Title: The Runes (Chapter 11)
Author: T'Prillah
Codes: TOS, S/Mc, rated M for explicit m/m sex
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I kissed him, gently, then lubed up. I was achingly hard. I centered myself at his anus, grabbed onto his hips and tried to push in, but he was tense. I couldn't even get the head in. "Spock…relax for me… let it happen…" He did let it happen. Let me all the way in, in one stroke. His snug, super warmth around my cock felt wonderful. It was hotter than I was used to, almost too hot for comfort. I was nervous for a short moment that I wouldn't be able to handle it, but I slowly got used to him. During my initial explorations inside him, my finger had discovered his prostate. I shifted angle to hit it. Very gently at first I thrust into him, I didn't want to hurt him, then I went a little faster. He arched his back, gasped, then moaned softly, then louder and louder. My moans matched his. The only sound in the cabin were the ones made by us--
"Prepare to leave orbit around Celus IV, Mr. Sulu." Captain Kirk's voice rang out, breaking though my delightful daydream. "Plot course to Gamma Trianguli VI."
We were off to our next assignment. "Should be nice…heard it's a paradise," I muttered, not a little wistfully. I still missed my shore leave on Barengaria.
"Course plotted and laid in, sir," Sulu called out.
"At our rate of speed, estimated arrival, two standard weeks," Spock announced.
"Doctor McCoy." Jim directed his attention over to where I was leaning very nonchalantly against the red railing in front of the science/library station. "Have you managed to finish your report of the Celus IV plant survey?" he enquired of me, coldly.
I had, of course, noticed that since our little confrontation in the lift the other day, he'd avoided calling me `Bones', or `Doc' or anything other than a curt `Doctor McCoy'.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean, Jim?" I hissed underneath my breath. "Of course I've managed to finish it." I flashed him an equally frosty glare. "I wouldn't be up here, wasting time, if I hadn't."
"Then how about heading down to the sickbay and fetching it for me?"
"Certainly, sir," I snapped back. "I'll have that sent up to you in five minutes. Captain."
I spun around to Spock. At that very same instant, he turned from the library station. We gazed at each other for a long moment. I felt Jim's eyes in my back, waiting.
I turned back to Jim, my face wrinkled into a scowl for an instant. I gathered up what remaining dignity I had, and exited the bridge.
I headed down to my office….to finish that report.
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I handed Spock the Rune.
Closing his fist over it, he suddenly got what appeared to be a mischievous glint in his eye. "Tonight, I shall surprise you my thy'la."
I groaned. "Surprise me? Forget it. I don't like surprises."
"You used to," he remarked.
"Well I don't anymore. Just tell me what it says to do and let's do it. I'm not in the mood for games," I snapped.
I'd found I was doing a lot of that lately: snapping at him. And at Geoff M'Benga, at Jim Kirk—though he was equally touchy with me, and at Nurse Chapel, and at whoever got in my way. I felt increasingly on edge.
I rubbed my eyes. God they were killing me.
Spock studied me intently then pulled me into his grasp. I struggled to get away, but of course, I couldn't. Lightly at first, then passionately, he planted kisses on my resisting mouth, till I pulled away. "Just tell me what it says," I insisted.
"You shall enjoy it more if I do not disclose what it is."
"Dammit! Stop teasing me!" I yelled. He sighed and gave me almost a dejected look. I flopped down on his bunk, fully clothed. "Fine. Whatever. I don't care anymore. I'm just along for the ride, it seems."
He sat down next to me. "Self pity. How very unattractive. I believe--"
"I don't give a shit what you believe anymore," I sulked. "Just hurry up so we can be done for the night so I can go to sleep and you can go on duty."
"You are angry that I must stand third watch tonight," he observed.
"Yeah," I admitted with a wry smile. Spock hadn't stood a third watch, affectionately known as the `graveyard shift' since we'd started with the Runes. It was bizarre. Why was I so worried about it? I was a big boy, I should be able to sleep without him next to me. I didn't want to.
As I lay there continuing to sulk, Spock made short work of pulling off my uniform, then stood up to remove his own. I didn't bother to watch him strip like I normally did.
"You intend to be passive, T'hy'la," he purred. "Then that is exactly what you shall be, tonight."
