“I trust that’s nothing he would object to your doing while he was awake.”
“Doctor, you startled me.”
The silence was icy.
Spock realised he had not answered the question, and said quietly, “He has never objected, no.”
“I was asking how long you two….”
“Oh. About three months, now.”
The doctor whistled, “Damn. You hide it well.”
“Doctor, may I ask what you are doing in Jim’s quarters?”
“Well, apparently you may. I don’t have to answer, though.”
Hearts beat, one slowly and one extraordinarily fast, for several seconds, before the doctor saw the look and realised that his life was in danger, “Hell… no, Spock… there’s nothing… we were drinking last night, I must have fallen asleep, so Jim took the chair.”
“I should leave.”
“Wait. There is something which has been…. concerning me for some time, and I have been meaning to ask you about it.”
“It is personal.”
“It is about Jim.”
“Well, you ask and I’ll tell you if I’m allowed to answer. Doctor patient confidentiality and all that, Spock.”
“Yes of course,” Spock took a deep breath, and lifted the covers off Jim very gently.
“Is that normal?”
“That line, there.”
“I can’t see properly.”
“Well, it becomes more apparent when he is….”
“You mean like this?” the doctor stepped up and took a certain hold, and squeezed, and the captain’s penis swelled immediately, and enlarged quickly. Jim moaned in his sleep, and the long jagged cicatrice became apparent. Spock’s eyebrow nearly shot over the top of his head.
“How did you-“
“Jim and I were roommates for three years, Spock. Don’t you think I’d know how to-“
“Well… maybe a bit more at one stage. Anyway, is this what you were asking about?” he traced his finger up the jagged line.
“Yes. Is it harmful? Life-threatening? I have looked up images of normal human anatomy, and cannot find any similar markings.”
“No, it’s not harmful. It’s a scar.”
Spock stared at the doctor, horrified.
“Yes, a scar. It’s not harmful. That’s all I’m going to tell you about that. Anything more would be a breach of doctor patient confidentiality, and you’re going to have to ask Jim.”
He turned to leave, but Spock grabbed his wrist gently, “You two were… involved?”
“You did not wish it to end?”
“Doctor, I did not know. I am sorry.”
“It’s okay. He needed a helluva lot more than I could give him, that’s all,” the doctor looked speculatively at Spock, then down at his wrist, “Although I don’t know….”
“Whether a Vulcan can provide ‘more’?”
“I’m sure you can, Spock. You’re a complex man. Maybe not as damaged as Jim or me. Perhaps you can give him what he needs. That would be good.”
Spock’s eyes softened, and he said softly, “He is not the only one in need.”
McCoy looked surprised, and stared at his wrist, then looked at Spock, “So…. you really can read me through this?”
“It is not mysticism, doctor, merely physiology which you do not understand.”
“Hmmmm,” McCoy did not move his wrist, “Just don’t… throw him aside when you find out how damaged he is, hey? Everyone else has done that to him.”
The dark Vulcan eyes bored into McCoy’s, “Except you.”
McCoy pulled at his wrist slightly, “Let me go… please.”
“I will in a moment,” and Spock placed his other palm against the inside of McCoy’s wrist, and ran it down to the crook of his elbow and back up, then around the back of his hand, and released McCoy’s hand gently.
McCoy had closed his eyes when the Vulcan placed his other hand on his arm, and now opened them and whispered, “Like I said, I should go.”
He turned and walked out, and Spock’s eyes followed him, dark and unreadable.
McCoy ducked back into his quarters, and leaned on the back of his door after it closed, his knees sagging slightly, as the memory of that warm hand and those dark eyes overwhelmed him.
“God damn it!” he swore, softly, “That was out of left field.”
They were yelling, now, placing great and possibly unjustified faith in the excellent soundproofing in Jim’s quarters.
“You showed Bones?”
“How else was I supposed to ascertain that it was harmless?”
“You couldn’t have just asked me?”
“I was too embarrassed. Besides… Bones knew about it,” he levelled an accusing Vulcan bondmate stare at Jim.
Jim rolled his eyes, “Oh, please, don’t start.”
“You had a relationship.”
“Yeah, boo-hoo, you’re not my first. News flash.”
“It’s not like Miss Africa out there isn’t always ogling you still on the bridge!”
“Uhura does not ogle me!”
“Yeah she does!”
“Then she must be doing it when I am not looking. Perhaps she seeks to incite you and me to just this sort of argument.”
“Oh, and you’d love that too, wouldn’t you?!”
“I do not find it relaxing having you yelling at me!”
Spock was breathing heavily, and had completely lost control. He was starting to gain an insight into why his father would often jump on his air bike and flee the house after similar yelling matches between his mother and himself. Spock’s breathing was too fast, his heart was racing, his skin was flushed green, and a choking feeling of panic was starting in him that this might not stop. He might just get angrier and angrier and not be able to control it. He was shaking. He turned away from Jim, and stared at his trembling hands, then to his amazement felt cool human arms come around him from behind, a head rest on his shoulder.
