Fic: When In Rome (1/?)
Title: When In Rome (1/?)
Pairing: Jim/Spock/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex, angst and snark.
Universe: TOS.
Summary: The angsty aftermath of one particularly nasty away mission.
A/N: After watching Bread and Circuses (for about the fifteenth time), my broken brain was insisting on this story, and I know better to argue with the plot bunnies.
Edit: Although I do intend to finish this at some point, I am currently on exchange in Asia, and what more I've written for this story is on an external hard drive on the other side of the world. To those of you who hate starting WIPs, this will likely not be finished until July - and to those of you who have already asked for more of this, my sincere apologies for the delay. <3
- - -
Looking more lost than Leonard can ever remember, Spock turns away and stares through the prison bars, a perfect image of desolation. His heart stuck somewhere around his throat, Leonard rests a hesitant hand against Spock’s shoulder, and breathes a tiny sigh of relief when it isn’t shoved away.
- - -
Leonard is resting against the wall, one leg curled up to his body, the solid concrete an unforgiving pressure behind him. His world is trying to spin out of control, and he’s not just thinking about their fight in the arena, or the fact that Jim has been taken somewhere, with nothing they can do to help him.
It’s the Vulcan in front of him that’s truly freaking him out, as Spock somehow takes a horrible predicament and makes it even worse.
After their experience with pon farr was over, Leonard had thought he would never again see a display of pure emotion, some instinctive reaction that defied everything logical - but Spock is curling his fingers around the metal bars, trying to twist them free with his bare hands, and the sight is so impossible it makes Leonard’s head ache.
So much for that famous Vulcan logic.
When Spock all but slams himself into the bars, Leonard swallows down a grin, incapable of dealing with Spock self-destructing in front of him, but morbidly amused nonetheless.
“Angry, Mr. Spock? Or, frustrated, perhaps?”
Spock stiffens slightly at his words, his hands curling tighter around the bars, and Leonard is surprised by how much he wants to press his own hands against those tense shoulders. “Such emotions are foreign to me, Doctor. I am simply testing the strength of these bars.”
It’s the lousiest excuse Leonard has heard in months, and he can’t stop a smirk, knowing that Spock is lying through his Vulcan teeth.
“For the fifteenth time.”
Spock carefully ignores him, and Leonard watches as he studies the door’s hinges, sliding his fingers along the concrete wall. It’s as though Spock expects to find a weak spot, and Leonard knows that the chances of his success are quite against them.
He doesn’t quite like to think of their odds, actually. It is entirely probable that they will spend a few days suffering in this cell, before being thrown back into the arena, where some professional gladiator will rip them apart, leaving them in pieces on the arena floor.
Almost-certain-death scenarios tend to bring out the best or worst in people, and Leonard has experienced enough of them to know that he’s no exception. For all of their bickering, Leonard has no delusions about his feelings for Spock - against all good judgement, he long ago managed to fall for Spock’s infuriating brand of affection, and he doesn’t want them to die without making some kind of peace.
With an irritated sigh, sick of watching Spock struggle with the prison door, Leonard hesitantly gets to his feet, hoping he can find the right words.
“Spock, uh... I know we’ve had our disagreements.” This is a colossal understatement, but Spock doesn’t correct him, and Leonard decides to plough forward. “Maybe they’re jokes - I dunno. As Jim says, we’re often not sure ourselves sometimes.”
Spock is still not looking at him, though Leonard can’t decide whether he’s avoiding his gaze, or simply studying the prison bars.
“But, uh, what I’m trying to say is -”
“Doctor. I am seeking a means of escape. Would you please be brief.”
It is a command instead of a request, and Leonard should be annoyed, but he can only grin, because it is such a quintessentially Spock thing to say, and the familiar words are comforting as their world falls apart.
“Well, what I’m trying to say is, you saved my life in the arena.”
Although the words take quite a bit to get out, and he suddenly feels more vulnerable than he has in ages, Spock simply looks at him, his eyebrows registering nothing but confusion. “Yes, that’s quite true.”
His voice is toneless, his expression utterly impassive, and Leonard feels a choking mixture of hatred and mindless affection surge through him, stripping away any chance he had of controlling his words -
“I’m trying to thank you, you pointed-eared hobgoblin!”
His words reverberate around the cell, lacing the air with far too much emotion, but Spock simply frowns at him, as though trying to puzzle out a particularly tricky math equation. “Ah yes. You humans have that emotional need to express gratitude. ‘You’re welcome’, I believe, is the correct response.”
Spock moves past him, going to work on the bars on the other side of the door, and Leonard can do nothing but stare, shocked that Spock is still trying to pull this shit, even when he’s practically tearing down the prison with his bare hands.
“However, Doctor, you must remember that I am entirely motivated by logic.” Spock is wrapping his hands around the bars, as though they hold all the answers to escape. “The loss of our ship’s surgeon, whatever I may think of his relative skill, would mean a reduction in the efficiency of the Enterprise, and therefore -”
It’s like someone flicks a switch in his brain, and Leonard absolutely, fucking loses it.
In half a second, Spock is slammed against the wall, Leonard’s hands digging into his bony shoulders, the cloth-covered skin indenting under his merciless fingers. Leonard thinks he sees the tiniest hint of surprise in Spock’s eyes, but he couldn’t have stopped himself for anything in the world.
“You know why you’re not afraid to die, Spock?” He can hear the blinding rage in his voice, and his fingers tighten against Spock’s shoulders, still aiming to leave marks. “You’re more afraid of living.”
He had never planned to do this - had never planned to push Spock this far - but when Spock goes impossibly still beneath his hands, Leonard feels a sickening sense of victory, and the words keep coming. He knows that he’s being cruel, but Spock has been driving him crazy for three years, and Leonard suddenly can’t give a fuck about Spock’s feelings, wanting him to be as vulnerable as Leonard has felt since Spock strutted into his life.
“Each day you stay alive is just one more day you might slip, and let your human half peek out.”
Tension dancing along every inch of his body, Spock simply stares at him, no longer capable of finding the words to he needs to defend himself. There is a world of pain twisting through his eyes, silently pleading with Leonard to stop, and Leonard falters for a moment, trying to remind himself that this is what he wanted -
But when Spock turns away, staring straight ahead and motionless enough to be a statue, that sick sense of victory again curls through Leonard.
“That’s it, isn’t it. Insecurity.”
He has finally managed to slam through Spock’s barriers - has ripped open Spock’s greatest fears, rendering his logic completely useless - and he’s not about to let this opportunity slide. He knows that nothing terrifies Spock more than his ability to feel, and the quietly devastated expression on his face is the most horrified Leonard has ever seen.
“Why, you wouldn’t know what to do with a genuine, warm, decent feeling.”
The words have long passed malicious cruelty, but after watching Spock try to pull the prison down around them, Leonard can’t deal with Spock pretending to feel nothing for Jim. For all the times Spock has tried to give his life in Jim’s defence - for all the nights they have spent playing chess - for all the times that Spock has let Jim into his personal space, past that almost-visible barrier he wears around everyone else -
“Really, Doctor.”
They are the first words Spock has spoken during the entire exchange, and they’re painfully easy to interpret, as clearly as though Spock had shouted them -
I am trying to tear this prison down around us. Do you truly believe that I feel nothing?
