Need
Title: Need
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Porn. Also, while there is mutual agreement to this, there might still be some consent issues.
Pairing: Spock/McCoy
Summary: It's porn. Spock and McCoy are alone on some planet when something triggers Spock's pon farr. There are some minor issues to be discussed, but mainly it's just porn.
Words: 2816
Note: Wrote this for a prompt at st_tos_kink .
The burning is over him again. Spock shudders and retreats deeper into the shadows, pressing against the wall of the cave as if it could protect him from the violent desire, the curse of his ancestors. The part of his mind that still functions rationally informs him that the opposite is the case: the minerals inside the rock are most likely responsible for his body’s reaction. He has not been prepared for this, has not been prepared to face this for another six years. He should never have come here. Most of all he should never have come here with him.
McCoy is still standing in the mouth of the cave, still attempting to hail the ship. He will not succeed; the same rocks that are causing the fire in Spock’s nerves are preventing any communication. They will have to wait until the others look for them. Too long. Too long.
The downpour of rain has not lessened, but the sky is bright enough to fill the world outside with grey light. In front of the brightness McCoy is but a dark outline; dwarfed by the rocks around him and from this distance he looks even slimmer than usual. Fragile. Vulnerable.
Defenceless.
Spock takes another step back and closes his eyes. He breathes deeply.
-
When he opens his eyes, the human is right before him, shaking him. Spock catches one glance at blue eyes looking at him in concern, then his hand wraps around the fragile throat and he throws himself forward, slamming the slight body against the cave wall and trapping it there. In the shadows of the rocks Spock presses against McCoy, chest against chest, thigh against thigh, and keeps pushing.
“Spock,” McCoy whispers, breathless.
“Do not touch me!” Spock means to yell but it comes out as a hiss. He leans in and presses his face against the human’s neck, inhaling his smell. Skin touches skin; his mind yearns for the contact, the bond that wants to form.
“You’re the one who’s doing the touching.” Still McCoy is not frightened. Spock senses his confusion, his worry, but also his trust that Spock will not harm him. He smells of the rain; Spock wants to taste that smell so he runs his tongue over the damp skin, barely keeps himself from biting down. McCoy does not fight him, but his confusion and worry grow. His mind is familiar, too easily accessible. With effort, Spock lets go, pushes himself away.
“Leave,” he says, harshly, before he doubles over in pain. McCoy does not leave. He is beside Spock in a second, supporting him; his touch hurts because it is almost too much to resist. Spock shoves him away, hard enough for the human to stumble and fall over.
“My god, Spock, what’s wrong with you?”
“It is pon farr.” He would never admit this so openly in another context, but the doctor must be warned. “You cannot touch me.”
“How can it be pon farr? Why so suddenly?” Against the warning given to him, McCoy comes closer. “Is something on this planet causing it?”
Clever human. “Yes.” Spock snarls at him, then falls to his knees. Before McCoy reaches him he finds the strength to shout, “Not closer! I will hurt you.”
The human stops, but does not go away. “Why? Do you consider me a rival?” He takes yet another step closer, his palms shown in a gesture of peace. “There is no one here to fight over, Spock.”
Spock only stares at him, and McCoy stops. In the meagre light, the Vulcan sees him pale, as perhaps he recalls him licking his throat, or the hardness pressing against his thigh. “Oh,” he says. After a moment, however, his posture straightens. “Very well.”
“Leave!” Spock hisses again. “Do you not see the danger you are in, foolish human?”
“I see the danger you are in, Spock.” If McCoy is afraid he does not show it. “You will die if you don’t get this out of your system, right? So you have to get it out.”
“No.” Spock shakes his head, needing all his will to keep up the conversation, to keep from jumping at the human and hold him to the ground with the weight of his body, without chance of escape. “No you.”
“I know I’m hardly your first choice,” McCoy says, sounding somewhat embarrassed but still not afraid. “But there is no alternative around at the moment.” He does not understand.
