Written while listening to "Touch in the Night" by Battle Beast. Uncut version is on AO3.
Merlin is from the book Shadows on the Sun by Michael Jan Friedman. I like to think of Nurse Chapel as more of an independent character. The jellyfish is a reference to Mass Effect.
Spock glanced off the side of his bunk, his hand moving aside a cloth from the hood he wore, concealing his identity as a non-human. McCoy's eyes were closed from where he lay upon the uninhabited cot, though his sleep appeared light.
He theorized that the doctor was contemplating the violence occurring outside. There was nothing to be done, however, as the festival would continue unabated. It would not be safe for the doctor to venture out there.
He wondered if the doctor entertained the possibility of attempting to join him, on this bunk, but decided against pursuing that line of thinking further. His thoughts had been beginning to stray to the carnal after becoming involved with Leonard, and Spock found that to be concerning. It diverted his focus from more intellectual pursuits.
Then again, this could be considered an experiment.
McCoy handed a PADD over to him. "I want you to read over this carefully. This is a comprehensive list of what can go wrong, if we decide to continue with this." Spock searched over it. There were a few problems pointed out on the PADD, such as diseases that could be transmitted between each humanoid species, with their being close enough in DNA. On the human side, McCoy had noted down several infamous sexually transmitted diseases, most notably HIV, which had at last been nullified during the previous century. For Spock, there were concerns as to the fragility of his hybrid anatomy, particularly in compatibility of bodily fluids.
"These are factors, but they can be mitigated," Spock commented at last, placing the PADD aside. "You are qualified to handle them."
McCoy smiled, and, placing his hand about Spock's cheek, tilted his face up for a kiss. Spock set the PADD down on the table to grasp handfuls of his lover's uniform shirt. He wanted his heat and his scent, then, simply because he could. Illogical, but he found enjoyment in the sensations as McCoy's hands ran over him.
Spock faced the wall and focused himself upon a light meditation to shut out the racket below.
XXXXXX
McCoy awoke to the sound of voices, talking in low tones. Scrambling, he sat up, and drew himself backward. There were robed men, four of them, who were picking over the bodies of his unconscious crew mates. He was sitting the closest to Jim and Spock, both out cold. "Leave them alone!" McCoy demanded.
A robed head rose at his voice. "Oh, the doctor is awake," he commented, coming over to stand before him.
McCoy brushed his hand against his side and mumbled under his breath upon realizing that his sidearm was missing. "What do you want with us?"
The man before him spread his arms. "Why, to help you, brother! I see it in your eyes, you are suffering, as are your friends. Landru will make that all go away."
"Thanks for the offer, but I'll pass," he replied, folding his arms.
The figure before him turned to glance at Spock's unconscious form, and McCoy scooted close to the Vulcan, glaring sharply up at the stranger.
"He is a greater threat to us," one of the robed men commented.
McCoy protectively placed a hand over Spock's head. "That's a foolish notion. If you erase his mind, then he'll be functionally useless to you. He'll need someone to care for him."
The robed men looked at one another. Turning back, one asked, "Are you proposing a deal?"
"Yes," he replied, his hand falling from Spock, and hoping that this would buy Jim enough time. "The people you have on the surface level are mindless."
"That is the point," another replied, motioning for a guard to come over to McCoy.
The doctor drew back as he was prodded against before shoving the rod away. "You didn't let me finish. I can work on them, perhaps to halt the necessity for this festival of yours at all. It causes needless destruction."
"We can't guarantee that," one of the men replied, "Nevertheless, it is up to the will of Landru. If he finds your proposal to be sound, he will grant you your wish."
McCoy nodded his head solemnly. "All right, I'll go with you. Just leave them alone."
"They will have to come with us in due time, doctor. Nevertheless, we will respect your wishes for the time being. This way, please."
As the metal restraints locked over his wrists, McCoy knew immediately that he had made a mistake. Nevertheless, there was no going back now. "Relax, doctor, it will all be over soon," a robed man said, dropping his hood to reveal a shaved head, and walking away.
McCoy took his gaze from him and froze. His eyes widened, taking in the fullness of the light. A presence, bright and warm, reached out and enveloped him. A voice spoke in his head, so gentle and soft, coaxing him to open his mind, and let go of his pain. It would be taken care of.
McCoy understood everything in one moment, and the next, his consciousness was ripped away.
XXXXXX
Spock felt something akin to horror upon seeing Leonard so changed, miles beneath the surface of that planet. He was utterly blank in gaze and spouting off praises about the so-called "body." He and McCoy had spoken briefly on the idea of mental dialogues between them, but the talks had not gone far. Spock could understand why, but this situation appeared different to him. He had to try. He would apologize to Leonard later.