Leonard swallows hard, suddenly disgusted with himself, and wonders what Jim would say about this hateful exchange.
“I know. I’m worried about Jim too.”
Looking more lost than Leonard can ever remember, Spock turns away and stares through the prison bars, a perfect image of desolation. His heart stuck somewhere around his throat, Leonard rests a hesitant hand against Spock’s shoulder, and breathes a tiny sigh of relief when it isn’t shoved away.
“Spock.”
Spock eventually turns back to him, and although his expression remains unchanged, those all-too-human eyes somehow make him look completely shattered. “If you have anything else to say, Doctor, I suggest you save it for another time.”
Spock has never sounded as broken as he does right now, and it leaves Leonard shaking, realizing that he’s done this to him. He has reduced Spock to this all-too-human level, and he doubts that Spock will want anything to do with him after this -
But fuck if he’s going to bail now.
“Look, I’m sorry. I just -”
“I am not interested. You have made your point.”
Spock climbs to his feet, crosses to the other side of the prison, and sits with his back to Leonard, more motionless than any living creature should be. Something unpleasant twisting through his stomach, Leonard stares at Spock’s tight shoulders for a moment, before he curses himself and turns back to the prison bars, realising that he doesn’t have a prayer of talking to Spock now.
- - -
“Jim, do you have any idea how much you mean to Spock?”
They have just returned from their excursion to that hellish planet, and Jim and Leonard are sharing a drink in Jim’s quarters, trying to relax after their unpleasant brush with death. Leonard has been meaning to have this conversation for awhile, and now seems like a fitting time. After what they have been through, he is far too aware of how fragile their lives are.
Jim frowns at him, as though he doesn’t quite understand the question. “Well, I know that he’s… fond of me, in his own way, and that he respects me as his captain.”
It is unsurprising that Leonard suddenly wants to bang Jim’s head against the desk.
“Other than that, though -”
“I know you’re not that blind.” Leonard pauses for a second, trying to figure out exactly what he wants to say. “When we were imprisoned, and we didn’t know what had happened to you, he was a mess.”
Jim raises his eyebrows at him, an almost comical expression, and Leonard fights down a surge of affection, knowing that now is not the time. Although he has been in love with Jim for far too long - since they were both a bit younger, and Jim had still been full of hope for the future - he had long ago accepted that he was always going to love his captain, but only from a distance.
Spock, though… what he feels for Spock is completely different.
“In what way, Bones?”
Leonard banishes the depressing thoughts, remembering how Spock had wrapped his hands around the prison bars, as though he could actually pull them free.
“He was trying to rip down the door with his bare hands.”
Leonard takes a drink to cover his sudden nervousness, and watches as Jim’s eyes flash towards him. “Was he really?”
Jim is trying to restrain his reaction, but Leonard knows him too well for that. “Yeah, Jim, he was - and don’t act like that doesn’t mean something to you.” He gnaws on his lip, remembering how desperately Spock had needed to get out of that cage. “I’ve never seen him like that.”
Jim exhales softly, and takes another sip of his drink.”He wanted to escape from you that badly?”
“Asshole.” There’s still some affection in the word, but Leonard glares at him, not seeing any humour in this situation. “He wanted to rescue you that badly. Can you find any logic in trying to pull apart metal with your bare hands?”
“No, I suppose I can’t.” Jim is still aiming for nonchalance. “He is half-Human, though - perhaps he was having an off day.”
Jim is being deliberately obtuse, playing the same avoidance game he’s been playing for years, and Leonard’s irritation suddenly morphs into true anger.
“Goddamnit, Jim, stop making jokes, and actually listen to me!”
Jim immediately freezes, his drink halfway to his mouth.
“That goblin cares more about you than he does anyone else in this world, and you’re too blind to see it!” Leonard is almost yelling, but he can’t bring himself to care, needing to get this through Jim’s thick skull. “He’d do anything for you, and not just because you’re his captain - how can you not know that?”
Leonard is halfway out of his chair by now, but Jim puts a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place.
“I know it, Bones. I just don’t know what to do about it.”
Leonard exhales slowly at the lost tone, and seats himself again. When Jim looks at him helplessly, Leonard places a hand on top of his, trying to find something convincing to say. He comes up short, and they sit in silence for a long moment, Leonard’s thoughts running crazy circles in his head, as he tries to make sense of what’s happening.
For all that he has been in love with Jim for years, Leonard has been in… something, with Spock, since about their thirtieth argument, when he told Spock to shut up, and Spock’s lips had actually twitched at him. It’s absolutely ridiculous, but Leonard can’t stop himself from caring about the jackass, who alternates between making him laugh and driving him crazy.
“Bones?”
There is obvious unease in Jim’s eyes, and Leonard pulls his thoughts back to the present, reminding himself that this is the way things need to be. It may make him a selfless and masochistic idiot, but it’s obvious who Spock needs, and Leonard refuses to stand in the way of what Jim and Spock could have.
“Jim,” he says softly, the words pulled from somewhere deep inside, “I’ve been watching you watch him for three years. Isn’t that long enough?”
Jim seems to stop breathing.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I know you better than anyone.”
Jim’s fingers are digging into his by now, and Leonard winces at the pain there. “So, what would you have me do, then?” There is an almost hysterical tone there, and Jim closes his eyes, as though completely unable to deal with this. “Bring him flowers and ask him to marry me? He’s my second in command!”
“Yeah, he is.” Leonard soothingly rubs his fingers across the top of Jim’s hand, hoping to convey some measure of calm. “He also loves you, in his prickly Vulcan way - and a lot of people spend their entire lives searching for something like that.”
Jim is staring at him wide-eyed, and Leonard tries to smile, their hands still resting together, the touch somehow scalding.
“For a novel concept, why don’t you try talking to him?”
Jim just stares at him some more, before tightening his grip on Leonard’s hand. “Surely,” he says softly, an obvious ache in his voice, “Surely you know he’s not the only person I -”
“Jim, no - don’t do this.” Leonard’s chest is suddenly tight, and he tries to sound anything but rattled, frightened by how much he doesn’t want to have this conversation. “I said no, and I stand by that. You’re my best friend.”
His voice is shaky, though, and Leonard curses himself, knowing that his protest was far from convincing. Jim gives him that wide-eyed stare - the one that makes him look like a kicked puppy. “And yet, you’re the one who’s going on about how people spend their entire lives -”
“Alright, alright!” Leonard abruptly stands and turns away, trying to breathe through the panic that’s trying to make itself known. “You want to have this conversation, fine - but it’s a bad fucking idea.”
“And why is that?”
Jim is on his feet now, and Leonard feels hands on his shoulders, turning him back around. He steadies himself against Jim’s arms, and watches as far too many emotions play across Jim’s face, everything clearly reflected in his eyes.
“How long have we known each other?”
Leonard swallows hard, his mind travelling back to the first day he stepped aboard this Starship. “Three years, some odd number of months.”
“Three years.” Jim is trying to stare him down, his fingers digging into Leonard’s shirt sleeve. “Three goddamn years, Bones, and I’ve spent a good two and a half of them wanting more. Isn’t that long enough to wait?”
He’s throwing Leonard’s own words back at him, and Leonard wants to kick him.