“Hey, take it easy. Calm down. Breathe.”
“I must regain control.”
“I know. Breathe.”
“This did not happen with Uhura.”
“I know. Breathe.”
“I am breathing.”
Jim chuckled softly, and turned the Vulcan around in his arms, then reached up to, illogically, prevent Spock from doing what he had just been telling him to do, that is breathe, by kissing him passionately on the lips.
Spock was still shaking, “Jim, I am still….”
Spock found that his increased heart rate, his flushed skin, his fast breathing, all led to him becoming aroused much more quickly than normal, and he scooped up the human and held him tight, then carried him across to the bunk and hastily stripped off Jim’s clothes, mounting him easily.
“Mmmmm… hey,” chuckled Jim, “Slow down,” but then he saw the look in the dark eyes and added, “Or not….”
The human’s skin was flushed, too, after their fight, and his breathing was elevated. Spock ran his fingers down Jim’s arms and hands and shivered as he felt the raw emotions raging through the human still, just below the surface.
“Here, let me-“ Jim stripped off Spock’s clothing with undignified haste. Neither of them cared.
Spock lowered himself down onto the human, stretching their naked bodies together. Ragged emotions flowed through the human’s hot skin to his, a maelstrom of feelings, anger still abating, arousal, passion, amazement…. It was extraordinarily intoxicating to the Vulcan, who rubbed against the human like a cat, his mouth and eyes half open, his mind still mildly horrified at his ongoing lack of control.
“Oh, God…. Spock,” murmured Jim, then felt the Vulcan lean down and take a quick nibble at his left nipple, and felt his body arch up in response. Jim felt as though he was a passenger, he did not have to will his muscles to move: they just did it of their own volition… Spock’s passion and his body’s responses would do it all for him, and he just needed to let go…. “Oh, what are you doing? That feels….”
“The meld, give me the meld.”
Jim felt the long fingers on his face, the mind seeping in around his…. then the familiar thump of connection as it happened between them. He gasped, and so did Spock.
“You want me…” murmured Spock.
Laughter sparkled in the meld, “Ya think?” grinned Jim and pulled Spock down by those pointed ears.
He kissed the Vulcan again, and helped Spock find his entrance and ease in, then Jim felt the temporary pain…. But Spock would not have that, not for a moment, and in the meld Jim felt the Vulcan techniques kick into action, and suddenly the pain disappeared, and there was only the pleasure, almost unbearable in itself, of the Vulcan filling him, rubbing against him both inside and out. Jim put both hands behind him and pulled himself up slightly using the headboard, to arch his body deliciously along Spock’s. Spock moaned and rocked against him, lost in the overwhelming emotions, anger now completely metamorphosed to desire.
Something changed, suddenly, and Jim felt himself rising rapidly towards a climax as the Vulcan’s motions became more rapid, each thrust more intense, and following more quickly on the heels of the one before. Jim moaned, “Spock, I’m gonna come….”
Spock managed to nod his agreement, then to Jim’s surprise he suddenly thrust deep in the meld, burrowing his mind into Jim’s almost until it almost hurt… Jim gasped, and found his body responded in a different way, his arousal peaking suddenly, his own thrusts up against Spock becoming wild and uncontrolled. They both came at once, with a cry and a gasp and an intake of breath, and a long, luscious moan of surrender from Jim to the pleasure.
Afterwards Spock lay as he often did, moving his fingers in tiny, gentle circles around the meld points on Jim’s face, so that the mixture of physical and mental sensation kept Jim in a sort of sensuous limbo, his mind a series of pleasure-laden pulses, like waves on a beach… Jim moaned with pleasure again, and Spock slowly smiled.
“I’m still mad at you, you know….” Jim managed to say, and Spock’s eyebrow rose in surprise.
“Oh, thoroughly,” the human smiled in some sort of inexplicable pleasure that Spock could not fathom his feelings in the matter. Even in the meld, Jim’s feelings were sometimes simply too complex for Spock to understand. The Vulcan was entranced, just as Jim was when Spock occasionally did really complex mathematical equations when they were in the meld and Jim could not quite follow them. He had queried Spock one night, as to why he did it, and the Vulcan calmly explained that it was his way of retaining a measure of privacy even within the meld. Jim had been puzzled, but acquiescent in his usual easily accepting way of everything Spock did.
Except, that is, of showing Bones his boner while he slept. He still hadn’t forgiven the Vulcan for that one.
Spock was still following his thoughts, and this time it was Jim’s turn to be puzzled at the Vulcan’s inexplicable emotions, for the Vulcan smiled.
“What’s with him?” asked Bones, relaxing marginally after Spock left the cabin.
“Well, if I were Spock I would say something along the lines of, ‘his behaviour towards me was pleasant on five point three occasions in the last fourteen hours’,” smiled Bones.
Jim chuckled, “Don’t get excited, Bones, it won’t last.”
Bones grunted that half-grunt, half chuckle that he often used.
