’s under his care. A sharp sliver of annoyance shot through the Vulcan, but he realized the human’s concern was to be expected. He’d promised that McCoy would suffer no repercussions for choosing not to answer him but nothing had been said about explosive verbal attacks. McCoy’s resistance was usually so subtle. In fact, he had not graced Spock with his acid tongue since the bond had been implemented. It was inappropriate for a bonded kafeh to address his trensu with anything other than respect, but Spock could not deny the spark McCoy’s rancor raised within him. This was what he wanted, the indomitable spirit that had first attracted him to the human. The fierce determination that had made McCoy fight him every step of the way.
Humans and their emotions! How was he to rectify this with McCoy’s distress? The human wanted to fight, reveled in the fight, but under no circumstances did he want to win. He wanted push and to rebel but only as long as Spock eventually pinned him down and reasserted his control. Also, though he was quite aware of his strange need, McCoy desperately did not want to admit it aloud. If he, Spock, were to pull the knowledge from his head, that would be acceptable, but to be forced to admit it the Vulcan’s face would be devastating to his human.
Spock considered these revelations as he stared at the man across the bed. McCoy had not always needed this. Spock had not evidence to support his theory but deep seated instinct told him it was true. Something had happened to his kafeh that made him crave a domineering hand and Spock needed to know what it was. He found himself faced with discomfiting indecision. Should he enter the human’s mind and take the knowledge he craved. McCoy would prefer this, since it would require no admittance or responsibility on his part. Yet, even as his fingers twitched against his leg, desiring to meld, he found himself deciding no. What would bring temporary relief would ultimately lead to the destruction of everything he and the human had built between them. No, he would woo the information from his doctor, woo it with his own vulnerable declarations.
Casting a deceptively cold look at McCoy, he leaned forward on his hands and knees and stalked across the sheet.
“You are correct, Kafeh. Under Vulcan custom, you are mine in mind and body. I am fully within my rights to probe your every thought if I so choose. I do not have to ask, I am free to simply take but as you have noticed, I often choose not to. Instead I seek out ways to make you admit your secrets to me. I do this deliberately and I enjoy it.”
The human’s face twisted in miserable but helpless acceptance, squeezing his eyes shut, and Spock seized the opportunity. Lunging forward, he hooked an arm around McCoy’s waist and hauled him across the bed. The human slammed into him, losing his breath from the impact as Spock reached up and threaded a hand through the short, brown hair. He fisted the chestnut locks, using the handhold to bend McCoy to his lips. Then he captured the human’s mouth, plundering his lips, given a harsh yank to the brown hair when the human resisted. Beneath his greedy, seeking tongue, Spock felt capitulation as McCoy relaxed beneath him and began to respond. He immediately gentled his assault, plying the human’s tongue lightly and playfully as he released the fierce grip on McCoy’s hair and began to slowly massage the tense cords of his neck.
The fight was leaving McCoy, their kiss becoming heated as the doctor began to respond with enthusiasm, but Spock realized that simple surrender would not satisfy him, not tonight or any night after. The plan that had been slowly taking shape in the back of his mind suddenly crystallized into perfect clarity, morphing instantly from mere fancy to absolute necessity. It was ill-conceived and dangerous, and could easily result in his own death, but Spock found he simply did not care for even one hour of true companionship with this incredible creature would be well worth the sacrifice. First, however, he must secure his human’s willing compliance for there was no forcing a bond such as this.
Loosening his hold on McCoy’s waist, Spock pulled back slightly, breaking their kiss and meeting the human’s wary eyes. Stroking a hand lightly across his cheek, Spock pushed gently, into McCoy’s mind.
“Leonard?”
At the sound of his given name, real terror darkened the human’s face but Spock pressed a finger to the cool lips and continued. “Do not be alarmed.” His hand returned to McCoy’s neck and he felt the human’s tension begin to abate beneath his touch. “Leonard, I confess I do crave your secrets. I do enjoy your stubborn refusal and the sense of gratification I feel when you finally make an admission to me. But if you assume that I take some sort of malicious satisfaction in your pain, then you are wrong.
