A/N: This story was originally intended to be a quick reprieve from another WIP and it just exploded into its own little monster. Alas, the time has come for me to put this baby to bed and get back to work on my other story. However, to everyone who wrote to me and commented about directions this world could take, I may some day write a sequel, if people have an interest in reading it. Until then, Peace!
Oh, yeah, and Paramount own Star Trek and all that jazz.
As his human knelt quietly at his feet, Spock continued to peruse his work, letting his hand drift absently over the neck and back of his kafeh as the final eighteen minutes of McCoy's punishment ticked away. Hot, viscous need was leaking through the bond as his fingers traced over the human's skull, skirting the rounded line of his ears and …three minutes…two minutes…one minute…coming to rest upon the meld points.
"You were successful in your endeavors, Kafeh? The vaccinations are complete?"
"Yes, Trensu." Lifting his forehead off Spock's thigh, McCoy starred up at him, his face a familiar blend of stubborn frustration and hope. The Vulcan preened inwardly, stroking a thumb across the human's lips with possessive satisfaction.
"You have desires, Kafeh. Tell me."
The human's instinctive resistance was perfunctory and short. "I want to please you, Trensu. I left you unsatisfied and I want to fix it." Pulling his eyes away, McCoy lowered his head back down to the Vulcan's leg.
The sudden and involuntary tension that coursed through him at the human's words was minute and nearly imperceptible but Spock himself was aware at it and marveled at its root. Each additional offer of subservience and submission affected him profoundly and toyed with his control. It was dangerous to be so influenced but in the face of his human's prickly and hard won compliance, he found that he simply did not care. Sprawling back languidly in his chair, he gently grasped McCoy's face and lifted it to meet his eyes.
"Show yourself to me, Kafeh."
The human did not hesitate but quickly shrugged off his robe and sat back on his heels, resting his hands lightly on his knees. Spock allowed his eyes to run over the rangy form with interest, noting the sweat streaked and fully erect state of his possession. And still McCoy said nothing, eyes fixed on the floor as he awaited his next instruction. To the casual observer, he might appear servile, even broken, but Spock knew him better, knew that Leonard McCoy was both tough and strong, emotional and cantankerous, but above all he was a servant to the good of others and a man of honor. He would kneel and see to his trensu's needs with willing enthusiasm simply because he had given his word.
Spock found this quality to be highly arousing.
At the slight crook of his finger, McCoy crawled forward, sliding in between Spock's sprawled legs. He loosened the intricate clasps on the Vulcan's robe and carefully folded it back, running his hands lightly up and down his master's flanks. Looking up, his gaze met Spock's across the long lines of the Vulcan's body and for the barest second a hint of desire, raw and real, threatened to break through the carefully erected walls of duty and repayment. It was fleeting, but Spock saw it clearly a moment before McCoy broke eye contact to take him fully in his mouth.
Vulcan's and humans were creatures of indulgence, and Spock had inherited a healthy share from both sides. Sinking back lazily, he cradled the back of his kafeh's skull with one hand, rubbing with gentle, encouraging strokes as he thrust up gently into the warm cavern. His human was precise by nature, and he performed the fine Terran art of fellatio with the same methodical perfection as he would a complex surgery; with deliberate and exquisite attention to detail. He pulled back and lapped gently at the sensitive head, scraping lightly with his teeth before dragging his tongue up and down the full length of the shaft. Closing his eyes, Spock allowed himself a moment to luxuriate in the sensations under his doctor's exceptional mouth and hands.
The doctor's ministrations were dedicated and skilled, and Spock felt the temptation to give in to his talented touch. It would be satisfying, of that he had no doubt, but the satisfaction would be physical, singular, and fleeting. His kafeh had pleased him. He deserved a reward, and Spock could not deny that McCoy's determined acts of compliance no longer gave him the ultimate satisfaction they once had. They were pleasurable on occasion, their earlier interlude being a prime example, but as time passed, Spock found that his ultimate enjoyment came through reciprocity, through mutual give and take. He wanted his human to want him.
With a light caress, Spock slid his fingers across a cheek and took hold of his human's chin with an easy but firm grip. McCoy's startled eyes flew up to meet his as he pushed the warm mouth off his body and rubbed a thumb appreciatively over the slightly swollen lips. And he stared, indulgently, letting his fingers run over the human's features, the gently curving cheekbones, proud nose, and perfect lips. The doctor continued to observe him warily and Spock found that this hesitation bothered him, that he suddenly needed the human to feel nothing but security in his arms. And why not? McCoy was his. He had as much right to take pleasure in his slave's comfort as he did in his pain.