Standing over him, his black cloak gathering, Spock found himself relishing the prospect of an argument with him again. Raising his hand to McCoy's head, he began to initiate a mind meld.
Someone was calling out to Leonard where he was, adrift in his bliss. The words were cold, and distant. McCoy stirred once but didn't continue. He didn't want to go back to the pain of living. He wanted that other voice, so familiar to him, but so far away, to leave him be. Retreating from it, he relaxed in the solace of darkness. He need not worry about anything, ever again. Landru would take care of him. Landru took care of everyone.
Spock released McCoy's face. The man was but a shell, now, of who he once was. He couldn't find him, and at the notion of having lost him forever, felt the irrationality of fear within him. His release of it went noticed by his crew mates as a soft breath, nothing more. He didn't want to think of his lover during that red hour. The doctor, despite the acid he spat, was not a man predisposed to violence. McCoy would hate himself for it. But then again, he wouldn't, would he? His personality was slowly being erased, if it had not been, already.
It was unacceptable, Spock decided, although he knew that line of thinking to be irrational, as well. There was nothing that he could have done to protect Leonard, having been unconscious during the doctor's forced assimilation, but he couldn't keep images of his lover from his mind. He thought of the uncertainty on McCoy's face as he hovered near the captain's chair while Kirk fought the Gorn. He thought as well of his closeness to McCoy that day, on the bridge in front of the crew, no less, with their arms and fingers brushing more than once, not sure if whether their touches would be the last, if Kirk lost.
No, he decided, he wouldn't consider him lost. This planet could not have him.
XXXXXX
"Mind if I ask you something?"
"An illogical question," Spock commented, not bothering to glance up from his PADD as he typed, "You have already asked me something by saying that."
McCoy scowled at that but decided against leaving. He needed an answer to this. "I see. Well, does the superior Vulcan have time for an illogical human such as me?"
"A limited amount. Please be brief," Spock replied.
McCoy internally gave a sigh of relief. It would be easier to slip the question by Spock this way. Nevertheless, it had probably been nothing, and the Vulcan's attention division wouldn't be so damning as would a full-on conversation. Quietly, he asked, "Did you meld with me on Beta III?"
There was a hesitation. It was ever so slight, that McCoy thought for a moment that he had imagined Spock's fingers pausing. Then Spock said, keeping his head down on his work. "Yes."
McCoy swallowed, and glanced about. He fought down the compulsion to bring the back of his hand across Spock's face. He felt violated, and his teeth ground together at the notion of what Spock might have seen. Slackening his jaw, he replied tightly, "Well, I hope I was entertaining enough for you."
Spock lifted his head at that, a flicker of electricity passing through his eyes for a moment. "Doctor, that was an unfair assumption of you to make." McCoy's eyes widened at the fact that he had managed to get an emotional reaction out of Spock. However, he didn't smile at it. Spock almost appeared wounded at his assumption. Spock continued, "I could neither find you, nor hear your voice. I did not register any of your thoughts."
"I felt someone in the back of my mind, when I was being controlled. It was weak, but it was still there," McCoy commented.
Spock raised his head. "I took the logical course of action to find you. We were not sure if you were completely lost, Leonard."
McCoy glanced to the side and swallowed. Deciding to divert from his own display of weakness, he asked, "Did that scare you?"
"I do not feel fear." Despite Spock's polite tone, the quick cadence of his words bore a resemblance to a snap.
McCoy held up a hand. "Fine, we'll let that go." Dropping his hand, he said, "Landru's control was too heavy. It wasn't just that I couldn't regain myself, but I didn't want to."
"Is there a reason?" Spock asked.
"I don't want to go any further into it," he replied defensively.
Spock acquiesced, and McCoy's expression slowly softened. "Leonard, I have a question," Spock began.
"If you're not going to prod me, then go ahead. Otherwise, I'm not in the mood."
A moment passed, wherein Spock visibly took in a breath. "You and I have spoken of the prospect of sexual intercourse," his head tilted to the side, "If I proposed to engage in such tonight, would you agree?"
McCoy stood for a moment, surprised at the change in subject matter. The next, he closed his eyes, chuckling. Hugging his arms more tightly about himself, he replied, "I would, Mr. Spock."
XXXXXX
McCoy tugged at his clothing and swiped the back of his hand across his brow. It wasn't overwhelmingly comfortable, but the heightened heat in his room was still difficult to get used to. He had calibrated the thermostat as carefully as he could have and placed away anything Spock might find boorish or offensive. He wanted the environment to be as comforting as it could to his lover.
He didn't think any less of Spock for being a virgin, rather that aspect didn't shock him, but he still had his concerns. Perhaps he was growing worrisome in his old age, he thought with a tinge of humor.
When Spock did arrive, McCoy greeted him, his one hand on the desk, and his head tilted to the side. "Mr. Spock, what can I do for you, this evening?" His playacting, however, fell away to surprise upon seeing that Spock was holding a wrapped item in his hand.