He looked thoughtfully at Jim. The captain’s emotional welfare was a professional concern of his. Ironic that it should become the focus of his professional career, when it was none of his god-damned business in private. As an ex-lover, he had no right to ask Jim how he felt. As his doctor, it was an imperative that he ask, and know, at any given time.
“How are you travelling, Jim?”
Jim Kirk saw right through him, “That the professional asking, Bones?”
“Yeah. The ex doesn’t have any real right to ask, remember?” the voice was wry.
Jim looked thoughtful, and asked, “The ‘ex’? What about the friend?”
Bones pursed his lips, and said doubtfully, “I think ‘ex’s only become friends when they were willing ex’s, Jim.”
“You couldn’t make an exception, for me?”
“Always have to be special, don’t you?”
“It would be nice, once in a while,” but Jim’s voice had gone quiet.
Bones looked at him speculatively, and wondered if he should broach the subject. Then he decided, hell, it had been four months…. “Spock seems to think you’re pretty special.”
The young captain gave him a long, hard look, “That’s his business. And mine.”
Bones tilted his head, “Interesting.”
“What?” the youngster’s voice was rough, now, wary.
“Defensiveness, from you?”
“I wouldn’t have thought that would be that unusual.”
“Mmmmm. But normally, you tend to be more…. dismissive, than defensive.”
Jim was silent, then after a while asked bitterly, “You finished, doctor?”
Bones rolled his eyes, “Jesus, Jim, it’s my job.”
“Then keep it for when we’re on duty.”
“You really are defensive about him, aren’t you?”
The reserve cracked, “Well, why shouldn’t I be? Hell, look at what he’s gone through in the last six months, and now you want to…. what, suggest that the only solace he finds, might be, what? Inappropriate?”
Bones stared at him for a long time, until Jim’s glare faded into a vaguely uneasy stare. Eventually the younger man could not take the silence and demanded, “Well?”
“Well…. I’m finding this discussion very interesting. First, that you apparently think I would find your relationship inappropriate, and secondly….” the doctor’s voice edged uneasily close to incredulity, “You think you’re solace? To him?”
Jim glared at Bones, wondering how the easy conversation had so quickly degenerated into an argument, “Well, Bones, you might not have thought much of me as a partner, but I think Spock finds that I am some… solace, after all.”
Bones stared at him incredulously, speechless.
Jim wriggled uncomfortably in his seat, and eventually said, “What?”
“You’re unbelievable. You’re fucking unbelievable.”
Jim’s eyebrows both rose.
The doctor took a swig of his whisky, and eyeballed the young man, then said clearly, “I think you are a great deal more than just ‘solace’ to Spock, is what I meant.”
“Yeah. Don’t tell him I said this, Jim, but I think he’s pretty much… completely taken with you.”
“Oh,” Jim tried to process the information, and almost succeeded.
“And, there it goes!” exclaimed Bones.
“That good ole’ low self-esteem of yours, clunking into place. Don’t believe me then. Watch him. Better still, watch him looking at anyone else, and tell me that he’s not completely head over heels for you.”
“Oh, come on, Bones, it’s a comfort thing.”
Silence stretched between them. Jim could not say the words, could not tell Bones that for him, it was not just a comfort thing, although he supposed that, to Spock it was. No matter how devoted the Vulcan was to him now, Jim knew that as soon as Spock recovered fully from the loss of his planet and his mother, he would take a fresh look at Jim and realise that he was basically saddled with damaged goods. Then the excuses would begin, and the slow painful withdrawal would start, and Jim would stand aside graciously, because that’s what he always did, because he knew he was damaged goods and he wouldn’t fault Spock (or Carol, or Bones, or anyone for that matter) for figuring that out. It would hurt, God it would hurt, but Spock deserved better than Jim. And if Jim wanted to pretend in the meantime, to have a few short months of happiness with Spock, then why couldn’t Bones just let him?
“That’s what I thought, Jim.”
Jim looked slowly up from where he had been staring at the floor, and said icily, “You of all people should know better, doctor, than to bring up that most of my relationships seem to be a one-way street.”
He stood up and left his cabin.
Bones quietly swore, and went to find Spock. There were some things that only a Vulcan could manage. One of those things, apparently, was Jim Kirk.
The door to his quarters swished open, and Spock stared at the dishevelled, apparently half-drunk doctor.
McCoy walked in shaking his head ruefully, and said bluntly, “I’m fucking this up unbelievably, and I need your help, Spock.”
“You were with Jim. Is he alright?”
“Yeah. No. Physically, yes. Emotionally, no… well…”
“Doctor, please be more specific. Does Jim need assistance?”
“No. Not immediately. He might need you to stay with him tonight, though…” suggested McCoy.
“That was my intention.”
“Good. Can I sit down?”
“It appears that might be better than the alternative,” said Spock.
“Wha’s the alternative?”
“You falling down.”
McCoy laughed, “Hey, that’s good. Did you just crack a joke? I must be drunk,” and he inspected the bottle in his hand, trying to remember how much was in there when he started drinking.