Sliding his hand to the back of McCoy's neck, he pulled the human up his body, straddling him across his lap. McCoy came willingly, his expression confused but compliant, but Spock could still sense the residual hesitation through the bond. Wrapping an arm around the small of McCoy's back, he pulled the human close, lips hovering inches apart, and felt a beautiful jolt of hopeful anticipation surge across their link. Yes, this was more to his liking, his human's need infused with genuine want. Staring deeply, probingly into McCoy's eyes, he spoke through the bond.
"You please me."
He watched as McCoy weighed his reply. "I try, Trensu."
"You succeed. And it is my pleasure to pleasure you. What would you have from me?"
The human tensed at the request and Spock could sense his hesitation. Pulling McCoy flush against him, he rubbed gently over the man's back as he asked again, "What, Kafeh? What would you have from me?"
He was unsurprised by the press of lips against his own, tentative at first, then more demanding as he responded in kind. The human's hands found his chest, running up slowly to coil around his neck as he exacted gentle pressure against the Vulcan's mouth. He wanted more, Spock knew, but knew better than to ask. Pulling his head back suddenly, Spock caught the doctor's eyes.
"You wish for more, my Kafeh?
"Yes, Trensu."
"But you will not ask."
"I can't."
"And if I choose to give it to you?"
The human's eyes glowed. "Then I would be grateful."
Spock smiled. "Kiss me, Kafeh. Take what you want from me."
It took the doctor a moment's consideration to decide that the gift he was being offered was legitimate. Leaning in closely, he pressed his body firmly against the Vulcan's and whispered aloud, "Let me please you. I need to please you."
"Then please us together," he replied, cradling the human's head and plying his lips with a warm tongue.
Warm hands were running down the length of his torso as his kafeh met his heated kiss. Looping an arm around the Vulcan's neck, McCoy reached down into the medical bag he had abandoned next to the chair, pulling Spock with him and holding their mouth's flush even as he withdrew something from his satchel and sat back up. Finally pulling his lips away, he distracted the Vulcan with feather light nips along his jaw line as his hands busied themselves out of sight.
A Vulcan was always in control, or perhaps it merely required a human to surprise them. A genuine gasp escaped Spock's mouth as McCoy's hands, slick with the warm, healing salve of the human's own invention, wrapped around the length of his still throbbing shaft and began caressing him with perfect, even strokes. Then, the human's lips were back on his, and he was reaching to encase his own weeping erection, pressing them together in the circle of a surgeon's sure hands, the slick salve heating as they slid easily against each other.
Spock rested his head against the back of his chair as fiery bursts of pure pleasure rippled over and under his skin. The sensations were delicious but altogether too physical for his satisfaction. He had a sudden and intense desire to hold and be held.
Wrapping an arm around his kafeh's back, he pulled the human closer and reached between their bodies, flicking one of McCoy's hands away and replacing it with his own. He linked their fingers together, his own hand becoming slick with salve as the human's free arm slipped back around the base of his neck and clung. Holding tightly to each other, they began to thrust in perfect tandem
His disciplines had been pressed to their limits, and he could feel them beginning to fray. Throwing back his head, Spock allowed the small sounds of his pleasure to intermix with the desperate, panting moans his human was making against his shoulder and throat. A tense knot of pleasure was coiling in his belly as his long delayed climax began to crest, and he reached up to seize the human firmly at the base of his skull. Pulling a rounded ear to his lips, he whispered fiercely, "Come."
The force of his human's orgasm poured over him through the bond, pushing him hard over the edge and into his own release. He bucked and thrust against the other man, riding out each wave of satisfaction as helpless, ecstatic moans tumbled from McCoy's mouth. It was electric and intense, flooding every part of him with pure pleasure, rebounding off his writhing kafeh only to spiral back again. Finally, sated and spent, he collapsed back against the chair, wrapping his arms around the gasping, trembling, satisfied form that sprawled limply against his chest.
Moments past as his human slowly regained his breath. Finally looking up, McCoy pleaded with his eyes and Spock nodded his permission for the human to offer his gratitude in a passionate kiss. It was pleasurable in its own sense, immensely so, and Spock felt no compulsion to end it, but his fastidious kasemano suddenly pulled his lips away, reaching down to grasp a cloth from his satchel and clean them both thoroughly. Finally, sliding back to the floor, he laid his head once again against Spock's thigh.
"Are you pleased, Trensu?"
Spock merely raised a brow.
*
They took dinner in their chamber that night, comfortably dressed and reclining at the intimate table for two the Vulcan kept in his quarters. As they ate, Spock questioned his doctor about his medical rounds, enjoying the way the timber of the man's voice deepened and the subtle accent became more pronounced in his passionate description of his Terran charges. McCoy was a man of deep sentiments and Spock so enjoyed the way the human's careful restraint could crumble beneath his emotional responses.