“What makes you think that I -”
“Alright, fine.” There is a clear challenge in Jim’s eyes. “You stand here, you jackass, and tell me that you don’t feel the same way - that you miraculously got over me, somewhere along the line - and I might actually try to believe you.”
Leonard feels the fight drain from his body, and he has to lean against the wall. He doesn’t say anything, but they both know that he doesn’t have to, and Jim exhales sharply as he steps back, running his hand over his eyes.
“Goddamnit, Bones -”
“So what if I still love you.” Feeling beaten, Leonard doesn’t try to censor his words, and Jim’s eyes flick back to him, a dangerous gleam there. “We’ve dealt with it for this long. We can keep -”
“Sometimes it hurts just to look at you.”
Leonard feels himself flush, his stomach twisting with pleasure at the words.
“If this is the only life we get, I don’t want us to spend it like this.”
Jim carefully takes his hands again, the touch sending sparks along his senses, and Leonard closes his eyes, trying to remind himself that this is a bad idea. The fact that Jim is his best friend and commanding officer - the knowledge that Spock is so impossibly in love with Jim, he quite probably hates himself over it -
“You can’t have both of us.”
“Why not?”
Leonard’s eyes fly open, his fingers tightening against Jim’s hands. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“It could, though.” There’s an almost feverish gleam to Jim’s eyes, as if he’s been holding this in for far too long. “I need you both in my life. I’d be lost without you - as a captain, and as a person. I can’t do this alone.”
Leonard is terrified to realize that he’s running out of arguments. He tries to speak, then shakes his head, still holding tight to Jim’s hands. “Jim -”
“You know how close we came to be slaughtered down there. Do you really want to keep fucking around with what we have left of our lives?”
Leonard breathes out an uneven sigh, and shakes his head, realizing how much he agrees with what Jim is saying - even if he can’t think of anything more disastrous than a captain taking up with both his first officer and CMO.
Leonard tries to find something to say, and ends up just staring at Jim, who manages a tiny smile, and tugs gently on Leonard’s hands. “Look, Bones, it would be impossible for me to stop loving you - you’ve gotta believe that. This isn’t something we would just fuck up.”
Years of denial are slipping away with impressive speed, and Leonard knows that there’s no going back after this. His stomach and his heart are dancing a painful tango within his body, reminding him of how much he’s wanted this.
“You really are serious.”
Jim’s eyes light up hopefully, as though Leonard has just promised him the world, and Leonard feels like he’s standing too close to a supernova, with Jim’s sudden hope an almost tangible sensation.
“You know this is a bad idea -”
When soft fingers trail against his cheek, drawing tiny lines of heat against his skin, Leonard bites off his words and closes his eyes, fighting down a stupid prickle of tears. After years of wanting this, his entire body is shaking, and he has absolutely no chance of saying no. “But you and Spock -”
“You want him as much as I do, Bones. I’ve been watching you watch him, too.”
Leonard stares at him, absolutely terrified, wondering if they actually have a chance of making this work, but Jim’s eyes are ridiculously warm, and the need there is stripping away his restraint.
“Alright.”
His voice sounds broken to his own ears, and he opens his eyes to find that Jim is still staring, the intensity in that gaze enough to take Leonard apart - and then their lips gently brush together, as Leonard makes a rather embarrassing sound, and the simple touch sends a firestorm along his skin, tearing down the last of his desperate defences. He blindly slides his hands against Jim’s hips, trying to pull them closer together, feeling the way Jim’s fingers are trembling against his shoulders -
“Captain, I was wondering -”
The door to Jim’s quarters has slid open, and Spock is suddenly standing there, looking like someone has smacked him across the face. Leonard’s stomach plummets as they break apart, and the sudden guilt in Jim’s expression is painful to look at.
“I - you had insisted that I no longer need ask permission to enter -”
Spock has disbelief written across every inch of him, and Leonard reminds himself to breathe, feeling like his world has suddenly dropped out from under him. Jim looks like a cornered animal, and Leonard gently pushes him away, his mind racing for a way to fix this.
“Spock,” he begins softly, remembering the lost look on his face when they had both been trapped in this prison, with no way of knowing if Jim was alive. “This isn’t how we -”
“Please, Doctor - your explanation is unnecessary.” Spock has never talked to him like that - like Leonard is scum beneath his boots - and the well-muted pain there is more than Leonard can handle. “I apologize for interrupting.”
There is not a twitch across that dangerously impassive face, but Spock still looks like someone has brought his entire universe down around him, and Leonard’s voice gets strangled somewhere, rendering him incapable of arguing. Spock stares at him a moment longer, before turning to leave, and Jim finally reacts, leaping forward to grab Spock by the sleeve.
“Wait -”
“Jim, please cease this.” Spock’s tone barely changes, but Leonard doesn’t miss the sadness twisting through his eyes. “There is no reason for me to be here.”
Leonard suddenly feels nauseous. When Spock tries to leave again, Jim grabs at his arm, seeming unable to find any words, as though just pawing at him will get Spock to stay, and Leonard abruptly realizes that they will get nowhere like this.
“Stop it, both of you!” Spock turns to not-quite-glare at him, and Jim looks like he wants the floor to fall out from under him. “Can’t we sit down and talk about this?”
“There is nothing for me to discuss -”
“Like hell there isn’t!”
The world as Leonard knows it has just come to a grinding halt, but he’s going to do his damndest to make sense of where they suddenly are, even if that means having a yelling match of epic proportions. He takes a calming breath before continuing, knowing that raising his voice will only make Spock leave faster.
"Spock, I’ve been on dozens of missions with you - and I have never seen you like that."
He is expecting at least some kind of response, but Spock remains perfectly silent, and Leonard can't stop a frustrated sound, wanting to know if he's getting through. Jim, however, is glancing between them, a tiny bit of hope creeping into his eyes.
"It’s alright, you know." Their captain takes a step closer, as though finally remembering how to use his legs. "We both freak out when something happens to you. It's normal."
Leonard doesn't even try to argue, remembering how he'd felt when Spock had undertaken what was almost certainly a suicide mission, willing to destroy himself to save all of their lives.
"Perhaps for you, Captain," Spock says softly, the tiniest hint of anger showing in the tightness of his lips. "I, however, have never been normal, whether by Vulcan or Human standards, and I cannot have pointless human sentiments impeding my ability to protect this ship, or compromising my aptitude for rational decision."
Spock's voice is creeping dangerously close to its customary impassiveness, and Leonard glances at Jim, who shrugs helplessly in return. With a sharp inhale of annoyance, Leonard frowns at them both, trying to figure out what will convince Spock to trust them - because he really doesn't want to spend the rest of his life playing the what-if game.
"Spock, we almost died down there - all of us. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"I cannot afford to feel concern whenever one of you is injured."
"Well, what if one of us is killed, then?" Leonard sees the miniscule flinch, but he makes no attempt to stop playing dirty. "How do you think you'd deal with that, if you can't even accept how freaked out you were when Jim was captured?"
"Doctor -"
"He's got a point." Jim has jumped in, and Leonard takes a moment to be grateful for the support. "We know how fragile life is up here. We’re all lucky to still be alive.”
