Star Trek XI fic: Shields
Title: Shields
Series/Spoilers: Star Trek XI
Rating: NC17
Characters/pairings: McCoy/Spock, mention of Nero/Spock
Summary: Pre-slash, friendship, hurt/comfort. Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3
Word count: 4159
A/N: This is a response to this prompt from the st_xi_kink meme: #mumble mumble# I sort of want Bones treating Spock for rape. UM. Please? . No beta :(. I fear that I am progressing this too quickly. Let me know if I am wrong. I just want a little physical intimacy outside the Doctor/Patient situation. I am pretending that Joanna is a little older in this story. I don't know how much I like this chapter, it took me so long to write, rewrite, and then write again.
Spock was nestled in the middle of the double bed, his legs tightly crossed and his back straight. His hands were draped loosely around each knee. The room was silent, only a dim ambiance of light flickering from replicated candles. Outwardly, it was the picture of tranquility and peace. However, for the past three hours, Spock was in a frustrated, incongruent state.
He was chasing his frantic thoughts, trying desperately to retrieve and knit them back together. His emotions would not cease in flaring at any given moment with rage, confusion, and want. He could not decipher his Vulcan logic from his human irrationality. Images of Nero clashed with his feelings for Leonard, memories of being bathed by calloused, but gentle hands were overlaid with a tattooed forehead pressed against his own...
Opening his eyes, he exhaled shakily and rubbed at his temples. Today was not the day for meditating it seemed. He checked the ship's time and noted that Leonard would likely be returning to his quarters within the next thirty minutes. He stood from the bed and stretched his limbs, noting that there was little pain remaining, before walking to the replicator for a cup of spiced tea.
Spock made his way to the wide window and gazed out into the dark, star streaked space. Allowing his thoughts to wander to the good doctor, he was mildly perturbed at the sudden sensation of his stomach fluttering. Placing a hand over his abdomen, he noted that his heartbeat appeared to increase in speed when thinking of Leonard. A most curious event.
Though his meditation had not been satisfactory, he had discovered that the interruption of his sleep the night prior had been Leonard. While he had surprisingly slept through being relocated to the doctor's bed, he could vividly recall the mental intruder. He deduced that Leonard could not have intentionally caused such thought transference. While the act required skin-to-skin contact, it was probable that such approximation ensued after Leonard had already placed him in his bed. Perhaps simple, human curiosity...
It had been a deep warmth that seemed to penetrate and dismantle his chaotic thoughts. He had been stunned at the thick, heavy fog that enveloped him. Everything had been quiet, his thoughts and emotions as clear as they had been before the Narada. Too quickly it had ended and he found himself raging, reaching out to get it back.
He walked back to the immaculately made bed and rested on the edge. When he had awoke that morning, Leonard had already left for sickbay, a PADD with his instructions for the day sitting on the bedside table. Spock smiled inside as he recalled the doctor's words:
If you're reading this before 10:00, you're lucky I'm not there to hypospray you back to sleep. Take it easy today and get lots of rest. I left a list of high iron and protein meals for you to choose from. I'll be done my shift around 11:00 and then likely grab lunch with Jim. I'll be back and hounding you for 12:00. If you need me, you know where I am.
I hope you feel a little better today.
L
He would only privately admit that he had read Leonard's message more than once, although he had retained the information without hindrance the first time. He did not deny the developing emotions that progressed beyond simple friendship. Over the months, he found himself often thinking of Leonard while he was alone in his quarters and before he fell asleep. It was a very human reaction to a very human concept. He remembered the term as being called a 'crush'. I have developed a crush on Leonard. He smirked at the grammatical discrepancy.
While he intended to eventually reveal his new feelings to the doctor, he felt a sense of trepidation after the events of the Narada. His brow furrowed in concern. Would Leonard be weary of him after such an invasive examination? Would he reject a physically intimate relationship due to his encounter with Nero? Would he even entertain the idea a same-sex encounter?
The swoosh of the doors signalled Leonard's return. The fluttering in his abdomen hitched into his throat and he quickly reeled in his control. It would not do well to fawn like some adolescent human female. He stood to greet the other man.
"Sit down, you." McCoy deposited his medical bag on his desk and with a tricorder in hand, rounded on Spock, who was now reseated on the bed. Nothing appeared to be hindering Spock's healing for which he was thankful. Nodding, he set the device on the bed and turned to pull off his uniform shirt.
"So, how was your morning?" Rolling up the sleeves of his black under shirt, he strode back to Spock and sat next to him on the bed. He refused to name the pang in his chest as disappointment, when Spock shifted and put a few inches between them. Leaning forward he rested his elbows on his knees and frowned at the floor.
"I took the opportunity to read up on the post-mission logs and found no error with the reported data. I adequately followed your orders to rest, and meditated for a substantial period of time."
"And how did that go?" McCoy gave Spock the side-eye, watching his body language.
Spock paused, studying him for a short moment. "Not as well as I had hoped. Although, I had a most curious vision last night during sleep."
McCoy stood and walked to the replicator for a glass of water. Downing most of it in one gulp, he frantically tried to quell the nausea that lapped at his throat. "Listen..." he winced at the crack in his voice and turned to face Spock again, "I didn't mean for whatever happened...to happen. I don't even know what it was."