Spock has no memory of moving, but he is right in front of McCoy now, and they’re both kneeling on the ground, and McCoy’s eyes are wide with shock as long fingers close around his wrists in an iron grip hard enough to bruise skin and shift bones. Spock’s fingers easily encircle the thin arms completely. “You cannot fight me.” It is hard to hold back - McCoy is too close and the fire too painful. “Do you understand? You cannot resist at all. You must submit to me completely or I will surely harm you.”
A part of Spock is convinced that the human, so argumentative in nature, will back out and run; the same part is overcome with panic when he realises that it is too late: he cannot let go now, and McCoy has no hope of getting away from him even if he should try…
“I get it,” McCoy whispers, his words almost lost in Spock’s pained groan. “Go on then.”
-
Despite McCoy’s determination there is a moment of hesitation, even resistance, when their minds touch and mingle. This invasion the human does fear but Spock cannot hold back any longer nor does he want to. While his body pushes against and into the other on the hard ground of the cave, his mind enters the human’s regardless of any barriers and unvoiced protests. The violent possessiveness, the need to take all of his chosen is too strong to fight any longer. His hands, already bruising, hold the human even tighter, harshly reminding him that he is his and has to follow no will but Spock’s.
McCoy cries out when Spock’s mind fills his; Spock hears it as if from a distance. He has little awareness of his surroundings anymore, only knows the burning inside him and the relief that comes over him with the taking of his mate. And Leonard knows it as well; the moment Spock has forced his way inside he gives up and gives in and opens to him, surrendering completely. His own thoughts and feelings are drowned in the onslaught of the fever and he only knows Spock’s pain and desire, sharing it.
Helpless and needy he tries to meet Spock’s thrusts, to actively assist in reaching their shared goal. Against Spock’s strength and speed, however, he doesn’t stand a chance. In the end he can only gasp and try to hold on as Spock’s forceful thrust slowly move him across the ground.
The human comes long before him, but the orgasm brings no release. He whimpers when instead the need only increases - Spock feels the sound more than he hears it, while he moves his hands and his tongue over the sweat-covered body, trying to savour ever feeling, every smell and taste while Leonard is splayed open and willing beneath him.
Spock’s own release takes them both over the edge. The world swirls around them and falls and is gone and when Spock becomes aware of his own body again, he is lying on his back, breathing hard, McCoy held tightly against him.
His sweat is drying in the cool air, making his shiver.
“Oh God,” McCoy groans weakly, and his breath against Spock’s damp skin makes his shiver as well. “Please tell me it’s over.”
“It would be advisable to leave this planet as soon as possible,” Spock says. In his arms, McCoy stiffens.
“What do you mean? It is over, isn’t it?”
“The influence that triggered the blood fever in the first place is still there. With your much appreciated help I was able to find temporary release, but the longer we remain in this place, the stronger it will once again become.”
McCoy is silent for a moment. “We need to reach the ship then, as soon as possible.” He tries to get to his feet, and with some reluctance, Spock lets him go. “Don’t get me wrong - that was surely the most intensive sexual experience of my life, but I don’t think I would survive another round.”
He might be correct about that. Getting to his feet as well, Spock takes hold of the doctor’s chin and turns his face to inspect the bruises he left. There are more, all over his body. They have not been prepared for this.
“There is no need for you to apologize, Doctor. On the contrary, I owe you my gratitude.”
“You can buy me a drink when we’re safely away from here.” McCoy brushes his hand away - not aggressively so but to bend down and collect his shirt. He finds that Spock, in his eagerness to expose him, has torn it apart. Then he looks down at the scratches and bite marks covering his chest and stomach. “We’ve got a lot to explain when we get back.”
“You can wear my shirt,” Spock offers. “I believe it is unharmed, and my body is sporting no obvious signs of our activity.”