The doctor's voice had stirred a need in him again, but he maintained his sense of discipline for his responsibilities must come first. His human, too, would want to spend time with his own files, meticulously registering and documenting each of his new patients. McCoy's gifts as a healer were unquestionable, his treatment style a harmonious blend of creative ingenuity and shear logic. He took brilliantly conceived risks that seemed to heal the unhealable and then recorded them in minute detail, dissecting and studying his choices with precision. Spock found this process fascinating and always allotted the doctor free time to work with his files. His clan's Terran slaves were fortunate to be under this man's care. Finishing their meal, they parted towards their respective tasks, working in easy, companionable silence.
Several hours later, Spock finished his final report and forwarded it to his father. Glancing across the room to the desk he had given to his kafeh more than two years ago, he watched the other man, enjoying the sight of the skilled mind at work. His desire for his slave was building but he had no intention of interrupting McCoy until he was finished. He would be satisfied with nothing less than the human's full and willing attention, even if it meant exercising some patience. Satisfied with his course of action, he left his desk and picked up his lute.
McCoy's eyes flew to him at the first note but he shook his lightly, signaling that he should finish his task. Then he lost himself in his music, playing through the songs of his ancestors, becoming oblivious to his surroundings through the soft, soothing trill of his harp. An hour had slipped by when he glanced back towards McCoy' desk and found it empty, the lamp dark and the files neatly stored away. Looking down to his left, he found the human seated at his feet, leaning against the side of his chair and taking in the calming sounds. At the sight of him a spark of self-recrimination ripped through Spock for a Vulcan warrior should never be so unaware of his environment. It was the doctor's presence, he mused, that allowed him that sense of comfort. Trust, it would seem, was not merely one-sided.
Considering this, he set the lute aside and reclined back in his chair, reaching a hand down to run his fingers over his kafeh's cheek and idly thumb his mouth. He felt the warm, light touch of the human's tongue and nearly smiled in spite of himself. It would appear that their minds were leading them in the same direction. Skimming lightly over the meld points, he asked, "Have you finished your work for the evening? I will tolerate no distractions."
The human nodded, rolling onto his knees and leaning into Spock's side. "I've finished, Trensu. Thank you. I promise you'll have all my attention."
Spock nodded. A grateful McCoy was a giving and cooperative McCoy, and nothing less than honest willingness would satisfy him this night. He wanted to be touched, to let loose all the restraints he placed upon his human, to allow the slave the rare opportunity to fully master his own actions. Rising to his feet, he pulled McCoy up in front of him and ran a finger delicately over the smooth skin at the base of the human's throat. It was soft and inviting and he leaned in to taste it, feeling McCoy shudder as the smooth skin was lightly abraded by his rough tongue. Drifting up and over the human's neck with small kisses, he quickly worked open the lacing of the McCoy's tunic and lifting the encroaching garment off and away. Running his hands over the human's hips, he stripped off the lightweight slacks and dropped them to the floor, leaving the man bare to his roving eyes and wandering hands.
Stepping back for a moment, he allowed himself to take in the sight. He had possessed McCoy for three years and yet this body still enthralled him, just as it had the first night he had held the human beneath him and branded him kafeh. He knew the sight, scent, and taste of every inch of the man's skin, knew what to touch, what to stroke, nip, lick, and caress to elicit the desired responses. Sliding behind the human and molding himself against his spine, he let his fingertips roam over the warm skin of his belly and taut planes of his chest to tweak lightly at the sensitive nipples.
McCoy tensed in his arms, catching his hitching breath in his throat, seeking to control any impermissible responses, and Spock felt a pang of dissatisfaction ripple through him. His kafeh had been well trained beneath his own hand but at that moment he took no pride in it. No, he wanted, needed, his human's natural responses. Pulling McCoy tightly against him, he nuzzled at the man's neck, sharing his thoughts in a soothing tone.
"Tonight, Kafeh, I would find it satisfying to know your mind."
The human tensed in his arms, wary indecision coloring his thoughts. Pulling back slightly, he glanced over his shoulder and met the Vulcan's eyes. "Trensu, my mind is always yours. You know this even better than I do."
"You misunderstand. I do not wish to sift through your thoughts." Turning the doctor around by the waist, Spock carefully navigated them towards their bed, his feet nudging McCoy's backward in systematic retreat as he calmed his kafeh's agitated mind with tender nips and kisses along his shoulders. As his human's legs brushed the red sheets, he tumbled them downward, taking the other man's mouth as he rolled them to the middle of the bed and sprawled loosely on his back. He stroked McCoy's hips as the human straddled his waist, staring down in bewilderment. Reaching up, he let his fingers drift over the beautifully sculpted features of the doctor's face as he spoke.