Leonard holds his breath as Spock silently stares at Jim, his expression unreadable. It's like someone has slipped a mask over his already impassive face, and Leonard knows that this is Spock's way of overcompensating, his last attempt to hold himself together. He has seen this mask before - on the day that Spock thought he had murdered his captain.
“Contemplating the dangers of our occupation is useless.” Spock has suddenly started to edge towards the door, his voice much too steady for Leonard’s liking, and Leonard feels his anger suddenly come to a raging boil. “If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I am not needed here, and I have a project that must -“
“If you walk out of this room now, you’re the biggest coward I know!” There’s a dangerous flash to Spock’s eyes, but Leonard doesn’t stop, suddenly too angry to be tactful. “When you want something, you’re supposed to fight for it! I’ve seen the way you look at Jim - did you really think we were both blind?”
Spock goes dangerously still, an expression of unfettered panic finally twisting across his face; and although Leonard has seen Spock frightened in the past, nothing before has ever compared to this terrifying stillness - he looks like his entire universe has just been shattered into a thousand broken pieces, his eyes fixed almost helplessly on Jim’s face, all the colour suddenly drained from his skin.
“Jim - I do not - I ask that you -”
Helplessly trying to defend himself, Spock is actually stumbling all over his words, and the impossible sight makes Leonard realize that his brash accusation of love has crumbled what was left of Spock’s defences. When Spock makes a pained noise and closes his eyes, apparently giving up on trying to argue something inarguable, their captain takes a cautious step towards him.
“Don’t leave.” It’s the first coherent thing Jim had managed to say, and his voice wavers a bit, the words sounding like they were dragged from deep inside. “Please don’t go.”
Now Spock is the one who looks like a cornered animal. He opens his eyes to stare at them both, every inch of him radiating enough tension to power a starship, and Leonard takes a deep breath, hoping they can make this work.
"Spock, come on. Give us a chance."
Leonard’s voice is loud in the silence of the room, and he glances at Jim, who exhales softly and rests a hesitant hand against Spock's arm. When Spock visibly stiffens at the contact, Leonard suddenly wonders if they can actually do this, if it's right to push Spock this far, when it’s clear that he’s more terrified of these feelings than anything else in the universe -
"I cannot do this."
As though reading Leonard’s mind, Spock's uneven voice is soft, almost inaudible, and Leonard watches as Jim's hand tightens against Spock's arm, obviously afraid to let him go. His heart beating out of his chest, Leonard finds himself reaching out to do the same, curling his fingers against Spock's elbow.
"Why not?"
Spock's expression might as well have been carved from stone. His eyes, though - those all-too-human eyes are darting between them, clearly visible panic lurking there.
"Neither of you understand what you are asking of me. I cannot give you what you need."
Leonard stares at Spock, his mind turning the words in circles, and then suddenly clues in.
Spock thinks he's not good enough for us. Not human enough. Incapable of giving us anything in return.
The thought slams into his mind with perfect clarity, and, from the expression on his face, Jim has had the same realization. His brown eyes are wide, but his lips are twisted in a familiar look of calm determination. It’s a look many aliens have seen, right before they realized that they didn’t have a chance.
"We want you as you are, Spock. Not someone you can't be."
Leonard nods his agreement, but Spock shakes his head and almost stumbles backwards, freeing himself from their grasp, the broken contact leaving Leonard’s fingers aching. Jim’s mouth twists a little further, obvious hurt flashing across his face, and Spock looks more shaken than Leonard has ever seen.
“Spock -”
Spock cuts Jim off with another curt shake of his head, and Jim visibly deflates, his shoulders slumping in defeat. After taking another uneasy step back, his fearful gaze darting between them, Spock turns and exits the room, leaving them to face a painfully loud silence.
“Well, that went well.”
He mutters the sarcastic words before he can think, and Jim shoots him a reproachful look, most of the colour gone from his face. Feeling something in his heart twist, Leonard sighs softly and places his hand against Jim’s arm, drawing his fingers across the soft fabric.
“Give him time.”
“I can’t afford to lose him.”
Leonard knows that Jim is talking both professionally and personally, and he steps a little closer, relieved when Jim leans in towards him, his arm sliding around his waist. They’re both still staring at the closed door, as though it can somehow give them the answers they need, and Leonard draws Jim away, guiding him to the bed and gently sitting him down.
“Are you on duty any time soon?”
“Not for another eight hours.”
Jim still seems a little dazed, and Leonard stifles another sigh, reaching down to pull Jim’s feet onto his lap, kneeling in front of him. He starts to work on the boot laces, and though Jim looks at him oddly, Leonard forces down a blush as he throws the boots to the floor.
“Under the covers. You’re not going on duty until you’ve had some sleep.”
“Ever the doctor.”
There’s nothing but fondness in Jim’s words, some of the colour finally returning to his face, and Leonard manages a tiny smile. As he steps back, Jim gets to his feet and pulls the blankets back, and Leonard suddenly remembers how good it felt to have those hands on his skin.
“Stay with me?”
After twelve years together, Leonard knows Jim better than he knows himself, and he can see the well-muted need in those dark eyes. He ignores Jim’s obvious relief as he pulls off his own boots, before going to lock Jim’s door, and sliding into bed beside him, suddenly and painfully aware of how awkward this could become.
“Jim -”
“Stop worrying, Bones. It’s only me.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
His grumble is laced with unease, and there’s a good inch of space between them, making Leonard suddenly feel like he’s sixteen again, lying in a hayfield with his first crush, keep a solid safe zone between them. That space disappears as Jim dims the lights, and moves a little closer, bumping his shoulder against Leonard’s.
“Would it - could you -”
His heart trying to ache out of his chest, Leonard rolls onto his side and props himself up on an elbow, barely able to see Jim’s face in the semi-darkness. When Jim can’t quite seem to find the words he needs, obvious frustration stealing across his shadowed features, Leonard bites back his nerves and slides closer, gently turning Jim onto his side, and pressing himself against his back.
“This alright?”
It’s like two pieces of a puzzle finally, finally snapping together, after years of denied yearning, and he can hear his nervous drawl sneaking through as he wraps his arms around Jim, but Jim simply exhales shakily and presses himself closer, his fingers curling around Leonard’s arms.
“How do you always know what I’m thinking?”
His voice is just shy of a whisper, and Leonard feels himself grin helplessly against Jim’s hair, the entire situation suddenly feeling unreal. Every inch of him seems to have caught fire, and he slowly drags his fingers across Jim’s arms, simply enjoying the chance to be this close.
“Result of spending years chasing you around the galaxy.”
Jim doesn’t say anything, but he seems to relax slightly, and Leonard lets his eyes drift closed. When the image of Spock’s retreating back flashes across his mind, he firmly shoves it away, and concentrates solely on the man in his arms. They’ve shared a bed before, far too many times to count, but they’re never shared it like this, and Leonard firmly shoves his arousal into some distant part of his mind, knowing that what Jim needs more than anything is rest.
“Get some sleep, Jim. I’m not going anywhere.”
Leonard finally has what he’s wanted for longer than he cares to admit, and there will be time to talk to Spock later. For now, he’s securely wrapped around his best friend, and he plans to forget for awhile that the rest of the world exists.