“You know, Spock, Jim will want to know who gave you the authority to promote me to commander.” McCoy’s lips curve into a sour smile. The next second Spock is licking the corner of his mouth before he moves in for a full kiss. Leonard is startled only for a moment. Then he parts his lips, moaning in desire against Spock’s lips as the Vulcan’s tongue enters his mouth. His conscious thoughts are washed, once again replaced by Spock’s wanton need. It’s happening too quickly. With Leonard’s naked body grinding against him, the fire comes back within seconds.
Spock has just enough control left to push him away. Confused and needy, Leonard reaches for him, but Spock retreats quickly to the mouth of the cave. The desperate need of his abandoned mate calls out to him, makes it hard to keep moving.
“I believe I will be able to tune my communicator so that I can reach the ship and have them take us back,” he explains, fighting for his logic, his mind. “For that, I need to think, and I cannot do so with you near me.”
Leonard has fallen to his knees, breathing hard. Just like Spock, he is struggling for control. The further they are apart, the longer their separation lasts the easier it becomes to think. The need, however, remains. They have to leave quickly.
The tuning of the communicator is difficult. Equations have to be made for the right frequency, and Spock’s mind is still greatly impaired. With every second that passes, it becomes harder to think.
After a while, Leonard comes over and crouches down in a save distance. He is still naked, but does not appear to feel the chill. While Spock works, he stares out into the rain.
Spock wants to take him.
Under different circumstances, he would have discovered the solution minutes ago. Now he wishes for a pen and paper to visualise the equation. He wishes for Leonard to spread his legs for him once again, for the cool tightness of the human body, for lips and fingers on his skin.
Leonard’s taste is lingering on his lips. It is distracting.
He needs to think. Needs relief from this desire that occupies his mind.
Looking up from his work he sees that Leonard has turned to face him, his gaze hungry and almost pained. He wants Spock as much as Spock wants him. The link between them forces him to.
He wants to please Spock. It is the only wish Spock senses in him.
And Spock needs to be pleased to keep thinking.
Commanded by practicality as well as desire, he opens his legs, and obedient as he has to be Leonard comes over and kneels before him, wraps his arms around Spock’s legs and his lips around his organ. The fulfilment of his desire brings relief from the pressure on Spock’s mind, so while Leonard pleases his body with mindless abandon, Spock leans back and gasps for the numbers that from the frequency he needs. He is distracted, briefly, when Leonard stills for a moment, and tenses, and a whimper escapes his filled mouth as he comes, untouched, from Spock’s pleasure. But Spock is not quite there yet, so Leonard resumes his activity, and Spock resumed thinking. Just before his equation is completed, he has to abandon thinking once again while his vision fades and his hips thrust up to spill his release deep into Leonard’s throat.
Afterwards, Leonard rolls to his back and gasps for air.
Finishing his work, Spock adjusts the setting of the communicator, but does not make the call yet. Being beamed up this moment, naked and sweaty, would free him from the influence of the planet but cause a kind of embarrassment he believes the doctor would not appreciate.
“Do you feel violated?” he asks, setting the communicator aside.
Leonard lets out a breathless laugh. “You’re asking that now?”
“Do you?”
“At the moment, I only feel you.” The human turns to his side and regards Spock with large, defenceless blue eyes. Spock’s eyes follow the trail a bead of sweat leaves on his skin. “I can hardly move, but I want you. I feel how you want me, how it hurts you to hold back, and I just want you to take me over and over…” He swallows, reaching out a hand. “Please Spock, let me…”
“We will be gone from here shortly.” Speaking is an effort. Spock’s voice trembles. The need does not go away; if they remain here much longer, they will both die. Leonard will be first, fragile human that he is. He will exhaust himself beyond the capacity to stay alive or break between Spock’s hands, leaving him to burn up in agony. “I would advice we get dressed before hailing the ship.”