Spock walked him slowly over to his bunk, and helped the doctor sit down.
“What you wearing?” asked McCoy a little blearily.
“Oh. Never seen you out of uniform. Looks good.”
The Vulcan’s eyebrows rose slightly, and as he turned away a smile ghosted around his eyes.
“So, doctor, what seems to be the problem?”
“That’s my line.”
“I am sorry. Should I defer to your….” And Spock hesitated a long time, “….professional judgement?”
McCoy guffawed. “Yep. Nope. Damn.”
“The problem with Jim?”
“Oh, that. He thinks he’s just solace.”
“Ah. Yes, I am aware of that. It will pass, eventually.”
“You seem pretty damn sure of that, Spock.”
“Doctor, you say you have been friends for many years, and yet you do not seem to know Jim very well.”
“Waddya mean, Spock?”
“Do you think he would have come to my bed if he thought it was more than… temporary?”
McCoy, even drunk, sat up, “Damn…… damn….. “ he said, and stared at Spock, “What game are you playing?”
“No game, doctor. I am merely saying that, if Jim thinks he is temporary solace to me now, then that is fine with me. If fitting in with his self-image made it easier to initiate a relationship with him, then kaiidth, I fitted in.”
“Kaiidth? ‘So be it’.”
McCoy was silent, then asked, “Is it just me, or are you implying that you want something more… long-term, from Jim, than you think he’s willing to give?”
“That is accurate enough, doctor.”
“Spock…. that’s an awfully dangerous game to play with Jim Kirk, you know.”
Spock closed his eyes, and nodded gravely. He knew. The stakes on offer were Spock’s heart, his soul, his life itself. He knew.
“But doesn’t he know this? The meld, and all? Don’t you guys, you know, know everything the other one knows?”
“Only what one is thinking…being… at the time, doctor. The meld does not span time.”
“But it includes memories, too, right?”
“Only those which are subject to recall at the time. Some memories exist in a repressed state. Those, for instance, would not be accessed.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, Spock.”
“Yes, it is difficult to explain verbally. Perhaps…. no.”
“Well, of course the easiest way to explain a meld, would be to perform a meld, but I do not think that is wise….”
“Because you are drunk.”
“I’m not really drunk, just a bit tipsy.”
“Come on, Spock, give me a break, I’m drowning here.”
Spock gazed at him speculatively, “Perhaps just a surface meld, quickly… to help you to comprehend the nature of a meld….”
“Okay, sounds good. What do I do?”
“Nothing, doctor. Normally I would say to relax your mind, but I think the alcohol may have achieved that already,” and the Vulcan locked his cabin door and sat down carefully next to McCoy.
McCoy looked at him, “This is to help Jim, right?”
“That’s alright, then.”
The Vulcan’s long fingers drifted up close to McCoy’s face, and his eyes widened slightly as the fingers touched his face, then….
McCoy gasped as his mind was touched for the first time by another. It felt… like touching hands, when you had never felt another person’s touch before. Like a warm breeze drifting into your soul, warming places that you did not know were cold. Like making love for the first time, being inside another person, having them inside you. Like being violated by an alien presence… but finding it so warm. McCoy started to breathe again, and said, “Spock….”
Spock gently lifted his hands off the doctor’s face, and took the doctor’s hand in both of his, “Are you alright?” he asked, stroking McCoy’s hand gently as the doctor’s eyes came back into focus.
McCoy tried to speak, but found his voice caught, and he coughed, then managed to say hoarsely, “Yeah, I’m fine.” He stared at Spock.
The dark eyes looked into his, and Spock carefully explained, “If you can imagine… that was a light meld, and very short…. If you can imagine the depth of emotion induced by the act of lovemaking, and combine that with a meld….”
McCoy’s eyes widened slowly. He could imagine…..
“And yet, you will see, your own reactions occupy your thoughts to some extent, and the other’s mind is more… a presence at first. I doubt Jim knows everything I know, even from the extensive melds we have… indulged in.”
“Okay, I get it. But what….damn it, Spock, what game are you playing with him? If you hurt him, by God, I’ll have your Vulcan balls for it. Jim’s been hurt enough in the past. God knows, I didn’t help.”
“Hmmm. What happened there?”
“I tried to give him more space, room to grow. He reacted badly, over-reacted. I didn’t realise he was so touchy about people abandoning him. He broke it off, even though I didn’t want it to end. Since then I’ve….. “ McCoy looked away sadly.
“Since then, you have stayed with him.”
“Yes. In case he needs me somehow. Anyhow,” McCoy bit his lip, and Spock resisted the urge to take him in his arms and hug him.
“Damn, Spock, that meld…. that’s pretty… close.”
“And yet now you can see, doctor, why Jim does not know everything I know.”
“Yes,” McCoy said thoughtfully.
He stood up, a little wobbly. Spock still had his hand, and held it until they were before the door, to steady the doctor, “I’d better go. Drop in on him, will you?”
