Title: Jefferies Tube
Rating: Light R
Characters: Spock/McCoy
Series: Star Trek TOS
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. This is for fun.
A/N: Written for st_tos_kink on livejournal. The request was "Spock/McCoy, stuck in a very small enclosed space, completely turned on by this and unable to hide it."
. . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . .
Being stuck in a Jefferies tube with a Vulcan sounded like the start of a bad joke. McCoy didn't see where the punch line was either.
Maybe it was that he was fool enough to get in this situation in the first place.
He couldn't see Spock's face clearly. Somewhere above them, a yellow light flashed on and off. He'd seen it a few times before. Never a good sign: it signaled that emergency power was being used to keep the life support on in this section, but the rest was gone. It was enough to make out sparse details though, like the outline of his face. The angular lines. The fact that Spock's eyes were closed, almost as if in meditation.
The doctor fidgeted. The power to all turbolifts had been cut earlier by that thing that'd accidentally come up with them from that dead planet. What had that scientist moon-eyeing over it at first called it? "Andromeda?" McCoy wasn't even sure. The man was dead now. Ten dead crewmen later, mostly ripped to shreds around the ship, and the damn thing had grown three times its original size, with an appetite and a temper to match. All they'd been able to find out about it so far was that it was startlingly fast for its size and that it had a knack for learning.
And they'd somehow actually managed to lose it in the ship. Andromeda had vanished without a trace for several hours. For all their technology, none of the scans were picking it up. Jim had ordered security teams to sweep every nook and cranny of the Enterprise in the mean time.
That had been hours earlier.
A call had come in just moments ago; there'd been more casualties, this time in engineering. McCoy had been on the way from sickbay to engineering when the power had abruptly cut out in the hallway. All the doors on the hallway opened with a faint rush of air. McCoy froze. The hairs rose on the back of his neck. He couldn't hear it, but there was something in the room, just that sensation that there was something else occupying the darkness. He had a phaser on him, but the chances of him actually hitting it in the dark were--
McCoy never got a chance to finish that thought. He was yanked bodily up into the ceiling. For a moment, it felt like his stomach hadn't followed. He was crushed up against another humanoid suddenly. The walls closed in on him. A hot hand pressed itself hard against his mouth, clamping down on the muffled curse. McCoy tried to roughly shove the shadow away from him and scramble out. Whoever it was, wasn't having it. The grip got even firmer.
The person leaned in, the light from above touching on pointed ears. McCoy froze.
Spock?!
The sudden realization was enough to make the doctor stop fighting. Almost as if in answer, Spock relaxed his grip, although he didn't release him. Dark eyes flicked downwards. He was suddenly aware of a low series of croaking grunts approaching them.
McCoy got a glimpse through their feet of the animal. It padded below the Jefferies tube. Even in the blinking light, he could make out several sets of teeth, a single glowing eye, and two spines protruding from its hips. A dark liquid that looked suspiciously like blood stained its fangs, dripping onto the grating below. Its three tails swayed lazily at the air as it paused below them. McCoy tightened his grip on the ladder railing. Spock tightened his other arm around the doctor's stomach. One wrong move, and they'd give away their position. Or just as bad, they'd both go tumbling down.
Andromeda finally padded off. Spock slowly released his mouth. McCoy started to speak when the Vulcan gave the slightest shake of his head. McCoy's mouth flew shut.
That strange creaking growl sounded again. The creature was lurking in the hallway, its footsteps echoing as it prowled somewhere out of sight. McCoy looked at Spock. Considering that they could be torn to shreds at anytime, he didn't even look phased. Instead, Spock had his eyes closed . He was taking small, even breaths, and seemed determined to ignore that McCoy was even there.
Where was Jim? A security team? Anyone? How long were they going to have to wait here?
McCoy's eyes flickered down. He couldn't see it, but he could damn well feel it. Spock's leg was jammed right between his own. He tried to ignore that sudden thought, but once in his mind, it was hard to get rid of. Each small breath either of them took was rubbing Spock's leg against him, and McCoy was suddenly very much aware of the body heat the Vulcan was giving off. It almost made him feel heady, a sudden jolt going right down his stomach. He'd be damned if it wasn't starting to feel good. McCoy swallowed, and managed not to thrust against the Vulcan's thigh. If he was lucky, Spock wouldn't comment. He wouldn't, he was sure of it.
It's a perfectly normal reaction, McCoy told himself anyway. It was nothing to be ashamed of. Years of medical practice saw to that, built up a good sense of clinical detachment and maturity. You had two healthy, warm-blooded (well, just him, Spock was as cold as they came) males, an enclosed space (these blasted tubes were really meant for one body), body temperatures rising from the bare bones life support and close contact, adrenaline pumping and friction. He'd be worried if there wasn't a biological reaction. It was only logical that a body reacted like this under the circumstances.
...Did his subconscious just sound like Spock right there?
Spock suddenly spoke softly. The Vulcan had leaned forward (when? McCoy hadn't even noticed), his mouth right next to his ear. McCoy jumped in surprise, both at change in position and the answering erection suddenly pressed against his hip.
"Doctor," Spock's voice had a strange ragged quality to it. "While I would not be adverse to continuing this exercise in the future, now is not the time."
(end)