I take pleasure in your confessions because they allow me to fuel what I believe you would call a fantasy. It allows me to ignore the traditional confines of our relationship and imagine us as equal partners. Recently, I have pushed you more and more for these omissions and I realize now that my motivation is my own unwillingness to allow the fantasy to stay in my mind. I wish it to become the reality of our lives.”
Drawing back, he contemplated the human’s face. Leonard appeared shocked, he eyes wide and his lips pursed in amazement. Resting his hands on the Vulcan’s shoulders, he spoke in a panicked but carefully measured voice.
“What are you saying? Even talking about something like this could get you killed.”
Spock nearly smiled at his human’s concern. “I have considered the risk and I deem it acceptable.”
“Well, I don’t.” bellowed the human from inside his head. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a doctor. My job is to preserve life and that includes yours. Are you out of your Vulcan mind? What could you possibly hope to gain from this? Of all the illogical, ridiculous…”
McCoy’s mental tirade cut off abruptly as Spock raised a hand and tenderly stroked his face. “This, Leonard, is what I hope to gain from it. You’re honesty and temperament. I want you unafraid to speak your mind. I have observed you carefully these past three years and I realize that you require transparency and honesty above all things. It is true that I have not lied to your face but I have lied through omission many times.
I admit that there are risks to the bond. My kinsmen would most likely kill me if they discovered it. However, the likelihood of that is minimal. I am, after all, not in the habit of engaging in mind melds with random strangers and my shields are of sufficient strength that accidental physical contact would reveal little more than the expected bond between kafeh and trensu.”
“But you do meld with your father!”
“You are correct and he would be well within his rights to demand my life and your service if he discovered it. However, my father is not in the habit of scouring through my mind, even during a meld. I also believe that, were he to discover the bond, his reaction might be surprisingly supportive.”
In his arms, McCoy began to sag as his passionate resistance slowly gave out. “Why do this? If you want me to stop fighting you then fine, I’ll stop. That’s no reason to take this kind of risk.”
“Perhaps, Doctor, if that was all I desired. However, what I want is your complete trust, given, not taken. The nature of this bond will allow you to have what I have, a full understanding of my mind. I will also give you the training required to re-establish your shields so that you may keep some of your thoughts for yourself. There would be equality between us, a relationship built on our mutual desires. That, Leonard, is what I want.”
McCoy glared at him, his expression mulish. “Let me make sure I understand here. Three years ago, you kidnapped me and forced me into a slave bond. Since then, you've used me in every way a person can be used. And now, with almost no warning, you tell me that what you really want is an equal relationship. What if I say no?”
The expression on the Vulcan’s face remained tender, “Then I would be forced to accept your decision.”
“Bullshit…you’ve never accepted anything from me. You could just take away my right to treat the others until I agreed.”
“Yes, I could do that, but it would be rather counterproductive. One forced bond is no different than another. Leonard, the only way for me to have what I desire is if you will willingly grant it. Your responsibilities among the clan’s slaves are immaterial here.” Reaching up to cup McCoy’s cheek, he drew their faces close, pressing their foreheads together so he could stare into the human’s eyes. “You would gain much from this; control, respect, a full understanding of my feelings for you. I would gain much as well, most notably a sense of real companionship and the freedom to express my true feelings. As for my safety, it will be necessary for us to maintain a public façade of master and slave, but here, in private, we would be equals.”
Closing his eyes, Spock ran his lips over the human’s jaw and neck, breathing in his scent. “I desire this, Leonard. I believe that I have desired it for a long time, perhaps years. But I will force nothing on you. I will not even take your thoughts, Doctor. I will only ask you, humbly and honestly, to be my mate. Please tell me what you think.”
“I think you’re out of your damn mind.”
The Vulcan smiled. “That is entirely possible. My own kind would agree with you, no doubt. However, you must not forget that I too am human. I too am emotional and foolish at times. Now please, tell me, what is your answer?”
“We’ll be careful, right?”
“Of course.
“You say this so lightly.”