The glowing dark eyes regarded him warmly, “I will. Thank you, doctor.”
“Yeah. Don’t mention it,” and McCoy made his slightly wobbly way back to his cabin.
Spock retreated to his cabin, and changed to go find Jim. His face was passive as always, but his eyes were warm with anticipation.
McCoy was asleep within minutes, but before he fell asleep he remembered the meld, and the warm feelings associated with it, and how Spock had said, ‘If you can imagine the depth of emotion induced by the act of lovemaking, and combine that with a meld…’
Trouble was, McCoy could imagine it. He dreamt about it, that night. He dreamt of being touched like that again, with such warmth, in his mind, and he dreamt of making love, but he didn’t know who he was with. At first he thought it was Spock, but then his mind decided that was just too unlikely, and he saw the blue, blue eyes of Jim Kirk gazing adoringly into his once more…. he murmured both their names, and woke up only mildly hung over, and avoided the pair of them all week.
Spock considered his next move carefully.
Jim moved the chess piece.
Spock sighed, audibly.
He was in a good mood, because it had been a long, hard-fought game, and he had won. Spock watched his eyes carefully, but could see frustratingly little of Jim’s mood from them. Then the Vulcan remembered and inspected the human’s mouth and shoulders instead. The soft mouth was upturned, the shoulders straight.
“You are pleased?”
“Damned right I am,” grinned Jim, confirming Spock’s hypothesis that the human was in a good mood. Time to put his plan into action. He checked the status of the subtle link between them… it was functioning correctly, unobtrusively, as it must over the next few days.
“Jim…. “ he began, then deliberately hesitated.
“What’s up, Spock?”
“I have been thinking about our relationship.”
Silence met him, and he looked up into a face that was expressionless, but eyes that had just frozen and gone three shades more blue.
“I feel that I have been leaning on you, for emotional support, for many weeks now. Perhaps it is time that we… slowed things down a little, eased up on the pressure. I feel that you are carrying me, and I wish to ease that burden.”
“Please do not misunderstand me. I see our relationship as potentially a long term one.”
“However, these first few months will form the foundation for that longer term relationship, and I feel that we should ensure that the foundation is based on sound emotional principles. I need to stand on my own two feet more, not to rely on your comfort and support so much.”
Jim was blinking hopelessly now, hoping that tears wouldn’t start until Spock left the room. It was the kindest break-up speech that he had ever heard, but he had heard a few of them, and he knew what it was.
Fifteen minutes later Spock was back in his own cabin, kneeling on the floor covering his face with his hands, trying to block the pain that was coming through the link, and a white-faced Jim Kirk was buzzing on Bones’ cabin door.
“He…. wants to give me more room,” Jim managed to whisper, and Bones managed to catch him as he collapsed, cursing all Vulcans as he half carried the captain over to the bed and went to his medikit for a tranquilliser. Bones had felt the depth of that small meld, and he knew what Spock and Jim must share. To have that broken off suddenly… he cursed the Vulcan again.
The pain faded, and Spock realised that Jim was unconscious. He checked the link, and realised that it led to McCoy’s quarters. Good. Now came the most delicate part of the operation…. he must not risk leaving Jim in this state for too long.
He managed to stand up, and headed for McCoy’s quarters. The doctor was on home territory, and would be more confident and able to stand up to Spock, which was just what Spock wanted.
Spock buzzed McCoy’s door, but had his hand up in front of him… to catch the fist that flew at him as soon as Bones realised who it was standing in his doorway.
“You unfeeling bastard! How could you do this to him? After all I told you!” McCoy hissed at him, struggling to free his fist from Spock’s firm grasp and hurt the Vulcan.
“Doctor, you are behaving irrationally.”
“Some of us are proud to be irrational. Some of us are proud to have feelings,” spat McCoy.
Spock looked to either side, and decided their discussion would be better held in private, in case a stray crew member came along the corridor. Then he felt it… Jim waking up, through the link. The human was groggy, but conscious.
“May I come in?”
It was a most irrational and intriguing expletive, the literal meaning of which Spock was quite sure was an anatomical impossibility or, at best, a contradiction in terms.
On the bed behind them, the blue eyes shot open, then quickly shut tightly against a splitting headache. But Jim was conscious, and began to listen... and Spock knew it.
“Bones… I was trying to give him more room, more space, like you did. You are correct, he reacts…. extraordinarily badly to that. I had not anticipated this. I do not wish to break off our relationship, any more than you did your relationship with him. Not ever,” said Spock, a little loudly.
Bones said, “You don’t?”
“No. Of course not. I felt that I had been leaning on him too heavily, and I attempted to correct that imbalance, and he reacted as though I wished to terminate our relationship.”
“Shit. Déjà vu.”
“Is this what happened to you?”
“Yes. Almost to the letter, Spock. Damn.”
Jim’s heart was racing. Spock did not want to break up with him? Bones had not wanted to break up with him? There was a pattern emerging here. Maybe… the thought was amazing to him… maybe I got it wrong? Or maybe I’m just dreaming or hallucinating here, because did I just hear Spock and Bones pouring their hearts out to each other about me? He groaned.