"Kafeh, I place no restrictions on you tonight. I give you full control over your body and your actions. You are free to give and receive pleasure in whatever way you choose."
The human's expression was fathomless, a gambit of conflicting emotion flashing in the too expressive eyes only to bury themselves in control mastered through necessity. Hovering above him, McCoy mouthed a barely whispered, "thank you," but the human's tumultuous emotional condition didn't appear to contain any genuine gratitude. Rather, Spock tasted the faintest trace of resentment from the doctor and he marveled at the unexpected sensation even as McCoy skimmed his hands over the planes of his chest and leaned in to nibble down the length of his throat.
Without warning, the doctor pulled back, staring down at him with an unreadable expression on his face. He said nothing, revealed nothing across their bond, but the expression on his face seemed vaguely considering. Pushing up onto his elbows, Spock glared back, raising one brow in mock challenge.
The doctor's reaction was immediate, breaking eye contact to work his way down the length of Spock's body with tongue and teeth but despite the human's skilled ministrations, Spock found his attention wandering. There had been a jolt across the bond and a faint glint in the human's eye at his inquiry, as if a carefully concealed but festering wound had somehow been probed. Examining the situation carefully, Spock considered a possible explanation. Was his human dissatisfied with this arrangement?
It was difficult to believe. Hadn't the stubborn human fought him with religious devotion? Didn't he tense and bristle beneath Spock's yoke? It was the opportunity to heal that kept McCoy bound. If not for that, Spock knew he would have to employ deep controls through the bond to keep the human in check because his fierce doctor would never bow willingly. At least, he had thought that, but as McCoy worked over his body, he noticed that the doctor's efforts seemed rote and half-hearted. He found this reaction confusing but fought back the rising temptation to delve into the human's mind, to seek out the reasons behind his slave's perplexing behavior. He had made a promise, and he would not risk damaging the doctor's hard-won trust merely to satisfy his own frustrated curiosity. For all his best intentions, though, there was only so much he could block as naked flesh and raw emotion rubbed and writhed over him. Picking through the remnants, Spock was jolted by what he found. McCoy was angry. Why would freedom leave his human suffering under the perception of betrayal?
Rearing back, Spock flipped them, tumbling them body to hot body to pin his human beneath him on the bed. Seizing McCoy's wrists, he stretched them out helplessly above the human's head and pressed them securely to the sheet with one arm. Using his hips to splay the human's thighs wide around him, he thrust deeply into the ready body, seating himself to the hilt. Beneath him, McCoy gasped and arched into the intrusion, writhing and pulling desperately against the hands that bound him to the bed. He bucked and fought but the Vulcan held him easily, plying his body with shallow thrusts, an undeniable reminder of who was now in control. Beneath him, McCoy's meager strength began to flag, and he relaxed back onto the sheets, arms limp from exertion. Using his free hand, Spock grasped the human's chin and pulled his head back, baring the column of his throat to his teeth and tongue. Worrying mercilessly at the tender skin, Spock growled, "You feel anger, Kafeh. I am failing to please you as you have pleased me. You do not want what I have offered you tonight." Pulling his head back, he gazed piercingly into the human's tense face. "Give me your thoughts, Kafeh, because you will it, not because I take them. Tell me what it is, this need of yours that you will not share."
Beneath his hands, the human squirmed futilely. Rebellion and dissension were written into the very fabric of his being but underneath each revolt Spock detected a profound sense of relief. His kafeh might fight him, but Spock had long known that at his core McCoy found comfort and solace in his dominance. He had used this information for his own purposes, teased the doctor with it when is suited him, but he had never once asked why. Suddenly, he needed to know, needed to understand this loathed but paramount desire that afflicted his human. Cradling McCoy's cheek, he forced the human to meet his eyes.
"Kafeh, will you continue to fight me? I told you once that I desired your compliance but that if you denied me I would simply take what is mine. And you remain mine. Is that what has prompted this emotional response. Do you seek to test my commitment?
An indignant spark ignited in the hazel eyes and Spock pounced upon it. "Ah, no, Kafeh, I can see that is not what troubles you. What, then? What is the source of your need to feel my power?
Beneath him, McCoy shut his eyes and attempted to pull away but Spock held him fast, thrusting sharply into the human's and drawing a harsh gasp. Meeting his gaze with fury burning across his face, McCoy spit out across the bond, "You've made me an open book. Why are you even asking me? If you want answers, you can just go in my head and pull them out!"
Spock traced a finger idly down the bridge of the human's nose. "This is true, Kafeh, but I tell you now that I will not do this. I believe that you wish me to know but do not desire to tell me. But you and I have circled around this fact since I first claimed you.