“I can’t.” Leonard sounds pained, even as Spock stands and pulls him to his feet. Leonard slumps against him and mouths at his chest, his lips closing around a hard, greenish nipple. Ten seconds later Spock is pushing up against the wall and thrusting into him with such force Leonard is lifted off the ground and can only cling to him until Spock reaches the point of climax once again.
Leonard falls limply into his arms when it is over. With his mind no longer active to reflect Spock’s own desire back at him, the Vulcan regains control of his actions long enough to collect their clothes and slip into his pants and booths, leaving the shirt to Leonard. Dressing the unaware human is difficult for his hands desire to do different things to the still body than cover it in clothing. Taking him while he does not know it would be unethical, however, and the knowledge gives Spock the strength to finish his work and turn away.
Soon they will be gone from here and then it will be time to consider the consequences of this incident. While he goes to retrieve the communicator, Spock becomes aware, though, that there do not need to be any consequences. Their minds are joined, but after the link is broken and Leonard has become McCoy again, he can pretend not to know what he has seen in the human’s mind. And the human must never learn which of Spock’s feelings were caused by the pon farr, and which were not.
Everything can yet remain the same it has always been. Spock cannot think clearly enough to assess if he desires that.
Leonard regains his senses while Spock’s makes the call, requesting to be beamed up immediately. Seconds later the two of them materialise inside the transporter room. The burning fades within moments.
“Do you feel violated?” Spock asks for the second time, later, when they are alone in sickbay where McCoy treats his minor injuries at Spock’s insistence, his hands trembling slightly with exhaustion.
The doctor shakes his head. “I agreed to it, didn’t I?”
“But do you regret it?”
McCoy throws him a long, calculating look. “No.”
Spock nods. “Of course. As a doctor you feel it is your obligation…”
“Spock,” McCoy interrupts him. Spock looks into the open, tired face that just now breaks into a tender smile. “I hope you have nothing important planned for the upcoming shore leave. Because if I recall correctly, you owe me a drink.”
After a moment, Spock returns Leonard’s smile with a lift of his eyebrow and a nod of his head. “I believe I do.”
March 10, 2010
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Porn. Also, while there is mutual agreement to this, there might still be some consent issues.
Pairing: Spock/McCoy
Summary: It's porn. Spock and McCoy are alone on some planet when something triggers Spock's pon farr. There are some minor issues to be discussed, but mainly it's just porn.
Words: 2816
Note: Wrote this for a prompt at st_tos_kink .
The burning is over him again. Spock shudders and retreats deeper into the shadows, pressing against the wall of the cave as if it could protect him from the violent desire, the curse of his ancestors. The part of his mind that still functions rationally informs him that the opposite is the case: the minerals inside the rock are most likely responsible for his body’s reaction. He has not been prepared for this, has not been prepared to face this for another six years. He should never have come here. Most of all he should never have come here with him.
McCoy is still standing in the mouth of the cave, still attempting to hail the ship. He will not succeed; the same rocks that are causing the fire in Spock’s nerves are preventing any communication. They will have to wait until the others look for them. Too long. Too long.
The downpour of rain has not lessened, but the sky is bright enough to fill the world outside with grey light. In front of the brightness McCoy is but a dark outline; dwarfed by the rocks around him and from this distance he looks even slimmer than usual. Fragile. Vulnerable.
Defenceless.
Spock takes another step back and closes his eyes. He breathes deeply.
-
When he opens his eyes, the human is right before him, shaking him. Spock catches one glance at blue eyes looking at him in concern, then his hand wraps around the fragile throat and he throws himself forward, slamming the slight body against the cave wall and trapping it there. In the shadows of the rocks Spock presses against McCoy, chest against chest, thigh against thigh, and keeps pushing.
“Spock,” McCoy whispers, breathless.
“Do not touch me!” Spock means to yell but it comes out as a hiss. He leans in and presses his face against the human’s neck, inhaling his smell. Skin touches skin; his mind yearns for the contact, the bond that wants to form.