I dozed off in the warmth of Spock's cabin. "Yeah fine…whatever…" I felt his weight as he straddled me. "Ease off a little," I murmured.
Maybe I should put him on a damn diet card, like I did this week to the captain. Come to think of it, perhaps that's another reason why Jim's being so pissy with me. I mean, the stress of finding out his beloved Spock is now screwing his Chief Medical Officer compounded by the fact that he has to eat salads for a month, must be absolutely galling to him. Well, besides the fact that I've been day dreaming my life away instead of performing my duties.
Maybe Jim'll end up having me transferred off ship. Maybe that wouldn't be too bad an idea.
Maybe I should put in for a transfer after this Rune business is all over and done with. Maybe Jim--
My mournful reverie was interrupted by the sensation of a hot mouth on the head of my cock. I opened my eyes to see Spock crouched over me.
"Hello, Leonard." He looked up with a devilish glint in his eyes.
"Is that what the surprise is? A blowjob? Big deal." I closed my eyes again and pretended not to enjoy it. However my hardening penis was giving me away.
His tongue slid around my head, reached the nerve endings in the back and I squirmed a little. His tongue, expertly, (yeah, expertly) rubbed those nerve endings in the back of my cock. I was now achingly hard. I moaned and with the tip of his finger he circled the pre-cum around the head. His mouth sunk down, swallowing me up to the hilt. That felt so good that I nearly popped off right there, but sensing this, he pulled up and off. He waited for me to come back from the edge then swallowed me again.
Then he pulled up and suddenly ordered: "Leonard, lie on your stomach."
"No…don't…" I protested, for about two seconds. I finally gave in and rolled over.
He pulled me up to all fours; I grimaced and waited. It wasn't that I was totally adverse to him being inside me, I just didn't like it as much as I did being inside him. But if he wanted it that way, tonight, then he wanted it. I tried to relax as I waited for him to get lubed up.
Except, he didn't do what I'd expected him to. He caressed my ass then crouched under me to put the head of my cock into his mouth. Ohhh... that was good. That was damn good. I arched my back and moaned. He pulled his mouth away, continued stroking me with a hand then took up kissing and running his teeth down my ass. I drew my ass up into that sensation as I thrust down into his hand.
His tongue slid down into the space between my cheeks. Further and further down. And, I'll be damned if that Vulcan didn't start rimming me; gently pulling my cheeks apart and circling his tongue round and round my anus. This was a completely unique sensation that I'd never experienced before in my life. It was wonderful.
"Ohhhh yes," I moaned. "Yes, Spock." He slid a tongue in. "Ohhhhh, yes…" I encouraged him as he slid his tongue in deeper and deeper, as far as it would go. The sounds of my little cries filled the cabin.
More unintelligible sounds came out of my mouth as he continued sliding his tongue in and out of me. It brought me crashing up to the edge. "Spock," I gasped. "I can't hold off… " He hummed in response and the heat of his breath on my perineum, paired with low voice and his hot tongue inside pushed me to come hard, squirting all over the bed sheet. I collapsed down, avoiding the wet spot, panting heavily.
He spooned up next to me and held me for many blissful minutes as I recovered. That had felt so good; I couldn't believe it.
I finally looked over at him and smiled.
He nodded. The corners of his mouth turned up as he gave me one of those famous `smiling without actually smiling' expressions.
"Is that what the Rune ordered?" I finally managed.
"It is a blank Rune," he replied.
I yawned. "What does that mean?"
"It means that one of us can pick the night's activity."
"I think you're full of shit, Spock…you're making this up as we go along." However at this point, it didn't really matter. He lay down next to me, caressing my body.
There was a look in his eyes that unnerved me.
He shifted to lie on top of me. He arranged my legs over his shoulders and without a word, lubed up. He centered his cock against my now unresisting body and slid himself in.
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The chrono read: 22:45. I reclined on Spock's bunk and watched him anxiously as he moved elegantly across his quarters, showering, then calmly put on a clean uniform. He stood at the mirror calmly combing his sleek black hair. From the looks of him you would have never thought even a strand had ever been out of place.