It is not just the knowledge that I want. I still desire your compliance. I desire the trust you have bestowed upon me. I desire the vulnerability necessary to speak difficult truths to me. So, no, my Kafeh, I will not take what I want. I will wait for you to give it willingly."
Adjusting his hold on McCoy's wrists, Spock settled the long lines of his body against that of the human's but made no effort to move within him. Their eyes met and held, unyielding black orbs locking on unwavering hazel in a stalemate. Letting his free hand continue to trace the human's facial features, Spock settled into the stare-off and waited as McCoy's stalwart resistance began to crumble under his tender touch.
"Suppose I don't tell you? What will you do? The look in the human's eyes was almost accusatory. "Will you punish me? Are you going to stop me from treating patients?"
A spark of real anger flared in the Vulcan's chest but he stifled it instantly. They were, he realized, fair questions. "Kafeh, I will not compel or coerce you. In this instance, if you choose to deny me, I will accept that. There will be no consequences to your decision."
His tone was even and carried a soothing timber but the words themselves were the match to the long buried powder keg of his doctor's emotions. Under a sudden surge of adrenaline, McCoy yanked one of his hands free and battered at the Vulcan's shoulder and back. Spock watched the flailing arm, noting the ease with which he could capture it and pin it back down. It was instinctual, the need to seize and pin, but he stopped himself and pulled back instead, out and away from the struggling body beneath him. Resting back on his heels, he watched as McCoy scrambled back and away to press into the wall on the far side of their bed. Meeting the human's eyes, Spock anticipated confusion and panic but his prickly kafeh managed to surprise him once again. The human met his gaze in a full on, audible rage.
"Don't. Don't do that. I said I trusted you because you never lied to me but dammit, you're lying to me now. Don't you dare pretend you're doing this for me. You've spent three damn years pulling me apart and you know me. And maybe you haven't let me run roughshod through your mind but let me tell you, I know you, too.
Here's what I know. Everything you do is for you. You sit here and tell me you won't go riffling through my head and pretend you're doing me a favor? Bullshit! You know me and you know how much I hate to have to admit things to your face. But that doesn't stop you from making me do it. So let's not play games here. Every time I break down and admit something to you, that's just another little piece of me you get to own. That's what this is about, not trust or coercion, just you getting to own another little piece of me!"
The human's face was flushed, his body tense and furious, but Spock was certain he'd never looked more enticing. His eyes had a wild, primitive glow to them and his fists were curled tightly, the muscles in his arms shaking with effort as he clutched the smooth material of the sheet. The plush lips Spock enjoyed so much were curling back from his teeth in an animalistic snarl. There wasn't a trace of fear anywhere on the human, only the fury that rolled off of him in waves and lapped at Spock's knees.
Cocking his head slightly, Spock eyed McCoy, turning the angry words over in his head as he assessed his prey from across the bed. Slowly, the human's fingers began to uncurl as the reality of his tirade finally began to fracture. The rough aggression ebbed away as he considered the possible ramifications of his outburst. Curling in on himself defensively, McCoy stared down at the sheet, twisted from his grasp.
Now Spock could sense fear from the doctor, not for himself, of course, but for the patient's under his care. A sharp sliver of annoyance shot through the Vulcan, but he realized the human's concern was to be expected. He'd promised that McCoy would suffer no repercussions for choosing not to answer him but nothing had been said about explosive verbal attacks. McCoy's resistance was usually so subtle. In fact, he had not graced Spock with his acid tongue since the bond had been implemented. It was inappropriate for a bonded kafeh to address his trensu with anything other than respect, but Spock could not deny the spark McCoy's rancor raised within him. This was what he wanted, the indomitable spirit that had first attracted him to the human. The fierce determination that had made McCoy fight him every step of the way.
Humans and their emotions! How was he to rectify this with McCoy's distress? The human wanted to fight, reveled in the fight, but under no circumstances did he want to win. He wanted push and to rebel but only as long as Spock eventually pinned him down and reasserted his control. Also, though he was quite aware of his strange need, McCoy desperately did not want to admit it aloud. If he, Spock, were to pull the knowledge from his head, that would be acceptable, but to be forced to admit it the Vulcan's face would be devastating to his human.
Spock considered these revelations as he stared at the man across the bed. McCoy had not always needed this. Spock had not evidence to support his theory but deep seated instinct told him it was true. Something had happened to his kafeh that made him crave a domineering hand and Spock needed to know what it was. He found himself faced with discomfiting indecision. Should he enter the human's mind and take the knowledge he craved. McCoy would prefer this, since it would require no admittance or responsibility on his part. Yet, even as his fingers twitched against his leg, desiring to meld, he found himself deciding no. What would bring temporary relief would ultimately lead to the destruction of everything he and the human had built between them. No, he would woo the information from his doctor, woo it with his own vulnerable declarations.