"I have brought you a gift, doctor," Spock replied, "therefore, to answer your question, you can take it."
Spock gently turned over the wrapped gift in his hand and revealed the bright white of the lily from the arboretum. McCoy smiled at the proffered gift. "Thanks. Here, I'll find a vase for it." Spock allowed McCoy to take it from him and grasp a cylinder for it. Spock didn't consider giving McCoy a flower from Vulcan, knowing that the temperature to keep it alive would have given him too much discomfort. Still, he did find some peace in watching McCoy gently arrange the lily on his desk, brushing out the leaves and petals of the flower to straighten it.
Backing away from it, McCoy turned back to look at him. "Want a drink?"
"What would that accomplish?" Spock inquired, "That is not the purpose of our meeting tonight."
McCoy looked surprised, and then slowly smiled with a shake of the head. "It's hospitality, Spock. I'm not going to immediately make you climb into bed with me."
"Would conversation suffice?" Spock asked, "I fear that quantum theorem might not be an interesting topic for you, doctor."
Realizing that Spock was teasing him, Leonard replied coyly, "If that's supposed to be a Vulcan version of pillow talk, I'm out."
"You would rather remain willfully ignorant of other cultures?" Spock inquired, moving toward him with his hands clasped behind his back, "I find that disappointing, doctor."
McCoy breathed in the incense that was radiating from Spock's body before replying, "I would rather not expend an effort where it isn't needed." A look passed through Spock's eyes, signifying that the match McCoy had been playing with had sparked into a flame.
Spock moved closer to him, his one hand moving out from behind his back. McCoy stepped backwards, toward his bed in the other room, his arms still folded before him, and that inviting smirk on his face. Spock's long fingers shot out, and seized McCoy's arms. McCoy barely had time to suck in a breath. "You could've just asked," he commented with a slight scowl.
"I have reason to doubt your ability to listen to me, doctor," he replied simply.
McCoy's quip was silenced in the back of his throat as he felt Spock's fingers brushing and pressing over his skin. He slipped one arm out from under Spock's hand, and brought it up to kiss the back of it. He stepped backward, Spock moving after him, only to let go upon McCoy entering the bedchamber.
McCoy sat back upon the bed, bracing his weight on the palms of his hands. "We'll take whatever pace you want."
XXXXXX
Dizzily, McCoy dropped his forehead to the palm of his hand and breathed heavily.
"What?" Spock asked, short of breath and thought.
McCoy collapsed back against the pillow beside him, holding a finger in the air to gesture for him to wait a moment. Sweat and fluids were on the sheets and pillowcase, and Spock was not sure if he had done anything wrong. The doctor was not recognizable to him for a moment as he lay there, completely undone as he looked.
Catching his breath, McCoy explained, "Nothing you did, darling. Just wasn't sure if I was going to hurt you."
"How so?" Spock asked.
McCoy lifted a hand. "You didn't look comfortable."
"I was not used to the sensations. I thought that was obvious," Spock commented.
McCoy drew a hand over his eyes. "That was, yes."
"Are you disappointed?"
"No," he replied, his hand falling at the low note in Spock's voice. "Spock don't be hard on yourself. It's not the first time I've gotten myself off, before." McCoy smiled slyly. "Besides, you looked sexy under me."
Spock glanced away at that and chose to sidestep his lover's praise. "Perhaps, then, our communication could use improvement."
"I'll agree," McCoy replied, taking advantage of Spock's diversion by sliding over to him to nibble on his ear. The Vulcan's breath caught in his throat at the contact, and Leonard felt a hand under the sheet slowly stroking along his stomach. "We've got time for that. For now, though, move over, you," McCoy muttered, nudging at him. Spock complied, rolling slightly. Draping his arm over him, his lover squeezed his shoulder, his fingers tracing lazily over in circles.
"Do you prefer your lovers to typically remain, afterward?" Spock asked.
"Mm-hm," McCoy kissed down the side of Spock's head, ending with a kiss behind his ear. "If you don't want me to, just let me know."
"If I asked if I could leave, would that disappoint you?" Spock asked, his question being more of genuine curiosity.
"It would, but it's your choice," McCoy replied truthfully, "and I'll respect it."
Spock grasped the human's hand and ran his fingers over the lines of his lover's palm in contemplation. "I will stay."
"I'm glad," McCoy ran his free hand over the side of Spock's head in a gentle caress. "Here." Picking up the blanket, he covered the Vulcan's body with it. Settling against him, he thought on how long it had been since another man had shared his bed.
Tonia had been soft, though she tended to roll around at night. At one point, he recalled having to grab her wrist to keep her from falling out of the bunk. Burying her mouth in her hand, she smothered a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, and he had kissed the top of her head affectionately.