However, the more I thought about things the more I felt queasy. Tonight something had felt very, very wrong. I felt the whole situation spinning out of my control.
I hadn't really wanted him on top, tonight. Sure, he had been gentle enough with me. But I had noticed that lately whatever Spock wanted, Spock got.
I'd never seen that look of lust from him before. I hated to think it was Pon Farr but I knew instinctively that we'd set something off. It had to be that.
There was something else, much worse. As much as I tried to, I couldn't hide any emotions from him, anymore. I knew he could also read all of my thoughts. It was most likely a by-product from all the intimacy. But it left me feeling violated.
I would be damned glad when these Runes were finally finished. We would be done with the sex for good. We would hopefully get back to our normal lives. But what was supposed to be a normal life for us? How did we go back to being just friends after this? I for one wouldn't be able to look him in the eyes. I would always remember this.
He turned to go.
"Spock," I quickly called out from the bedchamber.
"Goodnight, Leonard."
What? No good night kiss? Nothing? I stood up from his bunk and walked into the office. I was completely nude. I used to be rather bashful about a sex partner seeing me naked, but no more. I made sure he got a good look at me in the low light of the cabin.
It felt a little strange for me to walk into the office chamber, like this. He stared at me. I must admit I now got a perverted pleasure in him seeing the body who kept him warm at night; the body that he was deliberately ignoring right now. The body that he had no more than a couple hours ago, drained all his seed into.
"May I suggest, Leonard," he said, evenly, "that you shower before falling asleep in my bunk. Please change the sheets, as well."
"Spock," I replied hotly, folding my arms. "I'll do one better! I'll take a shower, then, fall asleep in my own bunk! How's that?!"
His expression was stone. "I prefer that you remain here."
"Fuck you!" I spat. I rushed to the sleep chamber, picked up my uniform off the floor and pulled it on.
He was on me in a flash, grabbing onto my wrists. "Leonard," he whispered, "do not do this. Not now."
It hurt where he was grabbing me, but I didn't cry out; I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was causing me any pain. I stared back, stoically. Challenging him. "Do what you want to me, Spock. Isn't that what you always do?"
He released me. "Leonard."
"You knew I didn't want to be penetrated. You did it anyway."
He nodded. "I know. May we discuss this later?" I again saw the fear in his eyes.
I finally nodded and watched him sullenly as he stepped out.
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The first thing I notice is the smell. I feel the hairs on the back on my neck stand up. That is my only physical response. I inch my way into the overheated cabin. It is no use calling out…I know what I will find. But I still hold onto some irrational hope. As I get closer to the shower, the distinct sickly sweet metallic odor of blood gets stronger… I enter the bathroom, and finally the shower stall. I kneel down among the coagulated pools of blood and feel for the pulse at the neck. Nothing. I feel where the heart is located…nothing. The skin does not yield to my touch. Rigor is beginning to set in… death occurred approximately…14 hours ago. My scanner out…I check for possible minute brain function…nothing… from a precursory visual exam… I can tell the victim has been stabbed at least twenty- eight times along with an initial fatal slash wound at the neck, severing the carotid--
"SPOCK! Who did this to you!?" I screamed. I snapped awake, sweating and panting heavily. I sat up. It was dark here in Spock's quarters. I ordered the lights up. Oddly they would not function.
As I became fully awake, I realized that Spock was still on duty on the bridge. I could feel him there. I didn't know how I could. But, I could. He was safe and sound. I rubbed my eyes.
I glanced over at the demon-like creature on the fire pot. It's red light was the only thing illuminating the cabin. It was always there on Spock's ledge; that fire-pot. Funny, I never noticed it having that expression before. It seemed to be staring straight at me.
An eerie chill moved through my bones. I turned away.
Just then the buzzer sounded. I checked the chrono: 04:01. Who the hell would it be at this hour?
It was Jim Kirk.
"Bones?" He walked in with a bottle of Saurian Brandy and made himself at home by sitting down at the foot of the bed. He stared at me. I could make out his blank stare in the red light. I swiftly pulled the strewn about bedclothes over me for modesty's sake, realizing that I still was completely nude. In the warmth of this cabin, I always slept in the nude.
Now, I felt oddly vulnerable. Jim Kirk never sat on my bed. Maybe he always did that with Spock.