Spock's eyebrow rose slightly, perhaps in amusement, McCoy hoped. "Doctor, you misunderstand; I am not upset with you. I was exhausted and my mental shields were weakened from trauma. I am aware that you did not intend on invading my privacy, nor would you ever do it maliciously." The dark eyes watched him closely and McCoy suddenly felt cornered.
Swallowing, he replied: "I was...caught up...-" He felt his face flush and he scowled at the floor.He's not stable right now, how do I say 'I've wanted you for months?' Frustrated, he scratched through his hair and looked up. Spock continued to stare at him, his eyes smiling, each second melting McCoy's heart. Remembering what it was like being behind those eyes, consumed in blissful thoughts, a lump formed in his throat.
He cut through the silence with a rough voice, "I'm gonna take a shower."
Walking past Spock, he made his way to the bathroom. Angrily ripping off his clothes, he threw himself into the scalding water and choked out the breath he was holding. Closing his eyes, he desperately wished for confidence and strength. I don't even know what to do...
Feeling helpless, he slid down the slick wall and pulled his knees to his chest. Resting his head on his forearms, his thoughts began wandering.
Since he could remember, he had always known where his attractions were focused. While Earth was an open-minded and accepting society now, he had repressed the attraction to his gender, to anyone, and focused solely on his schooling. While his friends were experimenting with relationships, he was preparing for high school, university, medical school and residency. There was never any time to consider a relationship.
When he had met Jocelyn, he truly had fallen in love with her. Marrying her and having Joanna were decisions made out of the deepest love and devotion. He never wished that she was a male, and he never stepped out on her once. She was a perfect wife and mother; he was a perfect husband and father. However, she had come to him one day near the end and told him, in detail, what he had desperately hidden his entire life and that she had been seeing an old boyfriend. He had given her everything she wanted in the divorce, and refused to take Joanna away from her mother. When he had decided to join Starfleet, with Joanna's blessing of course, Jocelyn had promised him that he would never be denied access to their daughter. He was grateful that the messy divorce hadn't diminished their dignity when it came to their child.
But now there was no reason to continue denying himself. He longingly thought of Spock and his body trembled, starved and craving the feel of another male pressed against him. His heart ached and he allowed himself to imagine his reactions to sensations he had never felt.
Spock was standing on the other side of the doors, approximately five feet away. He moved to stand, the instant Leonard disappeared behind them and hadn't moved since. His brow was drawn in concern for his friend. There was a crackling on the edges of his consciousness, and unintelligible words that seemed to tease his senses.
He stepped forward and placed a hand on the door, focusing his thoughts. There was an empty silence before wisps of clarity began forming in his mind. He recognized the cognitive signature as Leonard's, and encouraged the stray emotions and thoughts toward his own. He was momentarily taken aback with a sudden wave of Leonard's internal musings. Circulating the emotions, he recognized shame, anger, and a deep, throbbing need that almost made him sick. Before long, he began hearing the thoughts that were playing companion to the feelings. They swirled into his mind's focus and Spock strained to hear them, '-our chess game last week...stand the sight of me after the Narada...the exam. -so lonely it's pathetic-'
The doors suddenly parted, a damp and startled doctor peering at him from under the towel draped over his hair. Spock, thankfully having had the grace to remove his hand in time, merely stood in silence. Leonard cleared his throat, "Is there...a problem?"
Weighing the options of broaching the subject of Leonard's emotional turmoil and the cause of it, he decided it would be best to wait until a more suitable moment. "No doctor, I apologise for startling you. I was simply waiting for you to finish bathing so I could utilize your facilities."
An eyebrow climbed slowly, the eyes squinting with suspicion. Spock chuckled inside at the slightly manic expression, of which he held a certain affection for. The body shifted and walked around him at a wide berth, "Knock yourself out."
Now standing in the slightly humid room, Spock explored his surroundings, pretending to be occupied. Shuffling idly through the doctor's toiletries proved less than insightful, not learning anything useful or significant about the target of his affections. Bringing an unidentified bottle of amber coloured liquid to his nose, he inhaled cautiously. He was pleased to note that it was a recognizable scent, often catching it when Leonard would walk past him or invade his personal space to rant silently in his face.
Smiling slightly, he meticulously positioned the item in its respective place and turned to exit. He was, for the second time, forced to suffer through the sight of a shamelessly half-nude doctor. He noted that Leonard was sitting at the small table with a steaming cup of what appeared to be coffee and a meal.
"Sit."
His brow twitched at the command, but he obeyed without protest. Eyeing the tray as it was pushed towards him, he anticipated another primitive order. When the mouth opened, he raised a hand and nodded minutely. At least this would distract him from the wide chest on display that he so wanted to explore.
"I looked into some of the files on Vulcan neurology that you gave me. Your cognitive symptoms are worrying me, they read too much like Bendii syndrome though you're about a century and a half too young for that."
Spock swallowed a portion of the meal, and regarded the doctor with an even tone, "I assure you, there is nothing to be concerned with. I believe I explained the issue yesterday."
The hazel eyes narrowed slightly, "Yeah, but how am I supposed to fix it?"
Blinking, he attempted to conjure up an adequate explanation, "It is with concentrated, deep meditation that this can be alleviated. I have begun to take the necessary steps."
