A/Ns: This fic basically is inspired by a Spones headcanon between Bluespock and Sleepymccoy on tumblr, located sleepymccoy tumblr post/148140294304/when-spock-and-bones-get-intimate-bones-suggests. In later chapters, you will see more references to this post (especially in dialogue), so I don't take credit for it, but not as many in this part.

This chapter is very tame (hence the T rating) but can and probably will change in the future. The next part is being written but isn't finished.

Also, there's no references to the TOS novel of the same name, though I hear it's a very good book. Go read it! I just thought the title was convenient.

This is my first 5+1 fic.

Doctor's Orders

"Normally, I'm not one to play doctor. But," McCoy says, leaning over to place his hand on Spock's knee, "You drive me to do things I normally don't do."

Spock can feel the heat and the press of his hand through his pants but returns McCoy's stare instead. His eyes glimmer with intensity and his mouth is barely upturned but Spock can't help being fascinated.

They only share a moment but that moment is long enough for Bones to change his demeanor entirely and the man moves, towers over his body, as he uses his hand on Spock's knee for leverage over him, to wrap his free arm around his neck, and kiss him.

With his bare hand over the nape of his neck, he can feel everything that is McCoy: the movement of his mouth, the press of his lips against his own, of his tongue sliding against the seam that divides them both, of his unique smell, his thoughts and emotions, his entire presence, his whole being is surrounding him. Part of it is due to his physical proximity, of spatial memory, but the other half is from hearing his thoughts, of the indulgent emotions McCoy has in taking pleasure of being with Spock, touching him, feeling his pulse.

Feeling his pulse?

Spock blinks and raises his eyebrow when McCoy removes his mouth from his, teases his vein with his fingertips.

"Ah, I see you're having some palpitations there," McCoy begins, his eyes scanning up and down his face in that doctorly manner of his.

Spock blinks again and is able to rid himself of the distracting sensation of those fingers on his neck, understands that McCoy isn't done.

"Just to make sure," McCoy trails off, his eyes roaming farther down his body, "I should do a proper heart examination."

The thought sends Spock's heart racing faster in his side, the mischief in McCoy's eyes and thoughts fueling the mental pictures Spock is conjuring. McCoy moves as fast as his mental double, removing his hands from his leg and his neck, creeping to their joint destination: the hem of Spock's shirt. McCoy's left hand goes down his shoulder, passes over the top of Spock's hand ever so lightly, before crossing over towards his torso. His right hand inches up Spock's thigh, over the crease where his leg joins his groin, and onto his stomach. He pauses and hears Spock's careful breath.

McCoy just grips the bottom, listens to Spock breathe, the slow inhale and exhale. Spock's chest is rising and falling and nothing is happening. Spock looks down before he tries to comment and meets McCoy's eyes.

It seems that is the cue McCoy is waiting for and smiles, pushes the blue cloth up Spock's stomach, messes with the hair on his belly. Once enough skin is revealed, McCoy gets down to his knees, eye level to his stomach, his face close, watching, his breath skimming his skin.

At first, Spock is genuinely confused for a nanosecond before one of McCoy's hands trails down from his shirt, up close to his heart.

McCoy is watching for his heart beat.

McCoy's face looks impassive, a perfect mask of professionalism, but Spock knows from his mind the plan, his goal, and the mental image is distracting Spock from controlling his physical responses. Spock tries to audibly recite Surak's teachings inside his mind but McCoy's thought is a fully realized picture: the man wants to trace his heart with the pads of his fingers, wants to count the beats to see if Spock's reacting any differently than in any of his physicals, wants to lick the skin over the center of it, to kiss it to see if there's any truth to it all.

Spock doesn't realize his eyes are closed, that McCoy's plan is unfolding in front of him in synchronous time. Spock's eyes open when McCoy releases himself, his hands still over his heart.

"Well," McCoy's smile is in that confident way he gets when he's sure of the diagnosis, "You definitely are having some palpitations."

Spock is sure of the next move; all the variables lead him to one conclusion. He anticipates the doctor may find a way to turn such a game, such innocuous innuendo into more.

Yet, all McCoy does is to gently pull the bottom of his shirt down and straighten it out, slowly rises from his perch on the floor. He dusts his clothes off and nonchalantly shrugs.

"Doctor's orders: get some rest."

Spock's eyebrow is high on his head. Now more than ever does he wish he was still in physical contact with McCoy; the answer is in his mind. The man starts to walk away and Spock's curiosity is alight, overrides any control he has into thinking through his next action and instead acts on impulse, by reaction.

He grabs McCoy's wrist and tugs him forward, the man falling over his lap. McCoy braces his hands on the back of the sofa near Spock's shoulders and looks down on him.

"I do believe you know what's wrong with me, doctor," Spock states.

Now, there's a devilish smirk on McCoy's face, his eyes sparkling more puckishly than before, glad that Spock has caught on.

"I believe I do, Mr. Spock."

McCoy captures Spock's lips again and shows him what the doctor's orders are.

A/N: For those who are waiting for updates on my other story, it's slowly being updated, and I also have a post-Beyond fic in the works, so stay tuned for that. In a couple of days, I hope to have the next part of this out. It's probably going to have some explicit smut, so if that's not your thing, you can just read this and opt out reading the next four parts, since the last part will not have sex in it.