“You’re the one who’s doing the touching.” Still McCoy is not frightened. Spock senses his confusion, his worry, but also his trust that Spock will not harm him. He smells of the rain; Spock wants to taste that smell so he runs his tongue over the damp skin, barely keeps himself from biting down. McCoy does not fight him, but his confusion and worry grow. His mind is familiar, too easily accessible. With effort, Spock lets go, pushes himself away.
“Leave,” he says, harshly, before he doubles over in pain. McCoy does not leave. He is beside Spock in a second, supporting him; his touch hurts because it is almost too much to resist. Spock shoves him away, hard enough for the human to stumble and fall over.
“My god, Spock, what’s wrong with you?”
“It is pon farr.” He would never admit this so openly in another context, but the doctor must be warned. “You cannot touch me.”
“How can it be pon farr? Why so suddenly?” Against the warning given to him, McCoy comes closer. “Is something on this planet causing it?”
Clever human. “Yes.” Spock snarls at him, then falls to his knees. Before McCoy reaches him he finds the strength to shout, “Not closer! I will hurt you.”
The human stops, but does not go away. “Why? Do you consider me a rival?” He takes yet another step closer, his palms shown in a gesture of peace. “There is no one here to fight over, Spock.”
Spock only stares at him, and McCoy stops. In the meagre light, the Vulcan sees him pale, as perhaps he recalls him licking his throat, or the hardness pressing against his thigh. “Oh,” he says. After a moment, however, his posture straightens. “Very well.”
“Leave!” Spock hisses again. “Do you not see the danger you are in, foolish human?”
“I see the danger you are in, Spock.” If McCoy is afraid he does not show it. “You will die if you don’t get this out of your system, right? So you have to get it out.”
“No.” Spock shakes his head, needing all his will to keep up the conversation, to keep from jumping at the human and hold him to the ground with the weight of his body, without chance of escape. “No you.”
“I know I’m hardly your first choice,” McCoy says, sounding somewhat embarrassed but still not afraid. “But there is no alternative around at the moment.” He does not understand.
Spock has no memory of moving, but he is right in front of McCoy now, and they’re both kneeling on the ground, and McCoy’s eyes are wide with shock as long fingers close around his wrists in an iron grip hard enough to bruise skin and shift bones. Spock’s fingers easily encircle the thin arms completely. “You cannot fight me.” It is hard to hold back - McCoy is too close and the fire too painful. “Do you understand? You cannot resist at all. You must submit to me completely or I will surely harm you.”
A part of Spock is convinced that the human, so argumentative in nature, will back out and run; the same part is overcome with panic when he realises that it is too late: he cannot let go now, and McCoy has no hope of getting away from him even if he should try…
“I get it,” McCoy whispers, his words almost lost in Spock’s pained groan. “Go on then.”
-
Despite McCoy’s determination there is a moment of hesitation, even resistance, when their minds touch and mingle. This invasion the human does fear but Spock cannot hold back any longer nor does he want to. While his body pushes against and into the other on the hard ground of the cave, his mind enters the human’s regardless of any barriers and unvoiced protests. The violent possessiveness, the need to take all of his chosen is too strong to fight any longer. His hands, already bruising, hold the human even tighter, harshly reminding him that he is his and has to follow no will but Spock’s.
McCoy cries out when Spock’s mind fills his; Spock hears it as if from a distance. He has little awareness of his surroundings anymore, only knows the burning inside him and the relief that comes over him with the taking of his mate. And Leonard knows it as well; the moment Spock has forced his way inside he gives up and gives in and opens to him, surrendering completely. His own thoughts and feelings are drowned in the onslaught of the fever and he only knows Spock’s pain and desire, sharing it.
Helpless and needy he tries to meet Spock’s thrusts, to actively assist in reaching their shared goal. Against Spock’s strength and speed, however, he doesn’t stand a chance. In the end he can only gasp and try to hold on as Spock’s forceful thrust slowly move him across the ground.