"You said you were having some trouble with it."
Finishing off the small lunch, Spock studied the doctor carefully before replying, "It is a complicated process. However, in some cases of mental duress, a mind-meld with a family member or spouse has been known to advance the healing process."
Spock watched as the doctor scrubbed his face with a large hand, sighing as he spoke, "I won't contact Sarek." Relieved at Leonard's words, he nodded before the man continued, "But what about a friend? Jim has melded with your old-self, which is kind of the same thing. I accidentally mucked around in your head last night. I could do it, couldn't I?" Spock was startled to hear the slight hope in his friend's voice.
"Doctor...Leonard, I am honoured by your offer. However, it is...more complicated than simply 'mucking around' in one's head. It is a highly intimate-"
A hard, resolute voice interrupted him, "I know."
Silence settled over them and Spock would have squirmed under the dark glare of his friend, had he been fully human.
Anger unexpectedly flared within him. He raked his eyes over the audacious display of flesh and snarled. He offers himself so blatantly, it is almost obscene. Drawing on the doctor's inexperience in any aspect of same-sex courtship, he flagrantly disregarded the knowledge he had of the deep pain it caused the other man and replied coldly, "You lack the knowledge of what it is you offer so freely, nor do you possess the necessary...experience."
Shocked by his own cruelty, he immediately stood and gripped the edge of the small table, trying desperately to anchor himself. His face burned with shame, as he tentatively raised his eyes to the doctor's face, unsure of what he would find.
His brow knitted together, suddenly breathless as he spoke, "Leonard..."
The other man hadn't moved, still leaning into his chair and staring at Spock. The lips were drawn a little tighter together but there was no physical reaction from his crippling insult. Leonard cleared his throat, "I'm aware that you're fighting reactions beyond your control; maybe you should have a rest."
The doctor stood and walked around the table, making his way passed Spock. The scent of the amber substance he discovered in the bathroom filled in nose. Frantic, he reached out and grabbed the man's wrist, inhumane strength allowing him to pull Leonard within arm's reach and gripped the thick upper-arms.
"No, do not idly brush aside such...such disrespect. Your friendship and medical care is invaluable to me. Please, forgive me."
Spock was disappointed at the small, self-deprecating smile that formed on the doctor's face. "Spock, if you're fixin' to hurt me, you're gonna have to be a little more imaginative."
Spock gripped the flesh tighter when the doctor made to move away, "I did not-"
"Yes, you did." The eyes studied him, relaxed and calm. Spock was confused at this reaction. "Spock, I've already heard the worst-"
"It will not alleviate any of the regret or shame I feel to hear that I am not the first one to speak such inappropriate words to you." Swallowing thickly, his voice dropped significantly, "Nor will it excuse the fact that I violated your private thoughts, only to use the most sensitive against you in protest of your deeply thoughtful offer to assist me."
Noting the pink flush staining Leonard's face as he finished speaking, he let go of the stiff flesh. While the doctor composed himself, Spock turned and with a quick visual scan of the room, he spotted the drawer that contained an oddly patterned garment that Leonard had donned yesterday. Returning, he handed the shirt over to his friend, "I do not wish for you to become chilled. And...the sight of you in this state of undress is counterproductive to my cognitive refocusing."
The self-confidence seemed to slightly dissipate as the skin was now hidden from view, the fingers impatiently fumbling with an array of buttons. Grasping the hands with his own, he lead the doctor to his bed.
Spock pulled back the thick bedding, watching the doctor watch him. He sat on the edge and smoothed over the sheets with a hand, "Come."
Sliding underneath the cool sheets, he turned so he was facing Spock. He appreciated the handsome face, glad that the bruises were fading. When Spock made to move closer, he swallowed the lump of nerves that were bundled in his throat. The body twisted to lay next to him when suddenly, Spock winced, bringing a hand to cover his ribcage.
McCoy pulled himself up to lean on an elbow while he critiqued the other man, "Are you alright?" When Spock carefully arranged himself onto his back, he turned his face, dark eyes boring into hazel.
"Leonard, I believe we should converse as to clear up any misconceptions or misunderstanding."
McCoy swallowed and shifted onto his back, now staring at the ceiling. Still able to make out Spock's form in his peripheral vision, he noted that the other man was still staring at him.
"When we played chess last week...I wanted to tell you how I felt. Jim convinced me it was a good idea. I should have listened to him, but hell, when is Jim ever onto anything good." McCoy let the slight smile fade into a neutral expression as he waited for Spock to speak.
"And how do you feel?" The voice was, as usual, even and controlled, putting his own rough, cracked tone to shame.
He rolled his eyes, making a face at the ceiling. "Are you serious?"
"Vulcans are never anything but serious, doctor." McCoy turned his head just in time to see the laughter in the dark eyes fading. Beautiful. Brow crinkling, he looked back to the ceiling.
"You know how I feel. You were there in my head with your Vulcan voodoo."