- - -
Part Two - http://twisting-vine-x.livejournal.com/187365.html#cutid1
Pairing: Jim/Spock/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex, angst and snark.
Universe: TOS.
Summary: The angsty aftermath of one particularly nasty away mission.
A/N: After watching Bread and Circuses (for about the fifteenth time), my broken brain was insisting on this story, and I know better to argue with the plot bunnies.
Edit: Although I do intend to finish this at some point, I am currently on exchange in Asia, and what more I've written for this story is on an external hard drive on the other side of the world. To those of you who hate starting WIPs, this will likely not be finished until July - and to those of you who have already asked for more of this, my sincere apologies for the delay. <3
- - -
Looking more lost than Leonard can ever remember, Spock turns away and stares through the prison bars, a perfect image of desolation. His heart stuck somewhere around his throat, Leonard rests a hesitant hand against Spock’s shoulder, and breathes a tiny sigh of relief when it isn’t shoved away.
- - -
Leonard is resting against the wall, one leg curled up to his body, the solid concrete an unforgiving pressure behind him. His world is trying to spin out of control, and he’s not just thinking about their fight in the arena, or the fact that Jim has been taken somewhere, with nothing they can do to help him.
It’s the Vulcan in front of him that’s truly freaking him out, as Spock somehow takes a horrible predicament and makes it even worse.
After their experience with pon farr was over, Leonard had thought he would never again see a display of pure emotion, some instinctive reaction that defied everything logical - but Spock is curling his fingers around the metal bars, trying to twist them free with his bare hands, and the sight is so impossible it makes Leonard’s head ache.
So much for that famous Vulcan logic.
When Spock all but slams himself into the bars, Leonard swallows down a grin, incapable of dealing with Spock self-destructing in front of him, but morbidly amused nonetheless.
“Angry, Mr. Spock? Or, frustrated, perhaps?”
Spock stiffens slightly at his words, his hands curling tighter around the bars, and Leonard is surprised by how much he wants to press his own hands against those tense shoulders. “Such emotions are foreign to me, Doctor. I am simply testing the strength of these bars.”
It’s the lousiest excuse Leonard has heard in months, and he can’t stop a smirk, knowing that Spock is lying through his Vulcan teeth.
“For the fifteenth time.”
Spock carefully ignores him, and Leonard watches as he studies the door’s hinges, sliding his fingers along the concrete wall. It’s as though Spock expects to find a weak spot, and Leonard knows that the chances of his success are quite against them.
He doesn’t quite like to think of their odds, actually. It is entirely probable that they will spend a few days suffering in this cell, before being thrown back into the arena, where some professional gladiator will rip them apart, leaving them in pieces on the arena floor.
Almost-certain-death scenarios tend to bring out the best or worst in people, and Leonard has experienced enough of them to know that he’s no exception. For all of their bickering, Leonard has no delusions about his feelings for Spock - against all good judgement, he long ago managed to fall for Spock’s infuriating brand of affection, and he doesn’t want them to die without making some kind of peace.
With an irritated sigh, sick of watching Spock struggle with the prison door, Leonard hesitantly gets to his feet, hoping he can find the right words.
“Spock, uh... I know we’ve had our disagreements.” This is a colossal understatement, but Spock doesn’t correct him, and Leonard decides to plough forward. “Maybe they’re jokes - I dunno. As Jim says, we’re often not sure ourselves sometimes.”
Spock is still not looking at him, though Leonard can’t decide whether he’s avoiding his gaze, or simply studying the prison bars.
“But, uh, what I’m trying to say is -”
“Doctor. I am seeking a means of escape. Would you please be brief.”
It is a command instead of a request, and Leonard should be annoyed, but he can only grin, because it is such a quintessentially Spock thing to say, and the familiar words are comforting as their world falls apart.
“Well, what I’m trying to say is, you saved my life in the arena.”
Although the words take quite a bit to get out, and he suddenly feels more vulnerable than he has in ages, Spock simply looks at him, his eyebrows registering nothing but confusion. “Yes, that’s quite true.”
His voice is toneless, his expression utterly impassive, and Leonard feels a choking mixture of hatred and mindless affection surge through him, stripping away any chance he had of controlling his words -
“I’m trying to thank you, you pointed-eared hobgoblin!”
His words reverberate around the cell, lacing the air with far too much emotion, but Spock simply frowns at him, as though trying to puzzle out a particularly tricky math equation. “Ah yes. You humans have that emotional need to express gratitude. ‘You’re welcome’, I believe, is the correct response.”
Spock moves past him, going to work on the bars on the other side of the door, and Leonard can do nothing but stare, shocked that Spock is still trying to pull this shit, even when he’s practically tearing down the prison with his bare hands.
“However, Doctor, you must remember that I am entirely motivated by logic.” Spock is wrapping his hands around the bars, as though they hold all the answers to escape. “The loss of our ship’s surgeon, whatever I may think of his relative skill, would mean a reduction in the efficiency of the Enterprise, and therefore -”
It’s like someone flicks a switch in his brain, and Leonard absolutely, fucking loses it.
In half a second, Spock is slammed against the wall, Leonard’s hands digging into his bony shoulders, the cloth-covered skin indenting under his merciless fingers. Leonard thinks he sees the tiniest hint of surprise in Spock’s eyes, but he couldn’t have stopped himself for anything in the world.
“You know why you’re not afraid to die, Spock?” He can hear the blinding rage in his voice, and his fingers tighten against Spock’s shoulders, still aiming to leave marks. “You’re more afraid of living.”
He had never planned to do this - had never planned to push Spock this far - but when Spock goes impossibly still beneath his hands, Leonard feels a sickening sense of victory, and the words keep coming. He knows that he’s being cruel, but Spock has been driving him crazy for three years, and Leonard suddenly can’t give a fuck about Spock’s feelings, wanting him to be as vulnerable as Leonard has felt since Spock strutted into his life.
“Each day you stay alive is just one more day you might slip, and let your human half peek out.”
Tension dancing along every inch of his body, Spock simply stares at him, no longer capable of finding the words to he needs to defend himself. There is a world of pain twisting through his eyes, silently pleading with Leonard to stop, and Leonard falters for a moment, trying to remind himself that this is what he wanted -
But when Spock turns away, staring straight ahead and motionless enough to be a statue, that sick sense of victory again curls through Leonard.
“That’s it, isn’t it. Insecurity.”
He has finally managed to slam through Spock’s barriers - has ripped open Spock’s greatest fears, rendering his logic completely useless - and he’s not about to let this opportunity slide. He knows that nothing terrifies Spock more than his ability to feel, and the quietly devastated expression on his face is the most horrified Leonard has ever seen.
“Why, you wouldn’t know what to do with a genuine, warm, decent feeling.”
The words have long passed malicious cruelty, but after watching Spock try to pull the prison down around them, Leonard can’t deal with Spock pretending to feel nothing for Jim. For all the times Spock has tried to give his life in Jim’s defence - for all the nights they have spent playing chess - for all the times that Spock has let Jim into his personal space, past that almost-visible barrier he wears around everyone else -
“Really, Doctor.”
They are the first words Spock has spoken during the entire exchange, and they’re painfully easy to interpret, as clearly as though Spock had shouted them -
I am trying to tear this prison down around us. Do you truly believe that I feel nothing?
