Summary: McCoy and Spock are in a relationship. They decide to let this be known by demonstration. Poor redshirt.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, characters, ideas, places, etc.

Warnings; Slash.

McCoy sat next to Spock in the mess hall, as always, and glanced around both nervously and eagerly. His muscles were tense, his heart racing with the thought of their decision. Jim sent them a quizzical look across the room for not joining him, but was distracted by a crewman a moment later. McCoy looked to his bondmate.

They had debated how to tell their friends and, inevitably, the crew of their relationship, but couldn't think of a way. They had both agreed that nobody would believe that it was not some strange joke without at least several minutes spent in the endeavour of convincing them, which would just be awkward and likely make everyone else uncomfortable. So, they had decided on a quick way that should leave it quite plain, even without the aid of words, what was between them.

"When would be appropriate, in your opinion?" Spock murmured, voice barely audible. Through their mind-link he felt the Vulcan's own anxiety.

He took a moment to admire the contours of his bond-mate's face. "Any time is fine with me," he said, flirtatiously. The light reflected off the other's face enticingly, but he mentally shook himself. "Well, we should wait until there's a good crowd so nobody can doubt the rumors..." he glanced around. The room was packed. "...Right. So, anytime, then."

Spock raised a slanted eyebrow. "You are uneasy."

"So are you."

"If you do not wish to - "

"Oh, goddammit." Decisively he turned, grabbed the other on the bench beside him, and pressed his lips to Spock's.

And then completely forgot about everything else.

"So, Sir," the abashed crewman told Kirk, "I really had no choice b-but to..." The crewman stopped, gaping at some point past his shoulder, mouth literally hanging open. Kirk frowned severely.

"Ensign?" he didn't reply. More sharply; "Ensign!" The one before him didn't so much as glance at him, but a few more of his crew looked back at him to his left, and promptly gaped as well. A security ensign choked on his food and had an impromptu coughing fit. Frustrated, he automatically turned to look at the source of the commotion.

For a moment, he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing.

Spock, McCoy, sitting close. Very close. In fact, it seemed like their lips were meeting. And moving. While they had their arms wrapped around the other.

What?

He gaped along with the rest of them.

For a minute... Then another.

As the shock wore off (a little, anyway) he slowly stood, and now the silent crew snapped their attention to him. He cleared his throat, loudly, and when there was no response again. Nothing.

"AHEM."

McCoy would later claim to an exasperated James that anyone would forget themselves while kissing his mate, at which Jim said quite sincerely that he hoped to never be able to verify statement. In any case it was quite a shock when he was interrupted from his bliss.

"AHEM."

He sprang away from his mate as though burnt. Spock drew back more calmly, the bastard (yes, he knew it was rude, no, neither of them cared) looking as serene as ever. McCoy turned and saw Jim, staring at them, along with a dead-silent mess hall.

"...Sorry?"

"What...?" Jim stared at him.

"Something you needed?" McCoy added, pleasantly, for lack of anything better to say.

"Some - I - Are you ill? Crap." He turned to a crewman. "Tell Medical that there's some virus stimulating lust in the crew - "

"Jim!" McCoy interrupted, exasperated. "I'm not ill. I'm allowed to kiss my husband, I think."

There was a thump. No one spared a glance for the suffocating red-shirt on the ground, watching raptly.

Jim stared at him a moment. McCoy thought he heard him mutter, under his breath, "Hallucinogens...?"

"Jim, I'm serious. Don't look at me like that, I'm a doctor, not a druggie."

"Leonard," he very much preferred that to 'McCoy' or 'the doctor,' though admittedly only when said by this particular Vulcan. "is correct."

"You're... seriously... Okay, it didn't occur to you to just tell people before making a show?" He asked incredulously.

He was taking it better than McCoy had hoped, actually. "That was telling you. If a little... carried away." He snickered to himself a little, and Spock raised an eyebrow, as though to say, 'I never forget myself."

"...Husbands."

"Technically, the term is bondmates for Vulcans."

"Well, we can say now that you fight like an old married couple," Jim said, weakly, dazedly. Then he seemed to realize something, and straightened. Angrily;

"Hey! I missed the wedding?"

"...Umm..." McCoy and Spock exchanged concerned/serene glances. "...You know what, Jim, I think we have... some... things to do..."

McCoy was given the cold shoulder by Chapel for three weeks. Then she got over it and joined the disturbingly large group of people who followed them and kept giggling. They managed to avoid Jim's wrath for a few days. Unfortunately, they did not escape the teasing of the crew for several years.

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