"On the contrary, doctor-"
"Christ almighty...." Scowling, he sighed and continued, "I feel... good when I'm with you." Damning his adolescent choice of words and the heat that flooded his face, he bid farewell to his dignity and went on, "And whenever we hang out, and then you leave...I feel frantic because I want you to stay. I'm afraid something will go wrong on this hell-ship, and I won't see you tomorrow. I'm always afraid you'll end up...on the slab in my sickbay. I worry about everyone that way, but...with you..." He trailed off, trying to think of something both simple and profound...Failing, he settled with: "I just want you around...for a long time. After the Narada, I-" Gagging on his words, he shuddered out a groan, whispering, "I'm sorry I had to do it so soon, and you weren't able to wash up, but you can't or there's loss of DNA and-" His panicked ramblings were halted by the hot skin of Spock's fingertips along his forehead, now sinking into the deep, soothing sensation of them trailing down his face.
I know you're out of sorts right now, and I should wait for a better moment than this, but you're all I've wanted for months. It was all I could do not to beam you to my quarters the moment you appeared on the transporter pad and take care of you here. I didn't want to touch you, not like that.
A quiet voice lulled in his mind: I would have protested such an illogical decision. You have been an exemplary friend and physician to me, for which I am grateful. And my own...intimate thoughts-Spock broke off as their shared moment was slashed apart by the vulgar image of Nero's tattooed face and the crippling sensation of being asphyxiated. Spock frantically tried to reel himself in enough to remove his hand from Leonard's forehead, not wanting to subject him to such pain.
A large hand suddenly grasped his own, holding it close against the forehead. He shuddered as Leonard pushed against his mental shields, demanding to be let through. Barely hanging on, they relented and he was immediately enveloped in Leonard's conscious. Strange, exotic aromas, spicy flavours, heavy, foreign air, and as much as he tried, he could not identify the strange manifestations. A whisper swirled in his mind, I've got you.
Thankful, but desperate to cut their connection, Spock made to pull his hand, and his thoughts, from the doctor. Anger surged through the link, and he felt a strong arm curl around his waist before being held tightly against the cool, broad skin of Leonard's side. His mind exploded with the images and sensations Leonard was projecting. Dark, earthy colours pulsed around him, the scents he recalled from last night, filling his nostrils. He whispered through their link, Thank you.
Spock was absorbed in the delicious sensations, and ran his fingers underneath the half-open garment, then through the soft, dark hair splayed across the doctor's chest. Pleased to hear the contented moan, he could feel the hunger, the depth of need was staggering now that he was so close. Feeling Leonard recoil at the sharing of the emotions he had exploited, he expertly retracted himself from the dark paradise.
Spock put a more appropriate distance between them and regarded the man he hoped to take as his mate, "It was illogical to assume, that I did not reciprocate similar affections for you."
Leonard paused before regarding his answer, "But...Lieutenant Uhura..." The voice trailed off, uncertain and hesitant.
"Gender is irrelevant."
Again, Leonard paused, no doubt in an attempt to analyse his words when there was clearly no analysis required.
The confused response came shortly after, "...What?"
"The ending of my relationship with Nyota was due to an incompatibility that could not be rectified. Therefore, there was no need to continue on with a sexual relationship as it would be severely lacking in substance. Vulcans do not simply subject themselves to rudimentary pleasures of a specified gender. There are many other factors that delegate the taking of a mate."
The next statement made him flush, mortified. "I thought you only took mates during Pon Farr."
"While this is a true assessment, Vulcans do experience the desire for physical intimacy outside the parameters of Pon Farr. Additionally, I have always been encouraged to explore my humanity, of which includes human mating rituals."
McCoy swallowed, now nervous and unsure. "How do you know I'm a suitable mate?"
"The short amount of time that I have shared your conscious, has confirmed my previous hopes."
Unable to stop himself from fading in and out of his daydream of melding with Spock, he struggled to form words. The haze was intoxicating and he wanted nothing more than to spend eternity in Spock's mind. It was perfection.
"Leonard?" He was warmed by the concern in Spock's normally even, emotionless tone.
"I'm fine. Just a little dazed." Sitting up, he gazed down at the Vulcan splayed on his bed. Folding a leg to his chest, he lazily rested his arm on his knee. "Spock...I don't know how to do this. I've never...well again, you know." Damning himself for so many years of self repression, he scowled at the heat flaring across his face. "This is horrifyingly awkward."
"You do not need to feel uncomfortable in my presence." A hand crept passed his thigh to the loosely rested hand on his knee. Two pale fingers curled around his own and pulled them closer to the other man. McCoy watched closely as the fingers idly stroked the length of both his index and middle finger. Curious, he now watched Spock's face as he reciprocated the action, amused at the green that suddenly stained the pale cheeks. His voice was rough and quiet, "What is this?"
The fingers faltered a little in their caressing as Spock answered, "This is how Vulcans show their affections toward one another. It is the equivalent of a Human kiss."
Unsurprised that the Vulcans would come up with such a minute gesture for intimacy, he was rather surprised at how much he enjoyed it. There was something innocent, yet deeply sensual about it, something that filled him with hope and promise. The idea that Spock would initiate such an act with him, helped scatter his doubt in himself.
"Computer, dim lights to eighty percent. Increase temperature by five degrees."
Sliding back down under the sheets, he shifted to face Spock and pulled the fabric over him as well. He let his eyes close, relaxing as their fingers found each other once more.
TBC
*Let me know of any needed corrections or suggestions for the next chapter :)*.