“No, I assure you that I speak with deep conviction, the kind that can only be had when one is certain of their path.”
Pulling away slightly, McCoy shut his eyes, biting his lip in concentration. Slight tremors in his cheeks were the only indication of the war of conflicting emotions that raged within him, but Spock made no move to push or inquire, patiently waiting as the human weighed the heavy decision that had been thrust upon him.
Spock looked up when McCoy exhaled deeply and opened his eyes. Looking up to meet Spock face to face, the doctor nodded his head slowly. “Alright. I’ll give you what you want.”
The Vulcan left no time for reconsideration as he pulled the human close and bore him back down on the bed and took his mouth. He half expected some instinctual resistance, but McCoy met his kiss with eager enthusiasm.
He tensed a bit as Spock took his hands and pinned them above his head. “Will I feel anything?”
Spock smirked against his lips. “You will feel everything. And you will enjoy it immensely.”
Grasping the human’s wrist in one hand, Spock ran his fingers lightly over McCoy’s throat and chest, enjoying the subtle hitch in the other man’s breath. Skirting up an over McCoy’s jaw, he was reaching for the meld points when suddenly his human spoke.
“It’s because I’ve been in control before. I didn’t do a good job. People died. I don’t ever want that to happen again.”
Staring down, Spock cocked his head. With a slight shrug, McCoy continued. “You wanted to know, didn’t you? You wanted to know why I needed you to be in control all the time. I want to tell you now, so that you definitely hear it from me and not because you picked up through my thoughts.” At Spock’s understanding nod, McCoy went on, “You see, I used to be in control of everything. I took care of my family and ran an entire hospital. So many people were my responsibility. They were under my care and looked up to me and I failed them. Illness took my father even though I promised to save him. Violence and war took my family and patients even though I swore to keep them safe. I’ve been in control before, enough to know that I don’t want to be in control again.”
“Your wife and the little girl…Joanna? They are dead?”
“Years ago.”
Leaning over the prone form beneath him, Spock sought McCoy’s ear as fingers probed and prepared the man’s body. “I could tell you, of course, that these things are not your fault, but I am certain you have heard those words before and they have brought little comfort. Instead, I will simply assure you that you will still be mine. I will simply be yours as well. And neither of us need fear, for we will protect and comfort each other.” Skimming his hand back up the human’s face, he found the meld points and pushed.
He lost all connection to his physical self as his mind raced along the threads of their existing bond, tracing it back to the anchors he had set in McCoy’s consciousness three years prior. The bond trembled beneath his mental touch, perhaps sensing its demise as he seized it and ripped it roughly, threading newer, stronger, brighter strands to bind their minds together mutually. This new pathway was smooth, unresisting, and he could feel McCoy’s hesitant exploration deep within his thoughts. Reaching for his wandering mate, he called out, “Leonard?”
“Trensu?” came a directionless reply.
“You will not call me that anymore, not here. I am no longer your master.”
“What do I call you then?”
Within his mind, the Vulcan smiled. “You will call me by my given name. You will call me Spock.”
Spock. The name dragged him out of his mind, back to the present, to the physical, to a body as locked in the instinctual needs of the bond as his mind. Incredible bursts of pleasure ripped through him and he opened his eyes to find himself sprawled over the thrashing, moaning form of his newly taken mate. His body was simply beyond his control, driving into the human beneath him with animalistic intensity. His body was its own entity, his mind had no recourse, but whatever fears he may have had about his mate’s well-being died out as Leonard wrapped his arms and legs around Spock’s heaving form, meeting him thrust for thrust. The human’s head thrashed from side to side and deep, mindless moans poured from his throat. Spock devoured those sounds, given freely in ecstasy, not moderated by the confines or demands of a slave bond.
His human was beautiful in his wantonness, inhibitions scattered as he gave himself over to their coupling. His own body felt surreal to him, unfettered, but he found the loss of control most satisfying as mindless pleasure wafted over him. Everything was electrified, magnified on a never ending loop as his pleasure blended with that of his mate’s, racing in both directions up and down the bond.