The human comes long before him, but the orgasm brings no release. He whimpers when instead the need only increases - Spock feels the sound more than he hears it, while he moves his hands and his tongue over the sweat-covered body, trying to savour ever feeling, every smell and taste while Leonard is splayed open and willing beneath him.
Spock’s own release takes them both over the edge. The world swirls around them and falls and is gone and when Spock becomes aware of his own body again, he is lying on his back, breathing hard, McCoy held tightly against him.
His sweat is drying in the cool air, making his shiver.
“Oh God,” McCoy groans weakly, and his breath against Spock’s damp skin makes his shiver as well. “Please tell me it’s over.”
“It would be advisable to leave this planet as soon as possible,” Spock says. In his arms, McCoy stiffens.
“What do you mean? It is over, isn’t it?”
“The influence that triggered the blood fever in the first place is still there. With your much appreciated help I was able to find temporary release, but the longer we remain in this place, the stronger it will once again become.”
McCoy is silent for a moment. “We need to reach the ship then, as soon as possible.” He tries to get to his feet, and with some reluctance, Spock lets him go. “Don’t get me wrong - that was surely the most intensive sexual experience of my life, but I don’t think I would survive another round.”
He might be correct about that. Getting to his feet as well, Spock takes hold of the doctor’s chin and turns his face to inspect the bruises he left. There are more, all over his body. They have not been prepared for this.
“There is no need for you to apologize, Doctor. On the contrary, I owe you my gratitude.”
“You can buy me a drink when we’re safely away from here.” McCoy brushes his hand away - not aggressively so but to bend down and collect his shirt. He finds that Spock, in his eagerness to expose him, has torn it apart. Then he looks down at the scratches and bite marks covering his chest and stomach. “We’ve got a lot to explain when we get back.”
“You can wear my shirt,” Spock offers. “I believe it is unharmed, and my body is sporting no obvious signs of our activity.”
“You know, Spock, Jim will want to know who gave you the authority to promote me to commander.” McCoy’s lips curve into a sour smile. The next second Spock is licking the corner of his mouth before he moves in for a full kiss. Leonard is startled only for a moment. Then he parts his lips, moaning in desire against Spock’s lips as the Vulcan’s tongue enters his mouth. His conscious thoughts are washed, once again replaced by Spock’s wanton need. It’s happening too quickly. With Leonard’s naked body grinding against him, the fire comes back within seconds.
Spock has just enough control left to push him away. Confused and needy, Leonard reaches for him, but Spock retreats quickly to the mouth of the cave. The desperate need of his abandoned mate calls out to him, makes it hard to keep moving.
“I believe I will be able to tune my communicator so that I can reach the ship and have them take us back,” he explains, fighting for his logic, his mind. “For that, I need to think, and I cannot do so with you near me.”
Leonard has fallen to his knees, breathing hard. Just like Spock, he is struggling for control. The further they are apart, the longer their separation lasts the easier it becomes to think. The need, however, remains. They have to leave quickly.
The tuning of the communicator is difficult. Equations have to be made for the right frequency, and Spock’s mind is still greatly impaired. With every second that passes, it becomes harder to think.
After a while, Leonard comes over and crouches down in a save distance. He is still naked, but does not appear to feel the chill. While Spock works, he stares out into the rain.
Spock wants to take him.
Under different circumstances, he would have discovered the solution minutes ago. Now he wishes for a pen and paper to visualise the equation. He wishes for Leonard to spread his legs for him once again, for the cool tightness of the human body, for lips and fingers on his skin.
Leonard’s taste is lingering on his lips. It is distracting.
He needs to think. Needs relief from this desire that occupies his mind.
Looking up from his work he sees that Leonard has turned to face him, his gaze hungry and almost pained. He wants Spock as much as Spock wants him. The link between them forces him to.
He wants to please Spock. It is the only wish Spock senses in him.
And Spock needs to be pleased to keep thinking.