Chapter five
Series/Spoilers: Star Trek XI
Rating: NC17
Characters/pairings: McCoy/Spock, mention of Nero/Spock
Summary: Pre-slash, friendship, hurt/comfort. Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3
Word count: 4159
A/N: This is a response to this prompt from the st_xi_kink meme: #mumble mumble# I sort of want Bones treating Spock for rape. UM. Please? . No beta :(. I fear that I am progressing this too quickly. Let me know if I am wrong. I just want a little physical intimacy outside the Doctor/Patient situation. I am pretending that Joanna is a little older in this story. I don't know how much I like this chapter, it took me so long to write, rewrite, and then write again.
Spock was nestled in the middle of the double bed, his legs tightly crossed and his back straight. His hands were draped loosely around each knee. The room was silent, only a dim ambiance of light flickering from replicated candles. Outwardly, it was the picture of tranquility and peace. However, for the past three hours, Spock was in a frustrated, incongruent state.
He was chasing his frantic thoughts, trying desperately to retrieve and knit them back together. His emotions would not cease in flaring at any given moment with rage, confusion, and want. He could not decipher his Vulcan logic from his human irrationality. Images of Nero clashed with his feelings for Leonard, memories of being bathed by calloused, but gentle hands were overlaid with a tattooed forehead pressed against his own...
Opening his eyes, he exhaled shakily and rubbed at his temples. Today was not the day for meditating it seemed. He checked the ship's time and noted that Leonard would likely be returning to his quarters within the next thirty minutes. He stood from the bed and stretched his limbs, noting that there was little pain remaining, before walking to the replicator for a cup of spiced tea.
Spock made his way to the wide window and gazed out into the dark, star streaked space. Allowing his thoughts to wander to the good doctor, he was mildly perturbed at the sudden sensation of his stomach fluttering. Placing a hand over his abdomen, he noted that his heartbeat appeared to increase in speed when thinking of Leonard. A most curious event.
Though his meditation had not been satisfactory, he had discovered that the interruption of his sleep the night prior had been Leonard. While he had surprisingly slept through being relocated to the doctor's bed, he could vividly recall the mental intruder. He deduced that Leonard could not have intentionally caused such thought transference. While the act required skin-to-skin contact, it was probable that such approximation ensued after Leonard had already placed him in his bed. Perhaps simple, human curiosity...
It had been a deep warmth that seemed to penetrate and dismantle his chaotic thoughts. He had been stunned at the thick, heavy fog that enveloped him. Everything had been quiet, his thoughts and emotions as clear as they had been before the Narada. Too quickly it had ended and he found himself raging, reaching out to get it back.
He walked back to the immaculately made bed and rested on the edge. When he had awoke that morning, Leonard had already left for sickbay, a PADD with his instructions for the day sitting on the bedside table. Spock smiled inside as he recalled the doctor's words:
If you're reading this before 10:00, you're lucky I'm not there to hypospray you back to sleep. Take it easy today and get lots of rest. I left a list of high iron and protein meals for you to choose from. I'll be done my shift around 11:00 and then likely grab lunch with Jim. I'll be back and hounding you for 12:00. If you need me, you know where I am.
I hope you feel a little better today.
L
He would only privately admit that he had read Leonard's message more than once, although he had retained the information without hindrance the first time. He did not deny the developing emotions that progressed beyond simple friendship. Over the months, he found himself often thinking of Leonard while he was alone in his quarters and before he fell asleep. It was a very human reaction to a very human concept. He remembered the term as being called a 'crush'. I have developed a crush on Leonard. He smirked at the grammatical discrepancy.
While he intended to eventually reveal his new feelings to the doctor, he felt a sense of trepidation after the events of the Narada. His brow furrowed in concern. Would Leonard be weary of him after such an invasive examination? Would he reject a physically intimate relationship due to his encounter with Nero? Would he even entertain the idea a same-sex encounter?
The swoosh of the doors signalled Leonard's return. The fluttering in his abdomen hitched into his throat and he quickly reeled in his control. It would not do well to fawn like some adolescent human female. He stood to greet the other man.
"Sit down, you." McCoy deposited his medical bag on his desk and with a tricorder in hand, rounded on Spock, who was now reseated on the bed. Nothing appeared to be hindering Spock's healing for which he was thankful. Nodding, he set the device on the bed and turned to pull off his uniform shirt.
"So, how was your morning?" Rolling up the sleeves of his black under shirt, he strode back to Spock and sat next to him on the bed. He refused to name the pang in his chest as disappointment, when Spock shifted and put a few inches between them. Leaning forward he rested his elbows on his knees and frowned at the floor.
"I took the opportunity to read up on the post-mission logs and found no error with the reported data. I adequately followed your orders to rest, and meditated for a substantial period of time."
"And how did that go?" McCoy gave Spock the side-eye, watching his body language.
Spock paused, studying him for a short moment. "Not as well as I had hoped. Although, I had a most curious vision last night during sleep."
McCoy stood and walked to the replicator for a glass of water. Downing most of it in one gulp, he frantically tried to quell the nausea that lapped at his throat. "Listen..." he winced at the crack in his voice and turned to face Spock again, "I didn't mean for whatever happened...to happen. I don't even know what it was."