Bones turned, his attention caught by the groan, and Spock took the opportunity to walk into the cabin. He headed straight for the bed and sat down around the other side of the bed, leaving room for McCoy to sit on the closer side.
“Jim?” Spock asked gently, and reached a hand to the human’s forehead. McCoy reached over to check Jim’s pulse, and Spock, appearing not to notice, let his hand drift back and cover the doctor’s hand, and Jim’s. McCoy looked faintly surprised, but then looked at Spock and realised the Vulcan’s mistake. Spock must have thought he had placed his hand over Jim’s, because he hadn’t looked….
“Jim? Are you alright?”
“And me, Jim,” added Bones softly, “It’s okay, Spock’s here, he’s not going anywhere.”
“Mmmmm. What about you, Bones?”
McCoy shot Spock a puzzled look, “I’ll be here.”
Jim murmured, “Everything I need….” and seemed to drift off again.
Spock sighed audibly. It was the second time he had deliberately sighed audibly in two weeks. It caught McCoy’s attention, “What?”
“Did he react this badly when he thought you had broken up with him?”
“Yeah, pretty much. From what I gather.”
Spock sighed audibly again.
“Then, Doctor McCoy, I appear to have acquired your bondmate under.. ‘false pretenses’ I believe the human phrase is?”
“Bondmate. The nearest translation is ‘lover’ although that does not….”
“Wait, wait, wait, you’re saying you think Jim should still be… mine?”
“Under Vulcan law, there is no doubt. Under human law-“ Spock looked puzzled, “Is there a human law for this situation?”
“Well, no, not really…. but Spock -”
“Doctor, the facts are quite clear. You broke up due to a misunderstanding, which has now been clearly demonstrated by Jim’s reaction to my making a similar request of him as the one which precipitated your break up all those years ago.”
“Yes, but Spock, we’re not together. Haven’t been. Not for ages. I’m the ex.”
“Well, you are here, at his side, now, are you not?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“Why did you bring him aboard the Enterprise?”
“Well, we were coming into a fight, remember?”
“Ah, yes… I do recall.. your exact words were, ‘When you’re running in the Kentucky Derby, you don’t leave your best… stallion… back home in the stables’. Interesting choice of words, do describe him as ‘your best stallion’?”
“I didn’t mean… I … but… I didn’t….”
“You have his best interests at heart, you are at his side, and…” and here he gazed intently at McCoy, with an intensity that sent all McCoy’s hackles up at once, “I have seen into your mind, remember?”
McCoy could have spoken the next words out of Spock’s mouth in unison with the Vulcan, because he knew what they were going to be. They had a sort of inevitability in them, which rang through even though the Vulcan spoke them softly, carefully, aware of what their impact would be.
“You still love him, don’t you?”
Bones hung his head.
Say something, thought Spock, impatiently, then took matters into his own hands, by saying “Your actions speak louder than words, doctor. The answer is ‘yes’, is it not?”
Damned human nodded, and Spock said, “You are nodding,” hoping neither human would wake up to the fact that he was now scripting McCoy’s actions for Jim, who still had his eyes shut.
McCoy looked at him quizzically, and Spock very nearly lost the game at that point, because the doctor was on the verge of realizing what Spock was doing, when Jim groaned again and caught McCoy’s attention, distracting him.
“Yes, Jim, we’re both here.”
“Please stay… both of you….”
“Of course, Jim.”
There was a short silence, and McCoy went to move his hand, then realised that it was still held under Spock’s, on top of Jim’s hand. “Um… Spock?”
“Yes?” the Vulcan looked at him, obviously realised that he was holding the doctor’s hand and did not move his hand.
McCoy stared at Spock as if the Vulcan had grown a second pair of pointed ears.
“What is it, doctor?” End game, thought Spock. Here we go….
Spock looked at his hand on McCoy’s, “What about it?” He moved his hand, but only to slide it more firmly over the doctor’s, almost in a wrist lock.
“I… know what that means…” whispered McCoy, because he had asked Jim a few days ago.
“Yes, I know.”
The air between them crackled with things unsaid, and Spock looked from the doctor’s face, back to their hands, then back to Jim. He stroked his thumb a couple of times gently across the back of McCoy’s wrist, then removed his hand, whispering, “I am sorry.”
McCoy thought about dark Vulcan eyes and mind melds and Jim and Spock, and whispered, “Are you….?” he couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t add ‘hitting on me?’ because it just seemed too damned unlikely…
But then Spock looked him in the eye and nodded slowly, and McCoy could swear that the oxygen content in the room had suddenly dropped to zero, because he felt like he was breathing and not getting any air.
“What about Jim?”
Spock looked at McCoy with those soft, dark, dangerous eyes, “I do not understand the question, doctor.”
The hell you don’t, thought McCoy. What game are you playing?