Casting a deceptively cold look at McCoy, he leaned forward on his hands and knees and stalked across the sheet.
"You are correct, Kafeh. Under Vulcan custom, you are mine in mind and body. I am fully within my rights to probe your every thought if I so choose. I do not have to ask, I am free to simply take but as you have noticed, I often choose not to. Instead I seek out ways to make you admit your secrets to me. I do this deliberately and I enjoy it."
The human's face twisted in miserable but helpless acceptance, squeezing his eyes shut, and Spock seized the opportunity. Lunging forward, he hooked an arm around McCoy's waist and hauled him across the bed. The human slammed into him, losing his breath from the impact as Spock reached up and threaded a hand through the short, brown hair. He fisted the chestnut locks, using the handhold to bend McCoy to his lips. Then he captured the human's mouth, plundering his lips, given a harsh yank to the brown hair when the human resisted. Beneath his greedy, seeking tongue, Spock felt capitulation as McCoy relaxed beneath him and began to respond. He immediately gentled his assault, plying the human's tongue lightly and playfully as he released the fierce grip on McCoy's hair and began to slowly massage the tense cords of his neck.
The fight was leaving McCoy, their kiss becoming heated as the doctor capitulated and began to respond with enthusiasm, but Spock realized that simple surrender would not satisfy him, not tonight or any night after. The plan that had been slowly taking shape in the back of his mind suddenly crystallized into perfect clarity, morphing instantly from mere fancy to absolute necessity. It was ill-conceived and dangerous, and could easily result in his own death, but Spock found he simply did not care for even one hour of true companionship with this incredible creature would be well worth the sacrifice. First, however, he must secure his human's willing compliance for there was no forcing a bond such as this.
Loosening his hold on McCoy's waist, Spock pulled back slightly, breaking their kiss and meeting the human's wary eyes. Stroking a hand lightly across his cheek, Spock pushed gently, into McCoy's mind.
"Leonard?"
At the sound of his given name, real terror darkened the human's face but Spock pressed a finger to the cool lips and continued. "Do not be alarmed." His hand returned to McCoy's neck and he felt the human's tension begin to abate beneath his touch. "Leonard, I confess I do crave your secrets. I do enjoy your stubborn refusal and the sense of gratification I feel when you finally make an admission to me. But if you assume that I take some sort of malicious satisfaction in your pain, then you are wrong.
I take pleasure in your confessions because they allow me to fuel what I believe you would call a fantasy. It allows me to ignore the traditional confines of our relationship and imagine us as equal partners. Recently, I have pushed you more and more for this omissions and I realize now that my motivation is my own willingness to allow the fantasy to stay in my mind. I wish it to become the reality of our lives."
Drawing back, he contemplated the human's face. Leonard appeared shocked, he eyes wide and his lips pursed in amazement. Resting his hands on the Vulcan's shoulders, he spoke in a panicked but carefully measured voice.
"What are you saying? Even talking about something like this could get you killed."
Spock nearly smiled at his human's concern. "I have considered the risk and I deem it acceptable."
"Well, I don't." bellowed the human from inside his head. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a doctor. My job is to preserve life and that includes yours. Are you out of your Vulcan mind? What could you possibly hope to gain from this? Of all the illogical, ridiculous…"
McCoy's mental tirade cut off abruptly as Spock raised a hand and tenderly stroked his face. "This, Leonard, is what I hope to gain from it. You're honesty and temperament. I want you unafraid to speak your mind. I have observed you carefully these past three years and I realize that you require transparency and honesty above all things. It is true that I have not lied to your face but I have lied through omission many times.
I admit that there are risks to the bond. My kinsmen would most likely kill me if they discovered it. However, the likelihood of that is minimal. I am, after all, not in the habit of engaging in mind melds with random strangers and my shields are of sufficient strength that accidental physical contact would reveal little more than the expected bond between kafeh and trensu."
"But you do meld with your father!"
"You are correct and he would be well within his rights to demand my life and your service if he discovered it. However, my father is not in the habit of scouring through my mind, even during a meld. I also believe that, were he to discover the bond, his reaction might be surprisingly supportive."
In his arms, McCoy began to sag as his passionate resistance slowly gave out. "Why do this? If you want me to stop fighting you then fine, I'll stop. That's no reason to take this kind of risk."
"Perhaps, Doctor, if that was all I desired. However, what I want is your complete trust, given, not taken. The nature of this bond will allow you to have what I have, a full understanding of my mind. I will also give you the training required to re-establish your shields so that you may keep some of your thoughts for yourself. There would be equality between us, a relationship built on our mutual desires. That, Leonard, is what I want."