Spock's eyebrow rose slightly, perhaps in amusement, McCoy hoped. "Doctor, you misunderstand; I am not upset with you. I was exhausted and my mental shields were weakened from trauma. I am aware that you did not intend on invading my privacy, nor would you ever do it maliciously." The dark eyes watched him closely and McCoy suddenly felt cornered.
Swallowing, he replied: "I was...caught up...-" He felt his face flush and he scowled at the floor.He's not stable right now, how do I say 'I've wanted you for months?' Frustrated, he scratched through his hair and looked up. Spock continued to stare at him, his eyes smiling, each second melting McCoy's heart. Remembering what it was like being behind those eyes, consumed in blissful thoughts, a lump formed in his throat.
He cut through the silence with a rough voice, "I'm gonna take a shower."
Walking past Spock, he made his way to the bathroom. Angrily ripping off his clothes, he threw himself into the scalding water and choked out the breath he was holding. Closing his eyes, he desperately wished for confidence and strength. I don't even know what to do...
Feeling helpless, he slid down the slick wall and pulled his knees to his chest. Resting his head on his forearms, his thoughts began wandering.
Since he could remember, he had always known where his attractions were focused. While Earth was an open-minded and accepting society now, he had repressed the attraction to his gender, to anyone, and focused solely on his schooling. While his friends were experimenting with relationships, he was preparing for high school, university, medical school and residency. There was never any time to consider a relationship.
When he had met Jocelyn, he truly had fallen in love with her. Marrying her and having Joanna were decisions made out of the deepest love and devotion. He never wished that she was a male, and he never stepped out on her once. She was a perfect wife and mother; he was a perfect husband and father. However, she had come to him one day near the end and told him, in detail, what he had desperately hidden his entire life and that she had been seeing an old boyfriend. He had given her everything she wanted in the divorce, and refused to take Joanna away from her mother. When he had decided to join Starfleet, with Joanna's blessing of course, Jocelyn had promised him that he would never be denied access to their daughter. He was grateful that the messy divorce hadn't diminished their dignity when it came to their child.
But now there was no reason to continue denying himself. He longingly thought of Spock and his body trembled, starved and craving the feel of another male pressed against him. His heart ached and he allowed himself to imagine his reactions to sensations he had never felt.
Spock was standing on the other side of the doors, approximately five feet away. He moved to stand, the instant Leonard disappeared behind them and hadn't moved since. His brow was drawn in concern for his friend. There was a crackling on the edges of his consciousness, and unintelligible words that seemed to tease his senses.
He stepped forward and placed a hand on the door, focusing his thoughts. There was an empty silence before wisps of clarity began forming in his mind. He recognized the cognitive signature as Leonard's, and encouraged the stray emotions and thoughts toward his own. He was momentarily taken aback with a sudden wave of Leonard's internal musings. Circulating the emotions, he recognized shame, anger, and a deep, throbbing need that almost made him sick. Before long, he began hearing the thoughts that were playing companion to the feelings. They swirled into his mind's focus and Spock strained to hear them, '-our chess game last week...stand the sight of me after the Narada...the exam. -so lonely it's pathetic-'
The doors suddenly parted, a damp and startled doctor peering at him from under the towel draped over his hair. Spock, thankfully having had the grace to remove his hand in time, merely stood in silence. Leonard cleared his throat, "Is there...a problem?"
Weighing the options of broaching the subject of Leonard's emotional turmoil and the cause of it, he decided it would be best to wait until a more suitable moment. "No doctor, I apologise for startling you. I was simply waiting for you to finish bathing so I could utilize your facilities."
An eyebrow climbed slowly, the eyes squinting with suspicion. Spock chuckled inside at the slightly manic expression, of which he held a certain affection for. The body shifted and walked around him at a wide berth, "Knock yourself out."
Now standing in the slightly humid room, Spock explored his surroundings, pretending to be occupied. Shuffling idly through the doctor's toiletries proved less than insightful, not learning anything useful or significant about the target of his affections. Bringing an unidentified bottle of amber coloured liquid to his nose, he inhaled cautiously. He was pleased to note that it was a recognizable scent, often catching it when Leonard would walk past him or invade his personal space to rant silently in his face.
Smiling slightly, he meticulously positioned the item in its respective place and turned to exit. He was, for the second time, forced to suffer through the sight of a shamelessly half-nude doctor. He noted that Leonard was sitting at the small table with a steaming cup of what appeared to be coffee and a meal.
"Sit."
His brow twitched at the command, but he obeyed without protest. Eyeing the tray as it was pushed towards him, he anticipated another primitive order. When the mouth opened, he raised a hand and nodded minutely. At least this would distract him from the wide chest on display that he so wanted to explore.
"I looked into some of the files on Vulcan neurology that you gave me. Your cognitive symptoms are worrying me, they read too much like Bendii syndrome though you're about a century and a half too young for that."
Spock swallowed a portion of the meal, and regarded the doctor with an even tone, "I assure you, there is nothing to be concerned with. I believe I explained the issue yesterday."
The hazel eyes narrowed slightly, "Yeah, but how am I supposed to fix it?"
Blinking, he attempted to conjure up an adequate explanation, "It is with concentrated, deep meditation that this can be alleviated. I have begun to take the necessary steps."