“Let me spell it out for you, Spock. He’s just collapsed because he thought you were trying to break up with him, and now you’re hitting on his best friend. All the while telling me I should get back with him, and yet acting as though a pack of wolves wouldn’t drag you away.”
“An excellent summary, doctor.”
“You’re not making any sense whatsoever.”
“In what way?”
“Spock, I need you to think carefully about all that stuff I just said,” said McCoy, worriedly, “Don’t you see the contradictions in your own behaviour?”
“Do you not you see the assumptions inherent in yours, doctor?”
McCoy shook his head, lost, and stared into the dark eyes, trying for all the world to reconcile the kindness, the gentle nature, the warmth that he had seen in the meld with Spock, with the coldness that could ignore Jim’s pain.
Spock then shattered his world view by leaning over Jim, taking McCoy’s chin in his hands and kissing him warmly on the lips. McCoy was frozen, terrified. Have I lost my mind? he wondered. Am I hallucinating this?
“You are assuming that I only desire to have one mate,” said Spock softly into his ear, before releasing McCoy and leaning back to stroke Jim’s forehead gently.
McCoy seriously considered running screaming from the room at that point, because he had really, really, liked that kiss.
And Spock knew that he had won the game, because he knew that Jim was fully awake despite his screwed shut eyes, as he had felt the emotion of overwhelming arousal from Jim through their linked hands as Spock had leaned across to kiss McCoy.
The Vulcan smiled, and McCoy felt like any minute now a big white rabbit was going to hop into his room through the door and announce that it was late….
For some reason, that feeling seemed familiar.
McCoy rubbed his hands together over his face, and sighed, “I’ve never felt… how alien he is, more than I do right now. And damn it, Jim, we make all sorts of assumptions about him, about his emotions, about his behaviour… they could be all completely wrong! God knows, I was.”
Jim smiled. His mind was elsewhere, well, sort of. He was remembering that kiss, when Bones and Spock thought he was unconscious and the Vulcan had leaned across Jim and kissed the doctor. Jim still couldn’t think about it without getting an erection.
The door chimed a soft warning, then Spock strode in, but stopped when he saw that his cabin had occupants.
“Hey, Spock, c’mere,” murmured Jim, and leaned across and touched the Vulcan’s fingers and lips softly. Spock kissed Jim, and McCoy remembered that kiss, and felt a strange stirring….
Then Spock finished kissing Jim, and turned and offered his hand to McCoy, who hesitated, lifted his hand and brushed it gently across the Vulcan’s and smiled.
“Hey, Spock,” McCoy’s voice was gentle, a far cry from the abrasive voice that he used to address the Vulcan in public.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” asked Spock gently of them both.
Jim raised his expressive face to the Vulcan, then looked significantly at McCoy.
Bones picked up the ball and ran with it. He was good at that, “Well, Spock, we were thinking about the idea that you had… that the three of us could… and we thought it would be a good idea, and we… well, we just weren’t sure what the mechanics of it all should be… where we should start, what the customs are…. it’s kind of a Vulcan thing, so we wondered if you could help us out…”
“It would be my honour, gentlemen… and my pleasure.”
Spock stepped into the back of his cabin to don his meditation robes, and two pairs of eyes automatically followed him, then the doctor and the captain looked at each other, guiltily. Then they both stopped, realising that there was no need for jealousy, or guilt….
“Sorry, Jim. I’m still trying to get used to this. How are you coping? Any second thoughts?”
“No, none at all Bones. Although, I must admit, it does feel like we’re sailing into uncharted waters, here,” his eyes drifted back towards the alcove where Spock was.
“Hmmph. So that’s the hook he used for you….” realised McCoy, smiling quietly.
Jim glanced at him sharply, “We’re playing for keeps here, Bones, you do realise that, don’t you?”
Bones nodded, realising that Spock was silent and was probably absorbing every word.
Jim looked suddenly thoughtful, “What hook did he use for you, Bones?”
Jim looked surprised, and suddenly very young and vulnerable.
Don’t let us hurt him, thought McCoy, thinking of the younger man opposite him, Please, Spock, don’t let us hurt him….
“I need a drink, Jim.”
“Yep,” said Bones, reaching gratefully for the Saurian Brandy that was handed to him.
He sat down, and said quietly, “Wow. I feel like I’ve been peeled apart, layer by layer. I think he knows things about me now that I don’t know about me.”
“It does that. Are you okay?”
Bones nodded, “Just scared. Two melds, and…the, um…. God, he’s so damned Vulcan!”
“You know, so… alien. His needs, his wants, his approach, his thoughts… so damned alien. And yet, some of him seems… so human. Better than human,” Bones looked at his feet, and added quietly, “He’s the warmest damned person I’ve ever met, since…. since you. I expected alien, and cold, Jim, but not… the warmth.”
“Are you alright, Bones?”
“Yeah… it’s just that I didn’t expect to…. get so attached to him, so quickly,” admitted Bones, ducking a quick look up at Jim to gauge his response. It was a warm smile.
“I’d say it’s a side effect of the meld, Bones, but I think it’s a direct effect of Spock.”