"Jim?" I croaked.
"Yes?" He continued to stare at me, calmly.
"Spock's on duty," I said.
"I know that," he replied.
"So… what are you doing here?"
"I came to see you," he said, still staring at me intently. "I wanted to apologize."
"At this hour? Can't it wait till later?"
"No. It can't," he said softly, still staring at me.
"Something wrong, Jim?"
"Just came by to talk, that's all," he replied. He held up the brandy. "Have a drink with me."
"Now, Jim?"
"Uh huh," he said.
Maybe Jim couldn't sleep. Maybe something actually was bothering him and he needed a friend. "Just a minute," I sighed. I rose up from the bunk pulling the sheet with me. Even with my back turned, I knew that for an instant, he'd caught a glimpse of my naked body as I dropped the sheet on the floor to slip on Spock's black silk robe. I could feel Jim's eyes follow my every move.
With the Vulcan robe now `protecting' me, I padded out to the office area in my bare feet, waving Jim over to the desk. "Sit here, Jim," I said. He seemed to rise up off the bed with great difficulty.
Ah. I knew my best friend very well, and my observations of his behavior right now told me that our esteemed starship captain would be needing a hangover cure in the immediate future.
"Jim." I clucked my tongue disapprovingly. "I think you've had enough booze, but maybe I'll make myself a little drink." I'd cut way down on the alcohol ever since being robbed on Barengaria. But, maybe there wasn't any harm in having just one.
"Computer, Main cabin lights up to forty percent," I ordered. They still would not function.
"You still have a few hours before you go on duty," Jim said, oblivious. "Have a drink. That's an order," he chuckled.
I chuckled too. "Sure, why not?." I fetched a glass and took the bottle of Saurian Brandy out of Jim's hands. Pouring the liquid into the glass, I mused, "So let me guess, you were feeling a little guilty about the way you've been treating your kindly old doctor lately. You couldn't sleep, so you thought you'd have a few too many then come on over and pester me." I drained the entire glass of brandy, then poured myself another.
He didn't respond to my comment. He just stared at me, blankly. I laughed feebly and got up from the desk. I felt the crisp silk of Spock's robe fluttering around me as I went over to Spock's dressing table and picked up a bottle of eye drops. I gazed into the mirror as I put the soothing liquid into my bloodshot eyes.
God, my eyes were killing me.
I felt Jim's presence right behind me. His voice seemed to be right in my ear. "What's the matter? Eyes hurt?"
"Yeah. I need to have them checked out by M'Benga. Maybe they didn't heal prop--" I stopped and stared into the mirror. I couldn't see Jim. I should have been able to, even in the low light of Spock's firepot, but I couldn't see him. I spun around in alarm. "Jim? You have no reflection in the mirror."
"Probably just your eyes playing tricks on you."
That must be it. The acid spill really did do a number on them.
Suddenly I noticed a strange odor wafting in. "What's that smell?" I demanded
"Smell? The spicy- flowery scent? It always smells like that in here, Bones. Doesn't it? You should know. You seem to be spending a lot of time in here."
"It smells like copper… or even…urine." I finished up with the eye drops and sniffed the air.
"No…I don't smell anything like that, Bones."
"I could swear…" I looked around the cabin, walked into the bed chamber, sniffing, and walked back to Jim. "It's all around Spock's quarters."
"Well, perhaps it's a malfunction in the heating duct, but it smells like Vulcan spice to me." He shrugged.
"Okay Jim. Fine. Let's talk, shall we?" I beckoned him over to the desk again.
He remained standing then creeped up a little closer to me. "He doesn't mind you wearing his robe?"
"No. Not really."
"Oh."
I studied him. "You didn't come over here at 04:00 just to ask me about Spock's robe."
"No."
I motioned for him to move back to the desk with me. I picked up my glass and drank a huge gulp of brandy. "Jim?"
"Yes?" He continued to stand there and stare at me.
"Just how much have you had to drink tonight?"
"Drink?"
"Yes. You appear to be highly inebriated," I said. "That's unusual. We aren't on leave." I'd had to carry this guy countless times out of bars on various planets. But on board ship he usually restrained himself to one or two drinks.