Leonard swallows hard, suddenly disgusted with himself, and wonders what Jim would say about this hateful exchange.
“I know. I’m worried about Jim too.”
Looking more lost than Leonard can ever remember, Spock turns away and stares through the prison bars, a perfect image of desolation. His heart stuck somewhere around his throat, Leonard rests a hesitant hand against Spock’s shoulder, and breathes a tiny sigh of relief when it isn’t shoved away.
“Spock.”
Spock eventually turns back to him, and although his expression remains unchanged, those all-too-human eyes somehow make him look completely shattered. “If you have anything else to say, Doctor, I suggest you save it for another time.”
Spock has never sounded as broken as he does right now, and it leaves Leonard shaking, realizing that he’s done this to him. He has reduced Spock to this all-too-human level, and he doubts that Spock will want anything to do with him after this -
But fuck if he’s going to bail now.
“Look, I’m sorry. I just -”
“I am not interested. You have made your point.”
Spock climbs to his feet, crosses to the other side of the prison, and sits with his back to Leonard, more motionless than any living creature should be. Something unpleasant twisting through his stomach, Leonard stares at Spock’s tight shoulders for a moment, before he curses himself and turns back to the prison bars, realising that he doesn’t have a prayer of talking to Spock now.
- - -
“Jim, do you have any idea how much you mean to Spock?”
They have just returned from their excursion to that hellish planet, and Jim and Leonard are sharing a drink in Jim’s quarters, trying to relax after their unpleasant brush with death. Leonard has been meaning to have this conversation for awhile, and now seems like a fitting time. After what they have been through, he is far too aware of how fragile their lives are.
Jim frowns at him, as though he doesn’t quite understand the question. “Well, I know that he’s… fond of me, in his own way, and that he respects me as his captain.”
It is unsurprising that Leonard suddenly wants to bang Jim’s head against the desk.
“Other than that, though -”
“I know you’re not that blind.” Leonard pauses for a second, trying to figure out exactly what he wants to say. “When we were imprisoned, and we didn’t know what had happened to you, he was a mess.”
Jim raises his eyebrows at him, an almost comical expression, and Leonard fights down a surge of affection, knowing that now is not the time. Although he has been in love with Jim for far too long - since they were both a bit younger, and Jim had still been full of hope for the future - he had long ago accepted that he was always going to love his captain, but only from a distance.
Spock, though… what he feels for Spock is completely different.
“In what way, Bones?”
Leonard banishes the depressing thoughts, remembering how Spock had wrapped his hands around the prison bars, as though he could actually pull them free.
“He was trying to rip down the door with his bare hands.”
Leonard takes a drink to cover his sudden nervousness, and watches as Jim’s eyes flash towards him. “Was he really?”
Jim is trying to restrain his reaction, but Leonard knows him too well for that. “Yeah, Jim, he was - and don’t act like that doesn’t mean something to you.” He gnaws on his lip, remembering how desperately Spock had needed to get out of that cage. “I’ve never seen him like that.”
Jim exhales softly, and takes another sip of his drink.”He wanted to escape from you that badly?”
“Asshole.” There’s still some affection in the word, but Leonard glares at him, not seeing any humour in this situation. “He wanted to rescue you that badly. Can you find any logic in trying to pull apart metal with your bare hands?”
“No, I suppose I can’t.” Jim is still aiming for nonchalance. “He is half-Human, though - perhaps he was having an off day.”
Jim is being deliberately obtuse, playing the same avoidance game he’s been playing for years, and Leonard’s irritation suddenly morphs into true anger.
“Goddamnit, Jim, stop making jokes, and actually listen to me!”
Jim immediately freezes, his drink halfway to his mouth.
“That goblin cares more about you than he does anyone else in this world, and you’re too blind to see it!” Leonard is almost yelling, but he can’t bring himself to care, needing to get this through Jim’s thick skull. “He’d do anything for you, and not just because you’re his captain - how can you not know that?”
Leonard is halfway out of his chair by now, but Jim puts a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place.
“I know it, Bones. I just don’t know what to do about it.”
Leonard exhales slowly at the lost tone, and seats himself again. When Jim looks at him helplessly, Leonard places a hand on top of his, trying to find something convincing to say. He comes up short, and they sit in silence for a long moment, Leonard’s thoughts running crazy circles in his head, as he tries to make sense of what’s happening.
For all that he has been in love with Jim for years, Leonard has been in… something, with Spock, since about their thirtieth argument, when he told Spock to shut up, and Spock’s lips had actually twitched at him. It’s absolutely ridiculous, but Leonard can’t stop himself from caring about the jackass, who alternates between making him laugh and driving him crazy.
“Bones?”
There is obvious unease in Jim’s eyes, and Leonard pulls his thoughts back to the present, reminding himself that this is the way things need to be. It may make him a selfless and masochistic idiot, but it’s obvious who Spock needs, and Leonard refuses to stand in the way of what Jim and Spock could have.
“Jim,” he says softly, the words pulled from somewhere deep inside, “I’ve been watching you watch him for three years. Isn’t that long enough?”
Jim seems to stop breathing.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I know you better than anyone.”
Jim’s fingers are digging into his by now, and Leonard winces at the pain there. “So, what would you have me do, then?” There is an almost hysterical tone there, and Jim closes his eyes, as though completely unable to deal with this. “Bring him flowers and ask him to marry me? He’s my second in command!”
“Yeah, he is.” Leonard soothingly rubs his fingers across the top of Jim’s hand, hoping to convey some measure of calm. “He also loves you, in his prickly Vulcan way - and a lot of people spend their entire lives searching for something like that.”
Jim is staring at him wide-eyed, and Leonard tries to smile, their hands still resting together, the touch somehow scalding.
“For a novel concept, why don’t you try talking to him?”
Jim just stares at him some more, before tightening his grip on Leonard’s hand. “Surely,” he says softly, an obvious ache in his voice, “Surely you know he’s not the only person I -”
“Jim, no - don’t do this.” Leonard’s chest is suddenly tight, and he tries to sound anything but rattled, frightened by how much he doesn’t want to have this conversation. “I said no, and I stand by that. You’re my best friend.”
His voice is shaky, though, and Leonard curses himself, knowing that his protest was far from convincing. Jim gives him that wide-eyed stare - the one that makes him look like a kicked puppy. “And yet, you’re the one who’s going on about how people spend their entire lives -”
“Alright, alright!” Leonard abruptly stands and turns away, trying to breathe through the panic that’s trying to make itself known. “You want to have this conversation, fine - but it’s a bad fucking idea.”
“And why is that?”
Jim is on his feet now, and Leonard feels hands on his shoulders, turning him back around. He steadies himself against Jim’s arms, and watches as far too many emotions play across Jim’s face, everything clearly reflected in his eyes.
“How long have we known each other?”
Leonard swallows hard, his mind travelling back to the first day he stepped aboard this Starship. “Three years, some odd number of months.”
“Three years.” Jim is trying to stare him down, his fingers digging into Leonard’s shirt sleeve. “Three goddamn years, Bones, and I’ve spent a good two and a half of them wanting more. Isn’t that long enough to wait?”
He’s throwing Leonard’s own words back at him, and Leonard wants to kick him.