Wrapping his arms around the human’s back, he pulled Leonard up to straddle him across his knees, pressing their bodies flush as he continued to pound into his willing mate. His exceptional strength was put to use, lifting the human and driving him back along his shaft, again and again as Leonard moaned and arched over his arm.
A coil of delicious sensation was rippling across the bond and forming in his belly and Spock knew that his human was close. Their link was acting on its own agenda, pushing them towards powerful and mutual gratification and Spock began to thrust harder as Leonard wrapped his arms around Spock’s shoulder s and clung, sending jolts of decadent friction to every inch of their sensitized skin. Leaning in, Leonard pressed his forehead against his mate’s, their thick, panting breath intermingling as their eyes met and held. Every nerve in their bodies was singing for release, compounding and multiplying on top of each other as each sensation felt by one was magnified by the other. They were hovering on the precipice when Leonard suddenly threw his arm around the Vulcan’s neck and pressed their lips together.
The reaction was instantaneous, an explosion that began in his cock and ripped through every synapse in his body. His mind stuttered and went momentarily dead as he tore his lips away from the human to let loose a primal roar of satisfaction. Leonard threw back his head, his mouth thrown open in a voiceless cry, his eyes wide and shocked by the force of the climax pouring over him.
It could have gone on for hours but slowly, conscious thought began to return to the Vulcan. His body, so strong and agile under normal circumstances, was loose-limbed and trembling, and he could barely support the half-conscious human that dangled weakly over his arm. Using his last reserves of strength, he guided them down to the bed, letting Leonard sprawl across the sheets as he sank down atop him and burrowed his head into the human’s chest. Their hearts were racing and they gasped for breath in perfect tandem.
Leonard was fading, he could sense it across the bond. Sleep was a necessity for the exhausted human and Spock would let him take all he needed, but first he had to see him, had to look into the eyes of the human who had somehow seized his heart.
His skin was on fire, nearly too sensitive to touch, and he finally drew back, pushing himself up on his arms to lean over the gasping, panting, sated form of his human as he fought to catch his own breath. Beneath him, McCoy forced his eyes open and on him even as complete exhaustion threatened to claim him. The look in the human’s eyes was deep and mysterious and Spock ached to plumb their depths, but such an action would be foolish in his depleted condition. Instead, as McCoy’s trembling arm reached out and elegant fingers threaded through the ebony tendrils of his hair, he found the breath to ask, “What is this look you have? What do you see?”
The human’s eyes were fighting to close but a small, impish smile spread across your lips. His voice was husky and heavy with sleep as he murmured, “You. It’s just…you’re…beautiful.” His voice died away on the last word as fatigue finally pulled him into a deep slumber.
Staring down at his unconscious mate, the irascible features softened in sleep, Spock contemplated his new fate. It was worth it, so very worth it, but the challenges they would face would be harsh and numerous. Someday, he knew, he would be called on to take a wife, to bond with a Vulcan female in order to produce an heir. Such a day was many years off but it would come, and then they would most likely have to flee, leaving everything Spock knew behind. Then they would truly be equals, two homeless strangers adrift with nothing but each other to tether them. And yet, even in the face of such hardships, the sacrifice still seemed worth the prize.
Exhaustion was threatening to claim him but he took a moment to skim his hand along the peaceful face of his kafeh. No, no, never again would this man be slave. Not kafeh but ashayam, lover. At least here, in this room, if not yet the universe over.
What would it be like, he wondered as he sank bonelessly to the bed and pulled the loose-limbed human into his arms, to live in a world of peace between their people? If they had been born allies instead of foes, what could they have become, what could they have accomplished together? Hypothetical musings served no valuable purpose, but still he could not help but wonder what might have been.
But now weariness was dragging him down and he needed to seek necessary rejuvenation. Turning carefully on his side, he nestled Leonard’s sleeping form against him, gently pushing back a lock of hair and pressing a tender kiss. A sense of peace permeated the bond and washed over him, sending him into a sated and contented sleep.
Worth, indeed.
-Fin
Part 4a