"I'm fine, Bones," he said softly.
I sighed and set my glass down. It made a soft tap in the quiet. "Uh, look," I said. "I know you're having a difficult time dealing with…" I made a wide gesture. "All of this going on."
He gazed at me.
"And, I want you to know," I continued. "That--very soon--you get to have him back."
He laughed. "That's very kind of you, Bones."
"As soon--"
"As soon as you're done fucking him," he finished the sentence for me. Then he laughed again. A very hollow, sinister laugh. That was not like Jim at all. Even a drunk Jim. "Isn't that right, Bones?" he asked.
I folded my arms around me. "Jim. Listen. I never meant for this to happen. I'm sorry that-- I'm sorry that we hurt you."
"I miss him."
"I know." I studied my bare feet. "I know you do."
"And, I miss you, Leonard," he said.
Uh... "Sure Jim. I miss you too. You and I haven't had a drink together in a while and I--"
He very quietly inched up even closer to me. "I've known you for fourteen years--"
"Yeah I know--"
"And I never…ever…knew that you liked men. In that way."
"I don't," I replied, honestly. "Not really."
He smiled. I guess not believing me for an instant.
Suddenly, there was a slight pinging noise. Probably the ventilation system. Jim turned his head to investigate and spotted the Runes in the corner, sitting there on Spock's ledge. I had thought they were on the bedside table. Perhaps Spock had moved them. Jim immediately made a bee-line for them. "What are these?"
I didn't feel like giving a long detailed explanation to a drunken Jim. "They're nothing."
"Nothing? They look like something." His hand hovered over the velvet bag.
"Please don't touch them, Jim. It's just a pretty trinket I bought on Barengaria Seven." It would be my rotten luck that he'd come into contact with them, and then I'd probably have to have sex with him too.
"Don't touch them? I'm the captain," he chuckled. However, he finally lost interest in them, luckily without laying a hand on them, and came closer to me. "Leonard."
I stepped back. "I think you should leave. Go back to your quarters. Sleep it off. I'll cert you too ill for duty and come see you later on in the day. Okay, Jim?"
He didn't obey. "What's the matter, Bones?"
"Nothing. I just--"
He leaned in even closer to me. Close enough to where I could smell his breath.
"That robe makes you look very--" He suddenly looked around him, shocked. "I'd better go home." He went towards the doors.
I got up and followed him. "That's a great idea. I'll come by and see you later on today. Here I'll give you back your brandy bottle, hang on." I turned away from him to pick up the bottle off the desk; turned back to where he was standing.
He was gone.
"Where'd he go?" I asked aloud; the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. My hand shook as I poured yet another drink. I downed it then poured myself another.
I would be damned glad when Spock came back.
As I finished up my brandy, I decided not to wait for Spock to return. I would go meet him on the bridge. There was no way I was going back to sleep. Not now.
I pulled on my uniform. The silk of my sickbay tunic was wrinkled from where it had laid folded up on Spock's dressing table. I didn't feel like spraying on anti-wrinkle, nobody would notice at this hour. Till the shift change at 06:00, it was still considered night watch, with a skeleton crew.
I strolled out into the darkened and deserted corridor and entered the lift.
Just then, James Kirk bounded into the lift. Eyes bright as a button and crisp as can be in his golden uniform. "Morning, Bones. Your uniform's wrinkled. More so than usual."
I started. "Jim? I just saw you a half hour ago. You were--"
"I was what?"
"You were…well… you were very drunk."
"When?" he chuckled, mildly.
"Just a half hour ago. You came to see me in Spock's quarters. Don't you remember? I suppose you're headed up to sickbay, wanting me to medically sober you up," I growled.
"Bones!" he snapped in his usual `I've had it with your bullshit' voice. "What the hell are you talking about? I've been in my quarters. Asleep."
"Oh..." I shook my head in bewilderment.
"Smells like you've had a lot to drink, Bones. In fact it looks like you can hardly see straight."
My head snapped up. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Late Reports. Daydreaming. Late for your shifts. Mistreatment of your staff. Now this. You're on report, Doctor McCoy," he snapped. "Report to sickbay and get yourself checked out."
"Yes sir."
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END OF CHAPTER 11