“What makes you think that I -”
“Alright, fine.” There is a clear challenge in Jim’s eyes. “You stand here, you jackass, and tell me that you don’t feel the same way - that you miraculously got over me, somewhere along the line - and I might actually try to believe you.”
Leonard feels the fight drain from his body, and he has to lean against the wall. He doesn’t say anything, but they both know that he doesn’t have to, and Jim exhales sharply as he steps back, running his hand over his eyes.
“Goddamnit, Bones -”
“So what if I still love you.” Feeling beaten, Leonard doesn’t try to censor his words, and Jim’s eyes flick back to him, a dangerous gleam there. “We’ve dealt with it for this long. We can keep -”
“Sometimes it hurts just to look at you.”
Leonard feels himself flush, his stomach twisting with pleasure at the words.
“If this is the only life we get, I don’t want us to spend it like this.”
Jim carefully takes his hands again, the touch sending sparks along his senses, and Leonard closes his eyes, trying to remind himself that this is a bad idea. The fact that Jim is his best friend and commanding officer - the knowledge that Spock is so impossibly in love with Jim, he quite probably hates himself over it -
“You can’t have both of us.”
“Why not?”
Leonard’s eyes fly open, his fingers tightening against Jim’s hands. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“It could, though.” There’s an almost feverish gleam to Jim’s eyes, as if he’s been holding this in for far too long. “I need you both in my life. I’d be lost without you - as a captain, and as a person. I can’t do this alone.”
Leonard is terrified to realize that he’s running out of arguments. He tries to speak, then shakes his head, still holding tight to Jim’s hands. “Jim -”
“You know how close we came to be slaughtered down there. Do you really want to keep fucking around with what we have left of our lives?”
Leonard breathes out an uneven sigh, and shakes his head, realizing how much he agrees with what Jim is saying - even if he can’t think of anything more disastrous than a captain taking up with both his first officer and CMO.
Leonard tries to find something to say, and ends up just staring at Jim, who manages a tiny smile, and tugs gently on Leonard’s hands. “Look, Bones, it would be impossible for me to stop loving you - you’ve gotta believe that. This isn’t something we would just fuck up.”
Years of denial are slipping away with impressive speed, and Leonard knows that there’s no going back after this. His stomach and his heart are dancing a painful tango within his body, reminding him of how much he’s wanted this.
“You really are serious.”
Jim’s eyes light up hopefully, as though Leonard has just promised him the world, and Leonard feels like he’s standing too close to a supernova, with Jim’s sudden hope an almost tangible sensation.
“You know this is a bad idea -”
When soft fingers trail against his cheek, drawing tiny lines of heat against his skin, Leonard bites off his words and closes his eyes, fighting down a stupid prickle of tears. After years of wanting this, his entire body is shaking, and he has absolutely no chance of saying no. “But you and Spock -”
“You want him as much as I do, Bones. I’ve been watching you watch him, too.”
Leonard stares at him, absolutely terrified, wondering if they actually have a chance of making this work, but Jim’s eyes are ridiculously warm, and the need there is stripping away his restraint.
“Alright.”
His voice sounds broken to his own ears, and he opens his eyes to find that Jim is still staring, the intensity in that gaze enough to take Leonard apart - and then their lips gently brush together, as Leonard makes a rather embarrassing sound, and the simple touch sends a firestorm along his skin, tearing down the last of his desperate defences. He blindly slides his hands against Jim’s hips, trying to pull them closer together, feeling the way Jim’s fingers are trembling against his shoulders -
“Captain, I was wondering -”
The door to Jim’s quarters has slid open, and Spock is suddenly standing there, looking like someone has smacked him across the face. Leonard’s stomach plummets as they break apart, and the sudden guilt in Jim’s expression is painful to look at.
“I - you had insisted that I no longer need ask permission to enter -”
Spock has disbelief written across every inch of him, and Leonard reminds himself to breathe, feeling like his world has suddenly dropped out from under him. Jim looks like a cornered animal, and Leonard gently pushes him away, his mind racing for a way to fix this.
“Spock,” he begins softly, remembering the lost look on his face when they had both been trapped in this prison, with no way of knowing if Jim was alive. “This isn’t how we -”
“Please, Doctor - your explanation is unnecessary.” Spock has never talked to him like that - like Leonard is scum beneath his boots - and the well-muted pain there is more than Leonard can handle. “I apologize for interrupting.”
There is not a twitch across that dangerously impassive face, but Spock still looks like someone has brought his entire universe down around him, and Leonard’s voice gets strangled somewhere, rendering him incapable of arguing. Spock stares at him a moment longer, before turning to leave, and Jim finally reacts, leaping forward to grab Spock by the sleeve.
“Wait -”
“Jim, please cease this.” Spock’s tone barely changes, but Leonard doesn’t miss the sadness twisting through his eyes. “There is no reason for me to be here.”
Leonard suddenly feels nauseous. When Spock tries to leave again, Jim grabs at his arm, seeming unable to find any words, as though just pawing at him will get Spock to stay, and Leonard abruptly realizes that they will get nowhere like this.
“Stop it, both of you!” Spock turns to not-quite-glare at him, and Jim looks like he wants the floor to fall out from under him. “Can’t we sit down and talk about this?”
“There is nothing for me to discuss -”
“Like hell there isn’t!”
The world as Leonard knows it has just come to a grinding halt, but he’s going to do his damndest to make sense of where they suddenly are, even if that means having a yelling match of epic proportions. He takes a calming breath before continuing, knowing that raising his voice will only make Spock leave faster.
"Spock, I’ve been on dozens of missions with you - and I have never seen you like that."
He is expecting at least some kind of response, but Spock remains perfectly silent, and Leonard can't stop a frustrated sound, wanting to know if he's getting through. Jim, however, is glancing between them, a tiny bit of hope creeping into his eyes.
"It’s alright, you know." Their captain takes a step closer, as though finally remembering how to use his legs. "We both freak out when something happens to you. It's normal."
Leonard doesn't even try to argue, remembering how he'd felt when Spock had undertaken what was almost certainly a suicide mission, willing to destroy himself to save all of their lives.
"Perhaps for you, Captain," Spock says softly, the tiniest hint of anger showing in the tightness of his lips. "I, however, have never been normal, whether by Vulcan or Human standards, and I cannot have pointless human sentiments impeding my ability to protect this ship, or compromising my aptitude for rational decision."
Spock's voice is creeping dangerously close to its customary impassiveness, and Leonard glances at Jim, who shrugs helplessly in return. With a sharp inhale of annoyance, Leonard frowns at them both, trying to figure out what will convince Spock to trust them - because he really doesn't want to spend the rest of his life playing the what-if game.
"Spock, we almost died down there - all of us. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"I cannot afford to feel concern whenever one of you is injured."
"Well, what if one of us is killed, then?" Leonard sees the miniscule flinch, but he makes no attempt to stop playing dirty. "How do you think you'd deal with that, if you can't even accept how freaked out you were when Jim was captured?"
"Doctor -"
"He's got a point." Jim has jumped in, and Leonard takes a moment to be grateful for the support. "We know how fragile life is up here. We’re all lucky to still be alive.”