McCoy glared at him, his expression mulish. "Let me make sure I understand here. Three years ago, you kidnapped me and forced me into a slave bond. Since then, you have used me in every way a person can be used. And now, with almost no warning, you tell me that what you really want is an equal relationship. What if I say no?"
The expression on the Vulcan's face remained tender, "Then I would be forced to accept your decision."
"Bullshit…you've never accepted anything from me. You could just take away my right to treat the others until I agreed."
"Yes, I could do that, but it would be rather counterproductive. One forced bond is no different than another. Leonard, the only way for me to have what I desire is if you will willingly grant it. Your responsibilities among the clan's slaves are immaterial here." Reaching up to cup McCoy's cheek, he drew their faces close, pressing their foreheads together so he could stare into the human's eyes. "You would gain much from this; control, respect, a full understanding of my feelings for you. I would gain much as well, most notably a sense of real companionship and the freedom to express my true feelings. As for my safety, it will be necessary for us to maintain a public façade of master and slave, but here, in private, we would be equals."
Closing his eyes, Spock ran his lips over the human's jaw and neck, breathing in his scent. "I desire this, Leonard. I believe that I have desired it for a long time, perhaps years. But I will force nothing on you. I will not even take your thoughts, Doctor. I will only ask you, humbly and honestly, to be my mate. Please tell me what you think."
"I think you're out of your damn mind."
The Vulcan smiled. "That is entirely possible. My own kind would agree with you, no doubt. However, you must not forget that I too am human. I too am emotional and foolish at times. Now please, tell me, what is your answer?"
"We'll be careful, right?"
"Of course.
"You say this so lightly."
"No, I assure you that I speak with deep conviction, the kind that can only be had when one is certain of their path."
Pulling away slightly, McCoy shut his eyes, biting his lip in concentration. Slight tremors in his cheeks were the only indication of the war of conflicting emotions that raged within him, but Spock made no move to push or inquire, patiently waiting as the human weighed the heavy decision that had been thrust upon him.
Spock looked up when McCoy exhaled deeply and opened his eyes. Looking up to meet Spock face to face, the doctor nodded his head slowly. "Alright. I'll give you what you want."
The Vulcan left no time for reconsideration as he pulled the human close and bore him back down on the bed and took his mouth. He half expected some instinctual resistance, but McCoy met his kiss with eager enthusiasm.
He tensed a bit as Spock took his hands and pinned them above his head. "Will I feel anything?"
Spock smirked against his lips. "You will feel everything. And you will enjoy it immensely."
Grasping the human's wrist in one hand, Spock ran his fingers lightly over McCoy's throat and chest, enjoying the subtle hitch in the other man's breath. Skirting up an over McCoy's jaw, he was reaching for the meld points when suddenly his human spoke.
"It's because I've been in control before. I didn't do a good job. People died. I don't ever want that to happen again."
Staring down, Spock cocked his head. With a slight shrug, McCoy continued. "You wanted to know, didn't you? You wanted to know why I needed you to be in control all the time. I want to tell you now, so that you definitely hear it from me and not because you picked up through my thoughts." At Spock's understanding nod, McCoy went on, "You see, I used to be in control of everything. I took care of my family and ran an entire hospital. So many people were my responsibility. They were under my care and looked up to me and I failed them. Illness took my father even though I promised to save him. Violence and war took my family and patients even though I swore to keep them safe. I've been in control before, enough to know that I don't want to be in control again."
"Your wife and the little girl…Joanna? They are dead?"
"Years ago."
Leaning over the prone form beneath him, Spock sought McCoy's ear as fingers probed and prepared the man's body. "I could tell you, of course, that these things are not your fault, but I am certain you have heard those words before and they have brought little comfort. Instead, I will simply assure you that you will still be mine. I will simply be yours as well. And neither of us need fear, for we will protect and comfort each other." Skimming his hand back up the human's face, he found the meld points and pushed.
He lost all connection to his physical self as his mind raced along the threads of their existing bond, tracing it back to the anchors he had set in McCoy's consciousness three years prior. The bond trembled beneath his mental touch, perhaps sensing its demise as he seized it and ripped it roughly, threading newer, stronger, brighter strands to bind their minds together mutually. This new pathway was smooth, unresisting, and he could feel McCoy's hesitant exploration deep within his thoughts. Reaching for his wandering mate, he called out, "Leonard?"
"Trensu?" came a directionless reply.
"You will not call me that anymore, not here. I am no longer your master."
"What do I call you then?"
Within his mind, the Vulcan smiled. "You will call me by my given name. You will call me Spock."