Merlin had been rougher, shoving Leonard backward against the surface of the bunk, and climbing onto him. Back on that war-torn world, they'd needed to feel alive. And considering his actions with his patient, McCoy was lucky that Merlin took him back. Clapping a hand over his mouth to keep him from crying out, and waking the others, Merlin kissed along Leonard's bruises.
Spock had closed his eyes and was leaning against him. McCoy sighed as he stared down at him. Lying down beside him, he fondly placed an arm about him. He kissed the back of Spock's neck, and felt a contented warmth emanating to him from the Vulcan. He clung to it and smiled against the side of Spock's neck. If it felt like this, sleeping beside Spock, he would be content to do so again much more often in the future.
XXXXXX
The days following felt strange, as if the night itself was transplanted from a different reality. Each man returned to his duties, with the ship continuing to run. Life went on almost rhythmically, their physical touches not extending further than the chaste.
"I didn't do anything wrong, did I?" McCoy had inquired on more than one occasion.
"I still continue to touch you, do I not?" Spock asked plainly, his hands clasped before himself as he stared over the tiers of the chessboard.
McCoy was carefully watching his moves, trying to dissect that Vulcan's thought process. Raising his gaze to more fully look at him, he replied, "'Course you do."
"Then you have your answer," Spock replied, picking up a black rook to place on the top tier. McCoy glanced over at the remainder of the rec room and missed just the smallest hint of a smile Spock gave. Leonard had kept his promise to him.
Processing data from a large, jellyfish-like organism kept in a tank, McCoy commented, his hand pressed up against the glass as the pink organism floated by, "Why do you call me doctor, when we're not working?"
The hums of the ship provided a quiet ambience, the deserted area allowing the creature to rest. Spock was careful from where he stood near the control panel, keeping the pressure from affecting the creature within the rectangular tank from pressing down too heavily. The creature appeared to gravitate to the warmth of a hand upon the glass, brushing its tentacle against the glass before floating away.
"I would consider the term a pet name, as you humans call it," Spock replied. Internally, he allowed himself a feeling of amusement. He was his doctor, his cute physician. The term "doctor" tended to carry a different connotation whenever Spock said it, at least according to McCoy's annoyed reactions.
Physical excess, and desire, Spock thought quietly to himself. Meaningless.
Yet, the satisfaction derived from it was real. The noises the doctor made and the softness as he held him was real.
Settling down on the meditation mat, he gazed at the fire burning before him. Willing himself slowly into a trance, he left all thoughts of Leonard McCoy behind for the moment.
XXXXXX
It wasn't until after the trip to Eminiar VII that Spock was in McCoy's bed again.
Their lovemaking, then, had a different connotation. While not desperate, it had a sense of urgency behind it. Spock was quicker, and somewhat rougher, his nails digging into McCoy's hands. At last wriggling his fingers out of his lover's grasp, McCoy ran his hands down his flanks.
Lowering his head, he took a heavy breath from where he sat on Spock's lap. Eyes closed, he gave a slight nod, and Spock allowed his emotions to bleed through, if only for a moment. While the Vulcan couldn't feel the deaths of each individual as he or she stepped into that chamber, McCoy could feel his despair at the futility of it all. They would never be brought back.
Spock's thumbs hooked behind McCoy's head, and brought him forward into a tender kiss. Drawing out, McCoy rested his lover's head against his shoulder, and rubbed his hand over his back.
It was nothing worth saying, McCoy thought to himself. Sickbay was lit in a ghostly blue hue, with the beds empty. Wiping his hands off on a rag, he disposed of it down the chute.
Christine was in his office, completing the day's report. She raised her eyes and handed him the PADD. After reading over it, McCoy scratched out his signature. The sound of a chair scraping caused him to raise his eyes, and he saw his nurse leaning backward on her chair, one foot keeping her anchored to the floor. Chapel put a hand to her head, leaning it backward. Her eyes were closed. "All of that death…"
"I know," he said quietly, and felt the frustrated anger boiling within him. He didn't have to ask if she felt it, as well.
Chapel lowered her hands to cover her stomach. "Permission to speak freely?"
"Granted," he replied, placing the report away. With the shift over, there was time to speak.
"If I can, I want to be of more assistance," she explained. McCoy didn't press her, as it wouldn't be appropriate to do so. Korby went without speaking. "I've nothing to occupy my time otherwise. May as well put myself to better use." She glanced up at him, letting the point about Spock go. That ship had already sailed.
McCoy gave her a slight smile. "What do you have in mind, Christine?"
"Permission to join the away teams?" She inquired.
McCoy nodded. "I'll speak to the captain about it."
Chapel smiled and quietly began to contemplate the possibilities of where her life would lead her now.