Divide and Conquer - [Surprise Pon Farr] - [Day 5 of NVC]

[cso_spock]

It occurred to Spock that his body may not have been changing for no reason. That, by some surprise, there was some purpose for all of this, and that his erratic sleep schedule and diet were not coincidental or unrelated in any way. The internal demands to organize his new-found home should not have been taken as an independent event, either. Taken

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[Leonard - A Further And Even More Indefinite Time Later]

[cso_spock]

Sore. That’s what his body was telling him. Spock’s mind was still reeling, still rushing from the fight like it always seemed to when Jim was involved. The hunger persisted, screaming for something warm and powerful, the nearest threat and perhaps the great conquest.

Spock had never felt more Vulcan in his life, though he probably wouldn’t recall this in the future.

Out in the hall, on the second floor landing, he shouldered a wall as he fumbled with the communicator, trembling fingers prying open the case. Why? They were both asleep and why did he still burn, a tangible ache in his thoughts-

“Leonard.” He kept the growl from his voice-wouldn’t do to scare the prey from the nest. “Leonard. It is Jim, at my ha-kel.” The perfect lure, so easy to choose. “He needs you. I need you.”

The communicator dropped from his hand to the floor, unworthy of his attention now that he could picture the prize on the horizon. He slunk down the staircase, all quiet footsteps and movements.

[cso_spock]

His hands came up to push down at Leonard's shoulders, holding him down. The position provided some base advantages: a better anchor to hold him down but also some small relief. His cock pressed between Leonard's buttocks and the pressure made him sigh quietly, breathing out against the skin of his back. Spock could have fucked him right there. He wanted to. Yet something was still off, his instincts telling him to wait.

But he was tired of waiting. "Leonard." Spock wanted him to stop fighting, stop running away, to open his mind and Let go, can you, pleasesohotoohot...

[dctr_mccoy]

But Bones couldn't not fight against it, the sudden feeling of someone, of Spock against him there. Fucking him. Was wrong, he felt wrong about it all inside. Needed to fight it. No. Can't.

Then Bones felt him again, another surge inside his head, almost pleading. It felt so good, like a warm bath and finally Bones allowed himself to feel it, to revel, just a little in the affectionattentionlove he felt pouring in from the Vulcan. His body was pinned to the counter, the sharp angles cutting into his hips and stomach but that sense of the physical seemed to go away when he let Spock deeper into his mind.

[cso_spock]

Spock rumbled, body and mind, pleasure and warmth curling through him and the man underneath him. His hands stroked down Leonard's arms, over his shoulders and down his sides.

Then he nipped at his neck, something sharp to tell him don't move before he pulled back. The mental silence was a brief but a noticeable vacuum against the constant din of Spock's mind, and as soon as the roar died away it came back again, as Spock set his hand at the base of Leonard's spine.

He had swiped a bottle off the back shelf, a handy remnant from the last time he had tried to eat dinner, some time in the past.

[dctr_mccoy]

The bites kept him in the present, meant to keep him docile but served more to remind him of the physical, and the physical was hurting. The mind was what he wanted to feel more of, that blissful friction inside their heads.

Spock was gone, then he was back and he was closer than before. Heavy. Hot. Bones' legs pushed back against them, trying to get away from the counter.

[cso_spock]

At the push, Spock pushed back, affording more friction and thus more relief for himself. His knuckles were white around the neck of the bottle and he felt how heavy it was, how the olive oil sloshed as he moved it.

His hand continued to press firm at the small of Leonard's back as he leaned back for more space again. His hand shook unconsciously as he tipped the bottle upside down. The liquid flowed from the narrow spout, dripped over Leonard's skin, over his buttocks, and down his thighs.

Then he dropped it carelessly to the side where it landed on the tile with a heavy, sickening thud but didn't break, as per the synthetic polymers were designed for. With his now-free hand, Spock smeared the oil, letting out a ragged breath as it warmed the skin, shuddering as his fingers slid over but not into Leonard's entrance.

[dctr_mccoy]

Instinct again, something primal inside him that instinctively wanted him to retreat, a fight or flight instinct that hadn't yet been controlled by Spock's fingers on his face. But the floor was slippery now too, oil spilling and not giving his feet any purchase, and Bones' hands were just as useless, unable to do much more than claw at the counters.

He felt the liquid, knew what Spock wantedneeded, and still somewhere inside his head Bones didn't believe it - this was like a dream, not real.

None of this could be real.

[cso_spock]

Soft and warm and slick -- instinctively, Spock liked this very much, adored how correct it felt. He couldn't keep himself from doing what was necessary then, not while he could and there were no challengers to stop him. When he finally slid into him he let out a breathless, desperate moan, completely unrestrained and straight from his very core--all animal, all instinct, all Vulcan.

Spock leaned over Leonard's body, feeling hotter and more feverish than ever to the point where even pressing his forehead to the back of a shoulder did nothing to cool or calm him. His clean hand slid up to spread his fingertips over Leonard's face again, digging into his cheek and chin. The connection between them ripped open wide, thoughts pouringflowingcrashing up against their mental walls. His other hand, slick with oil, dug nails into Leonard's hip, something to give him purchase.

And once he had caught his breath, found some thin shred of focus, his hips tightened, withdrew, and thrust forward.

[dctr_mccoy]

Bones felt the burning inside, all over him, like being branded. So sharp, the feeling of toomuchtoofastfucknonotlikethat chanted in his head like a litany but all he could actually vocalize was a howling sort of growl - angry at himself, at Spock, at Jim, at everyone.

Still looking for something to grab, his fingers finally found a cool piece of marble and he held onto it tight, knuckles white from gripping it to keep him from being jostled around too much. Then that wave in his head again, this one more powerful that any of the others, this one washed away all the frightened and angry thoughts, like high tide receding.

He knew Spock was fucking him hard, could feel himself being fucked across that counter, but the thoughts in his head were Spock and him and memories of them both, things he'd forgotten from his life and things about Spock he couldn't possibly know. He felt Spock's animalian pleasure in fucking him, feeling the Vulcan fever abated more and more with each rough thrust into him, almost understanding the need.

[cso_spock]

Something strange and new overcame him after an extended time with Leonard. The fire didn't rekindled itself but smoldered instead and set a bone-deep satisfaction in him that he hadn't remembered feeling in the entirety of his life. He felt comfortably full, pleased and accomplished.

Yet Leonard was tired -- he could tell by the touch, listening to his breathing and feeling the quiver of his muscles. He would let him rest; surely the others would have recovered by now.

Spock slid his arms underneath Leonard and pulled him off of the counter and against his own chest. He mouthed at his neck for a few moments, tasting the skin and the sweat and indulging in the limitless time he had to enjoy this. First, he manhandled him onto the counter to finally get the rest of those clothes off, and then picked him up bride-style. His main den lay on the upper floor.

But, coming to the top of the stairs, other instincts told him that yes, Leonard was tired, couldn't be pushed to breaking. Couldn't do that to his adun'a, any of them. So he put