Leonard holds his breath as Spock silently stares at Jim, his expression unreadable. It's like someone has slipped a mask over his already impassive face, and Leonard knows that this is Spock's way of overcompensating, his last attempt to hold himself together. He has seen this mask before - on the day that Spock thought he had murdered his captain.
“Contemplating the dangers of our occupation is useless.” Spock has suddenly started to edge towards the door, his voice much too steady for Leonard’s liking, and Leonard feels his anger suddenly come to a raging boil. “If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I am not needed here, and I have a project that must -“
“If you walk out of this room now, you’re the biggest coward I know!” There’s a dangerous flash to Spock’s eyes, but Leonard doesn’t stop, suddenly too angry to be tactful. “When you want something, you’re supposed to fight for it! I’ve seen the way you look at Jim - did you really think we were both blind?”
Spock goes dangerously still, an expression of unfettered panic finally twisting across his face; and although Leonard has seen Spock frightened in the past, nothing before has ever compared to this terrifying stillness - he looks like his entire universe has just been shattered into a thousand broken pieces, his eyes fixed almost helplessly on Jim’s face, all the colour suddenly drained from his skin.
“Jim - I do not - I ask that you -”
Helplessly trying to defend himself, Spock is actually stumbling all over his words, and the impossible sight makes Leonard realize that his brash accusation of love has crumbled what was left of Spock’s defences. When Spock makes a pained noise and closes his eyes, apparently giving up on trying to argue something inarguable, their captain takes a cautious step towards him.
“Don’t leave.” It’s the first coherent thing Jim had managed to say, and his voice wavers a bit, the words sounding like they were dragged from deep inside. “Please don’t go.”
Now Spock is the one who looks like a cornered animal. He opens his eyes to stare at them both, every inch of him radiating enough tension to power a starship, and Leonard takes a deep breath, hoping they can make this work.
"Spock, come on. Give us a chance."
Leonard’s voice is loud in the silence of the room, and he glances at Jim, who exhales softly and rests a hesitant hand against Spock's arm. When Spock visibly stiffens at the contact, Leonard suddenly wonders if they can actually do this, if it's right to push Spock this far, when it’s clear that he’s more terrified of these feelings than anything else in the universe -
"I cannot do this."
As though reading Leonard’s mind, Spock's uneven voice is soft, almost inaudible, and Leonard watches as Jim's hand tightens against Spock's arm, obviously afraid to let him go. His heart beating out of his chest, Leonard finds himself reaching out to do the same, curling his fingers against Spock's elbow.
"Why not?"
Spock's expression might as well have been carved from stone. His eyes, though - those all-too-human eyes are darting between them, clearly visible panic lurking there.
"Neither of you understand what you are asking of me. I cannot give you what you need."
Leonard stares at Spock, his mind turning the words in circles, and then suddenly clues in.
Spock thinks he's not good enough for us. Not human enough. Incapable of giving us anything in return.
The thought slams into his mind with perfect clarity, and, from the expression on his face, Jim has had the same realization. His brown eyes are wide, but his lips are twisted in a familiar look of calm determination. It’s a look many aliens have seen, right before they realized that they didn’t have a chance.
"We want you as you are, Spock. Not someone you can't be."
Leonard nods his agreement, but Spock shakes his head and almost stumbles backwards, freeing himself from their grasp, the broken contact leaving Leonard’s fingers aching. Jim’s mouth twists a little further, obvious hurt flashing across his face, and Spock looks more shaken than Leonard has ever seen.
“Spock -”
Spock cuts Jim off with another curt shake of his head, and Jim visibly deflates, his shoulders slumping in defeat. After taking another uneasy step back, his fearful gaze darting between them, Spock turns and exits the room, leaving them to face a painfully loud silence.
“Well, that went well.”
He mutters the sarcastic words before he can think, and Jim shoots him a reproachful look, most of the colour gone from his face. Feeling something in his heart twist, Leonard sighs softly and places his hand against Jim’s arm, drawing his fingers across the soft fabric.
“Give him time.”
“I can’t afford to lose him.”
Leonard knows that Jim is talking both professionally and personally, and he steps a little closer, relieved when Jim leans in towards him, his arm sliding around his waist. They’re both still staring at the closed door, as though it can somehow give them the answers they need, and Leonard draws Jim away, guiding him to the bed and gently sitting him down.
“Are you on duty any time soon?”
“Not for another eight hours.”
Jim still seems a little dazed, and Leonard stifles another sigh, reaching down to pull Jim’s feet onto his lap, kneeling in front of him. He starts to work on the boot laces, and though Jim looks at him oddly, Leonard forces down a blush as he throws the boots to the floor.
“Under the covers. You’re not going on duty until you’ve had some sleep.”
“Ever the doctor.”
There’s nothing but fondness in Jim’s words, some of the colour finally returning to his face, and Leonard manages a tiny smile. As he steps back, Jim gets to his feet and pulls the blankets back, and Leonard suddenly remembers how good it felt to have those hands on his skin.
“Stay with me?”
After twelve years together, Leonard knows Jim better than he knows himself, and he can see the well-muted need in those dark eyes. He ignores Jim’s obvious relief as he pulls off his own boots, before going to lock Jim’s door, and sliding into bed beside him, suddenly and painfully aware of how awkward this could become.
“Jim -”
“Stop worrying, Bones. It’s only me.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
His grumble is laced with unease, and there’s a good inch of space between them, making Leonard suddenly feel like he’s sixteen again, lying in a hayfield with his first crush, keep a solid safe zone between them. That space disappears as Jim dims the lights, and moves a little closer, bumping his shoulder against Leonard’s.
“Would it - could you -”
His heart trying to ache out of his chest, Leonard rolls onto his side and props himself up on an elbow, barely able to see Jim’s face in the semi-darkness. When Jim can’t quite seem to find the words he needs, obvious frustration stealing across his shadowed features, Leonard bites back his nerves and slides closer, gently turning Jim onto his side, and pressing himself against his back.
“This alright?”
It’s like two pieces of a puzzle finally, finally snapping together, after years of denied yearning, and he can hear his nervous drawl sneaking through as he wraps his arms around Jim, but Jim simply exhales shakily and presses himself closer, his fingers curling around Leonard’s arms.
“How do you always know what I’m thinking?”
His voice is just shy of a whisper, and Leonard feels himself grin helplessly against Jim’s hair, the entire situation suddenly feeling unreal. Every inch of him seems to have caught fire, and he slowly drags his fingers across Jim’s arms, simply enjoying the chance to be this close.
“Result of spending years chasing you around the galaxy.”
Jim doesn’t say anything, but he seems to relax slightly, and Leonard lets his eyes drift closed. When the image of Spock’s retreating back flashes across his mind, he firmly shoves it away, and concentrates solely on the man in his arms. They’ve shared a bed before, far too many times to count, but they’re never shared it like this, and Leonard firmly shoves his arousal into some distant part of his mind, knowing that what Jim needs more than anything is rest.
“Get some sleep, Jim. I’m not going anywhere.”
Leonard finally has what he’s wanted for longer than he cares to admit, and there will be time to talk to Spock later. For now, he’s securely wrapped around his best friend, and he plans to forget for awhile that the rest of the world exists.
- - -
Part Two - http://twisting-vine-x.livejournal.com/187365.html#cutid1