"You said you were having some trouble with it."
Finishing off the small lunch, Spock studied the doctor carefully before replying, "It is a complicated process. However, in some cases of mental duress, a mind-meld with a family member or spouse has been known to advance the healing process."
Spock watched as the doctor scrubbed his face with a large hand, sighing as he spoke, "I won't contact Sarek." Relieved at Leonard's words, he nodded before the man continued, "But what about a friend? Jim has melded with your old-self, which is kind of the same thing. I accidentally mucked around in your head last night. I could do it, couldn't I?" Spock was startled to hear the slight hope in his friend's voice.
"Doctor...Leonard, I am honoured by your offer. However, it is...more complicated than simply 'mucking around' in one's head. It is a highly intimate-"
A hard, resolute voice interrupted him, "I know."
Silence settled over them and Spock would have squirmed under the dark glare of his friend, had he been fully human.
Anger unexpectedly flared within him. He raked his eyes over the audacious display of flesh and snarled. He offers himself so blatantly, it is almost obscene. Drawing on the doctor's inexperience in any aspect of same-sex courtship, he flagrantly disregarded the knowledge he had of the deep pain it caused the other man and replied coldly, "You lack the knowledge of what it is you offer so freely, nor do you possess the necessary...experience."
Shocked by his own cruelty, he immediately stood and gripped the edge of the small table, trying desperately to anchor himself. His face burned with shame, as he tentatively raised his eyes to the doctor's face, unsure of what he would find.
His brow knitted together, suddenly breathless as he spoke, "Leonard..."
The other man hadn't moved, still leaning into his chair and staring at Spock. The lips were drawn a little tighter together but there was no physical reaction from his crippling insult. Leonard cleared his throat, "I'm aware that you're fighting reactions beyond your control; maybe you should have a rest."
The doctor stood and walked around the table, making his way passed Spock. The scent of the amber substance he discovered in the bathroom filled in nose. Frantic, he reached out and grabbed the man's wrist, inhumane strength allowing him to pull Leonard within arm's reach and gripped the thick upper-arms.
"No, do not idly brush aside such...such disrespect. Your friendship and medical care is invaluable to me. Please, forgive me."
Spock was disappointed at the small, self-deprecating smile that formed on the doctor's face. "Spock, if you're fixin' to hurt me, you're gonna have to be a little more imaginative."
Spock gripped the flesh tighter when the doctor made to move away, "I did not-"
"Yes, you did." The eyes studied him, relaxed and calm. Spock was confused at this reaction. "Spock, I've already heard the worst-"
"It will not alleviate any of the regret or shame I feel to hear that I am not the first one to speak such inappropriate words to you." Swallowing thickly, his voice dropped significantly, "Nor will it excuse the fact that I violated your private thoughts, only to use the most sensitive against you in protest of your deeply thoughtful offer to assist me."
Noting the pink flush staining Leonard's face as he finished speaking, he let go of the stiff flesh. While the doctor composed himself, Spock turned and with a quick visual scan of the room, he spotted the drawer that contained an oddly patterned garment that Leonard had donned yesterday. Returning, he handed the shirt over to his friend, "I do not wish for you to become chilled. And...the sight of you in this state of undress is counterproductive to my cognitive refocusing."
The self-confidence seemed to slightly dissipate as the skin was now hidden from view, the fingers impatiently fumbling with an array of buttons. Grasping the hands with his own, he lead the doctor to his bed.
Spock pulled back the thick bedding, watching the doctor watch him. He sat on the edge and smoothed over the sheets with a hand, "Come."
Sliding underneath the cool sheets, he turned so he was facing Spock. He appreciated the handsome face, glad that the bruises were fading. When Spock made to move closer, he swallowed the lump of nerves that were bundled in his throat. The body twisted to lay next to him when suddenly, Spock winced, bringing a hand to cover his ribcage.
McCoy pulled himself up to lean on an elbow while he critiqued the other man, "Are you alright?" When Spock carefully arranged himself onto his back, he turned his face, dark eyes boring into hazel.
"Leonard, I believe we should converse as to clear up any misconceptions or misunderstanding."
McCoy swallowed and shifted onto his back, now staring at the ceiling. Still able to make out Spock's form in his peripheral vision, he noted that the other man was still staring at him.
"When we played chess last week...I wanted to tell you how I felt. Jim convinced me it was a good idea. I should have listened to him, but hell, when is Jim ever onto anything good." McCoy let the slight smile fade into a neutral expression as he waited for Spock to speak.
"And how do you feel?" The voice was, as usual, even and controlled, putting his own rough, cracked tone to shame.
He rolled his eyes, making a face at the ceiling. "Are you serious?"
"Vulcans are never anything but serious, doctor." McCoy turned his head just in time to see the laughter in the dark eyes fading. Beautiful. Brow crinkling, he looked back to the ceiling.
"You know how I feel. You were there in my head with your Vulcan voodoo."