Spock. The name dragged him out of his mind, back to the present, to the physical, to a body as locked in the instinctual needs of the bond as his mind. Incredible bursts of pleasure ripped through him and he opened his eyes to find himself sprawled over the thrashing, moaning form of his newly taken mate. His body was simply beyond his control, driving into the human beneath him with animalistic intensity. His body was its own entity, his mind had no recourse, but whatever fears he may have had about his mate's well-being died out as Leonard wrapped his arms and legs around Spock's heaving form, meeting him thrust for thrust. The human's head thrashed from side to side and deep, mindless moans poured from his throat. Spock devoured those sounds, given freely in ecstasy, not moderated by the confines or demands of a slave bond.
His human was beautiful in his wantonness, inhibitions scattered as he gave himself over to their coupling. His own body felt surreal to him, unfettered, but he found the loss of control most satisfying as mindless pleasure wafted over him. Everything was electrified, magnified on a never ending loop as his pleasure blended with that of his mate's, racing in both directions up and down the bond.
Wrapping his arms around the human's back, he pulled Leonard up to straddle him across his knees, pressing their bodies flush as he continued to pound into his willing mate. His exceptional strength was put to use, lifting the human and driving him back along his shaft, again and again as Leonard moaned and arched over his arm.
A coil of delicious sensation was rippling across the bond and forming in his belly and Spock knew that his human was close. Their link was acting on its own agenda, pushing them towards powerful and mutual gratification and Spock began to thrust harder as Leonard wrapped his arms around Spock's shoulder s and clung, sending jolts of decadent friction to every inch of their sensitized skin. Leaning in, Leonard pressed his forehead against his mate's, their thick, panting breath intermingling as their eyes met and held. Every nerve in their bodies was singing for release, compounding and multiplying on top of each other as each sensation felt by one was magnified by the other. They were hovering on the precipice when Leonard suddenly threw his arm around the Vulcan's neck and pressed their lips together.
The reaction was instantaneous, an explosion that began in his cock and ripped through every synapse in his body. His mind stuttered and went momentarily dead as he tore his lips away from the human to let loose a primal roar of satisfaction. Leonard threw back his head, his mouth thrown open in a voiceless cry, his eyes wide and shocked by the force of the climax pouring over him.
It could have gone on for hours but slowly, conscious thought began to return to the Vulcan. His body, so strong and agile under normal circumstances, was loose-limbed and trembling, and he could barely support the half-conscious human that dangled weakly over his arm. Using his last reserves of strength, he guided them down to the bed, letting Leonard sprawl across the sheets as he sank down atop him and burrowed his head into the human's chest. Their hearts were racing and they gasped for breath in perfect tandem.
Leonard was fading, he could sense it across the bond. Sleep was a necessity for the exhausted human and Spock would let him take all he needed, but first he had to see him, had to look into the eyes of the human who had somehow seized his heart.
His skin was on fire, nearly too sensitive to touch, and he finally drew back, pushing himself up on his arms to lean over the gasping, panting, sated form of his human as he fought to catch his own breath. Beneath him, McCoy forced his eyes open and on him even as complete exhaustion threatened to claim him. The look in the human's eyes was deep and mysterious and Spock ached to plumb their depths, but such an action would be foolish in his depleted condition. Instead, as McCoy's trembling arm reached out and elegant fingers threaded through the ebony tendrils of his hair, he found the breath to ask, "What is this look you have? What do you see?"
The human's eyes were fighting to close but a small, impish smile spread across your lips. His voice was husky and heavy with sleep as he murmured, "You. It's just…you're…beautiful." His voice died away on the last word as fatigue finally pulled him into a deep slumber.
Staring down at his unconscious mate, the irascible features softened in sleep, Spock contemplated his new fate. It was worth it, so very worth it, but the challenges they would face would be harsh and numerous. Someday, he knew, he would be called on to take a wife, to bond with a Vulcan female in order to produce an heir. Such a day was many years off but it would come, and then they would most likely have to flee, leaving everything Spock knew behind. Then they would truly be equals, two homeless strangers adrift with nothing but each other to tether them. And yet, even in the face of such hardships, the sacrifice still seemed worth the prize.
Exhaustion was threatening to claim him but he took a moment to skim his hand along the peaceful face of his kafeh. No, no, never again would this man be slave. Not kafeh but ashayam, lover. At least here, in this room, if not the universe over.
What would it be like, he wondered as he sank bonelessly to the bed and pulled the loose-limbed human into his arms, to live in a world of peace between their people? If they had been born allies instead of foes, what could they have become, what could they have accomplished together? Hypothetical musings served no valuable purpose, but still he could not help but wonder what might have been.
But now weariness was dragging him down and he needed to seek necessary rejuvenation. Turning carefully on his side, he nestled Leonard's sleeping form against him, gently pushing back a lock of hair and pressing a tender kiss. A sense of peace permeated the bond and washed over him, sending him into a sated and contented sleep.
Worth, indeed.
-Fin