“What do you mean?”
“The attachment. He’s just so damned adorable.”
“Yeah! That’s the word I’d use. Only… I’d never have thought to use it, about him, not until now.”
“Want another one?”
“Hey? Oh, ah… no, thanks. I didn’t realise I had drunk that one so quickly.”
Jim sat down next to him, and asked softly, “So when can I come to one of your little meld parties?”
“Oh, yeah, almost forgot, Spock asked me to tell you, tomorrow night, his cabin.”
“The big one, eh?”
“I mean, the big test. He said if it works, the three-way meld, we can go ahead… with the rest.”
McCoy gazed at his empty glass, wondering if it had been wise to refuse that second drink…
“How the hell did I get myself into this?”
Jim grinned, “You met me.”
“It’ll be fine, Bones.”
“That’s what you always say.”
The next evening, they sat side by side on Spock’s bunk, both looking a little nervous. Spock surveyed them at first fondly, then a little possessively, then ruefully, and commented, “This will not work if you two insist on behaving like that.”
“Like what?” asked Jim.
“Got any advice for us, Spock?” asked Bones.
“Yes. Relax. If you remember nothing else, simply…. relax.”
Jim nodded, but Bones still looked nervous.
Spock sat down on a chair before them, and looked at Bones, “You melded with me last night, Leonard. Why do you look so nervous now?”
“It’s not you, it’s Jim,” said Bones, giving Jim an apologetic look to take the sting out of his words, “I’ve never melded with him.”
“I will remain in control of the meld, Leonard. It will be brief, and a surface meld. There will be no trouble.”
“So you say,” said Bones.
“Come on Bones, relax. Don’t make it hard for yourself. If you don’t like what’s happening, just ask and Spock will stop the meld.”
“Can he?” asked Bones. “Jim, I know your mind from observation of your actions and words. I know it has to be pretty dynamic in there. Do you really think that Spock can control that?”
“If I did not think I could control the meld, I would not be taking the risk,” advised Spock, and waited until McCoy turned to look at him before adding carefully, “With either of you.”
“There, Bones. How much safer can you get?” asked Jim, smiling at Spock fondly.
Then Spock leaned forward with sudden resolve, and placed a hand slowly up to each of their faces, and Bones felt the newly familiar sensation of the meld…. he felt the ordered, gentle patterns of Spock’s disciplined mind…until he felt Jim’s mind, with Spock’s and his, and the world dropped out from under him like he was on a roller coaster, and he felt….. like he was tumbling inside a kaleidoscope of emotions and words, falling into a world of intuition and sudden decisions, flying through a thousand worlds of powerful feelings…. but then Spock was somehow with him in the meld, slowing things down, protecting him from the dynamo that was Jim’s mind.
“Wow….” murmured Jim, finding the new and powerful ocean of emotions in the meld that was McCoy, and diving in to explore….
McCoy was surrounded by warmth, and it was sooooo seductive….
Spock was busy directing and controlling the meld, and it was a very complex task, even for him….
Jim was just having an enormous amount of fun, and was brimming with joy……
There was a point where Spock realised that it was all going terribly well, and that they might as well commence the next phase right now, because they were all basking in pleasure and pretty soon that was going to lead to arousal anyway… and it did…
McCoy felt himself pushed gently back on the bed, along with Jim, and then he felt eager, hot lips kissing him, and soon found himself engulfing a familiar shape with his mouth, as he went down on Jim, who was almost cross-eyed with pleasure because at the same time Spock was entering him from behind, and it was all right there in the meld… the glorious pleasure, the intense sensations…..
A mouth settled around McCoy, he did not know whose, but it was skilled, oh so skilled and he was surrounded by warmth and intense emotions and limbs…. Then the roller coaster took off for all of them and the pleasure was building and intense and inside and without all of them, and they were all giving small cries of pleasure, building eventually to shouts of joy as all three of them climaxed in unison.
Hours later McCoy awoke with a shudder, in a tangle of warm, smooth limbs and with a pair of blue eyes gazing lovingly into his… and someone was inside him, and he realised that it must be Spock…. he closed his eyes again and sighed a sigh of deep contentment, as Jim asked once more, “You okay, Bones?”
Bones smiled, and nodded, then gasped a little as the sleepy Vulcan nuzzled his neck from behind and gave a gentle thrust to push himself home within the doctor’s body. Jim kissed him, teasing gently against his lips until they parted and the human claimed his mouth eagerly, but Bones was too exhausted to stay awake for long….
A little later that night, Spock awoke to find himself still thrust deeply into someone, he wasn’t really able to figure out who. He looked at the two sleeping faces before him and touched their minds gently…. basking in the alpha waves of human sleep, which flowed over his mind and soothed him… he stared just a mite possessively at his two bondmates, his t’hylara, and felt contentment such as he had never known pulling him back into sleep.
The next morning, for the first time ever since he had arrived on the Enterprise, Jim awoke and was just a little bit reluctant to get up and go to work.