"On the contrary, doctor-"
"Christ almighty...." Scowling, he sighed and continued, "I feel... good when I'm with you." Damning his adolescent choice of words and the heat that flooded his face, he bid farewell to his dignity and went on, "And whenever we hang out, and then you leave...I feel frantic because I want you to stay. I'm afraid something will go wrong on this hell-ship, and I won't see you tomorrow. I'm always afraid you'll end up...on the slab in my sickbay. I worry about everyone that way, but...with you..." He trailed off, trying to think of something both simple and profound...Failing, he settled with: "I just want you around...for a long time. After the Narada, I-" Gagging on his words, he shuddered out a groan, whispering, "I'm sorry I had to do it so soon, and you weren't able to wash up, but you can't or there's loss of DNA and-" His panicked ramblings were halted by the hot skin of Spock's fingertips along his forehead, now sinking into the deep, soothing sensation of them trailing down his face.
I know you're out of sorts right now, and I should wait for a better moment than this, but you're all I've wanted for months. It was all I could do not to beam you to my quarters the moment you appeared on the transporter pad and take care of you here. I didn't want to touch you, not like that.
A quiet voice lulled in his mind: I would have protested such an illogical decision. You have been an exemplary friend and physician to me, for which I am grateful. And my own...intimate thoughts-Spock broke off as their shared moment was slashed apart by the vulgar image of Nero's tattooed face and the crippling sensation of being asphyxiated. Spock frantically tried to reel himself in enough to remove his hand from Leonard's forehead, not wanting to subject him to such pain.
A large hand suddenly grasped his own, holding it close against the forehead. He shuddered as Leonard pushed against his mental shields, demanding to be let through. Barely hanging on, they relented and he was immediately enveloped in Leonard's conscious. Strange, exotic aromas, spicy flavours, heavy, foreign air, and as much as he tried, he could not identify the strange manifestations. A whisper swirled in his mind, I've got you.
Thankful, but desperate to cut their connection, Spock made to pull his hand, and his thoughts, from the doctor. Anger surged through the link, and he felt a strong arm curl around his waist before being held tightly against the cool, broad skin of Leonard's side. His mind exploded with the images and sensations Leonard was projecting. Dark, earthy colours pulsed around him, the scents he recalled from last night, filling his nostrils. He whispered through their link, Thank you.
Spock was absorbed in the delicious sensations, and ran his fingers underneath the half-open garment, then through the soft, dark hair splayed across the doctor's chest. Pleased to hear the contented moan, he could feel the hunger, the depth of need was staggering now that he was so close. Feeling Leonard recoil at the sharing of the emotions he had exploited, he expertly retracted himself from the dark paradise.
Spock put a more appropriate distance between them and regarded the man he hoped to take as his mate, "It was illogical to assume, that I did not reciprocate similar affections for you."
Leonard paused before regarding his answer, "But...Lieutenant Uhura..." The voice trailed off, uncertain and hesitant.
"Gender is irrelevant."
Again, Leonard paused, no doubt in an attempt to analyse his words when there was clearly no analysis required.
The confused response came shortly after, "...What?"
"The ending of my relationship with Nyota was due to an incompatibility that could not be rectified. Therefore, there was no need to continue on with a sexual relationship as it would be severely lacking in substance. Vulcans do not simply subject themselves to rudimentary pleasures of a specified gender. There are many other factors that delegate the taking of a mate."
The next statement made him flush, mortified. "I thought you only took mates during Pon Farr."
"While this is a true assessment, Vulcans do experience the desire for physical intimacy outside the parameters of Pon Farr. Additionally, I have always been encouraged to explore my humanity, of which includes human mating rituals."
McCoy swallowed, now nervous and unsure. "How do you know I'm a suitable mate?"
"The short amount of time that I have shared your conscious, has confirmed my previous hopes."
Unable to stop himself from fading in and out of his daydream of melding with Spock, he struggled to form words. The haze was intoxicating and he wanted nothing more than to spend eternity in Spock's mind. It was perfection.
"Leonard?" He was warmed by the concern in Spock's normally even, emotionless tone.
"I'm fine. Just a little dazed." Sitting up, he gazed down at the Vulcan splayed on his bed. Folding a leg to his chest, he lazily rested his arm on his knee. "Spock...I don't know how to do this. I've never...well again, you know." Damning himself for so many years of self repression, he scowled at the heat flaring across his face. "This is horrifyingly awkward."
"You do not need to feel uncomfortable in my presence." A hand crept passed his thigh to the loosely rested hand on his knee. Two pale fingers curled around his own and pulled them closer to the other man. McCoy watched closely as the fingers idly stroked the length of both his index and middle finger. Curious, he now watched Spock's face as he reciprocated the action, amused at the green that suddenly stained the pale cheeks. His voice was rough and quiet, "What is this?"
The fingers faltered a little in their caressing as Spock answered, "This is how Vulcans show their affections toward one another. It is the equivalent of a Human kiss."
Unsurprised that the Vulcans would come up with such a minute gesture for intimacy, he was rather surprised at how much he enjoyed it. There was something innocent, yet deeply sensual about it, something that filled him with hope and promise. The idea that Spock would initiate such an act with him, helped scatter his doubt in himself.
"Computer, dim lights to eighty percent. Increase temperature by five degrees."
Sliding back down under the sheets, he shifted to face Spock and pulled the fabric over him as well. He let his eyes close, relaxing as their fingers found each other once more.
TBC
*Let me know of any needed corrections or suggestions for the next chapter :)*.
Chapter five