Commanded by practicality as well as desire, he opens his legs, and obedient as he has to be Leonard comes over and kneels before him, wraps his arms around Spock’s legs and his lips around his organ. The fulfilment of his desire brings relief from the pressure on Spock’s mind, so while Leonard pleases his body with mindless abandon, Spock leans back and gasps for the numbers that from the frequency he needs. He is distracted, briefly, when Leonard stills for a moment, and tenses, and a whimper escapes his filled mouth as he comes, untouched, from Spock’s pleasure. But Spock is not quite there yet, so Leonard resumes his activity, and Spock resumed thinking. Just before his equation is completed, he has to abandon thinking once again while his vision fades and his hips thrust up to spill his release deep into Leonard’s throat.
Afterwards, Leonard rolls to his back and gasps for air.
Finishing his work, Spock adjusts the setting of the communicator, but does not make the call yet. Being beamed up this moment, naked and sweaty, would free him from the influence of the planet but cause a kind of embarrassment he believes the doctor would not appreciate.
“Do you feel violated?” he asks, setting the communicator aside.
Leonard lets out a breathless laugh. “You’re asking that now?”
“Do you?”
“At the moment, I only feel you.” The human turns to his side and regards Spock with large, defenceless blue eyes. Spock’s eyes follow the trail a bead of sweat leaves on his skin. “I can hardly move, but I want you. I feel how you want me, how it hurts you to hold back, and I just want you to take me over and over…” He swallows, reaching out a hand. “Please Spock, let me…”
“We will be gone from here shortly.” Speaking is an effort. Spock’s voice trembles. The need does not go away; if they remain here much longer, they will both die. Leonard will be first, fragile human that he is. He will exhaust himself beyond the capacity to stay alive or break between Spock’s hands, leaving him to burn up in agony. “I would advice we get dressed before hailing the ship.”
“I can’t.” Leonard sounds pained, even as Spock stands and pulls him to his feet. Leonard slumps against him and mouths at his chest, his lips closing around a hard, greenish nipple. Ten seconds later Spock is pushing up against the wall and thrusting into him with such force Leonard is lifted off the ground and can only cling to him until Spock reaches the point of climax once again.
Leonard falls limply into his arms when it is over. With his mind no longer active to reflect Spock’s own desire back at him, the Vulcan regains control of his actions long enough to collect their clothes and slip into his pants and booths, leaving the shirt to Leonard. Dressing the unaware human is difficult for his hands desire to do different things to the still body than cover it in clothing. Taking him while he does not know it would be unethical, however, and the knowledge gives Spock the strength to finish his work and turn away.
Soon they will be gone from here and then it will be time to consider the consequences of this incident. While he goes to retrieve the communicator, Spock becomes aware, though, that there do not need to be any consequences. Their minds are joined, but after the link is broken and Leonard has become McCoy again, he can pretend not to know what he has seen in the human’s mind. And the human must never learn which of Spock’s feelings were caused by the pon farr, and which were not.
Everything can yet remain the same it has always been. Spock cannot think clearly enough to assess if he desires that.
Leonard regains his senses while Spock’s makes the call, requesting to be beamed up immediately. Seconds later the two of them materialise inside the transporter room. The burning fades within moments.
“Do you feel violated?” Spock asks for the second time, later, when they are alone in sickbay where McCoy treats his minor injuries at Spock’s insistence, his hands trembling slightly with exhaustion.
The doctor shakes his head. “I agreed to it, didn’t I?”
“But do you regret it?”
McCoy throws him a long, calculating look. “No.”
Spock nods. “Of course. As a doctor you feel it is your obligation…”
“Spock,” McCoy interrupts him. Spock looks into the open, tired face that just now breaks into a tender smile. “I hope you have nothing important planned for the upcoming shore leave. Because if I recall correctly, you owe me a drink.”
After a moment, Spock returns Leonard’s smile with a lift of his eyebrow and a nod of his head. “I believe I do.”
March 10, 2010