Ch 20: Hell Hath No Fury
McCoy wasn't really the "early to bed, early to rise" kind of guy, but after being chased through the hall by Kirk, he felt it necessary to go to bed a little early the night before. However, he hadn't gone to bed nearly early enough to have his sleep disrupted at the equivalent of four in the morning Starfleet Regulated Time. A rather enthusiastic and vigorous knock at his door was the culprit. He squinted at the clock on his nightstand and groaned. Whoever it was that was knocking on his door at this time of night had better have a damned good reason for it or they were going to get an earful.
Throwing his sheets back angrily, he flew out of bed and opened the door. Staring back at him was the stony face of Spock. Either his brain was foggy or seeing Spock at his quarters at such an hour made no sense. What business could the Vulcan have with him to warrant such a visit? He decided to vocalize his thoughts in hopes his questions would be answered.
"Spock, what the hell are you doing knocking on my door this early in the morning? Don't you Vulcans ever sleep?"
Spock stared straight ahead, not making eye contact with McCoy. In his typical monotone voice, he said, "I have a matter of the utmost importance to discuss with you Doctor. May I come in?"
McCoy sighed and moved just enough to allow the Vulcan to enter his room. Rigidly, Spock walked past the doctor and stood in the middle of the room. McCoy turned around and let the door close behind him. Facing Spock's back, he took a couple steps closer to him. "Alright," he said, clearly agitated. "What's so damned important that it couldn't wait until a decent time of the day?"
In a whirl of motion that McCoy was barely able to see, Spock flung himself at the unsuspecting doctor and pinned him against the door behind him. McCoy's eyes widen as he felt the Vulcan's strength render him immobile no matter how he struggled to get away. Fear-stricken, he managed to say, "Spock! Have you lost your mind? What are you doing?"
"Educating you in the way of Vulcan rage," Spock said in a menacing tone. "You speak so much about how cold and unfeeling Vulcans are. I am about to teach you just how deep our emotions run." He placed a hand against McCoy's throat and squeezed. The air flow to McCoy's lungs was immediately cut off. His face turned red, then purple. Just as his eyes began to roll backward in his head, Spock released his throat.
Gasping for air, the color in McCoy's face slowly drained away. He stared at Spock, dumbfounded by his actions. His voice raspy, he asked, "Why…why are you attacking me?"
The menace in Spock's voice increased as he spoke in a low rumble, "Do not play stupid with me, Doctor. You know exactly why I am attacking you. I know your feelings for Jim and I know you made an advance at him."
The color in McCoy's face continued to drain away as he heard Spock's words. How did he know? Was Kirk really foolish enough to inform Spock about it? And even so, why would Spock react so violently? It wasn't as if he and Kirk had slept together. The Vulcan's slender hand grasped his throat again, this time significantly less tightly. Straining, he managed to say, "If you…know that…then you know…that Jim…rejected me. So…why…?"
McCoy was lifted off the ground by Spock, who tightened his hold on the man's neck. His eyes began to bulge as his face began to turn purple again. Clenching his teeth and wiggling his legs in an attempt to kick Spock, he clawed at the hand that held him steadfast against the door. He looked down at the enraged Vulcan and saw a look on his face he was sure he would see in his nightmares.
"So that you always remember that he belongs to me," Spock sneered. "You may have known him before he met me, but it is clear he has no romantic interest in you. I am aware that you think you are better than me for the simple fact that you wear your heart on your sleeve for all to see, but know this. Jim chose me over you despite that. Do not forget that my strength is three times yours, and thus I have the ability to crush you like a bug beneath my feet. If you ever try to convince him that you are the better choice of the two of us again, the Enterprise will need a new doctor."
Giving McCoy's throat a final squeeze, he flung the man across the room as effortlessly as if he had thrown a rag doll. The doctor slammed against the wall and fell in a crumpled heap on the floor. Barely conscious, he watched as Spock gave him a final look and left the room. If his eyes hadn't deceived him, he could have sworn he saw a smile on the Vulcan's face. Unable to believe what he had just seen and experienced, the world around him faded to black.
The door to Spock's room swished open, awakening the slumbering Kirk. Bleary eyed, he saw Spock stand before him with clothing in his arms. He gave him a sleepy smile and stretched in the bed. Spock silently admired the young captain's muscular chest and tried to ignore the sensation below his waist. In a calm, soothing voice, he said, "I am glad to see you finally awake. I took the liberty of bringing a clean change of clothes from your quarters. I do hope you do not mind that I entered without your permission."
Eyes closed, Kirk mumbled, "Of course I don't mind. Thanks for bringing me my clothes Spock." He opened his eyes and blinked rapidly to clear the sleep from them. Turning his head toward the Vulcan, he asked, "Did you sleep well?"
Spock's intent gaze on Kirk momentarily shifted away as snippets of his dream flashed before his eyes. Lying he said, "Yes, I did. I was surprisingly well rested after such a short rest, so I went for a bit of a walk. It was during that walk that I decided to retrieve your clothes." Part of him felt bad for not telling Kirk the truth, but when he thought about it, it really wasn't any of his business. He walked up to the bed and placed the clothes at the foot of the bed. Hands now free, he stroked Kirk's messy hair. "It is still early, but perhaps we should go to the bridge to see if we are almost at our destination."
Leaning against the warm hand of his beloved, Kirk nodded. He sat up in the bed and lovingly stared at Spock. Giving him a warm smile, he leaned forward and kissed him tenderly. Spock melted into the kiss and returned it fully. Kirk pressed his forehead against Spock and closed his eyes. It felt so good to just be himself with the Vulcan, and he hoped he was able to make Spock feel the same.
"Come Jim," Spock said softly. "Let's get you dressed." Reluctantly, he rose from the bed and handed Kirk the stack of clothes he had placed at the foot of the bed. Kirk sighed and took them from Spock. Jokingly, he said, "I take it you're not the type to cuddle much in the morning?" Spock rose from the bed and looked down at Kirk. "I'll wait for you outside Jim," he said, avoiding the question.
Kirk's eyes followed Spock's body as he left the room, his focus on the man's hips. To his dismay, Spock's hips didn't sway much when he walked, but the way the fabric clung to his cheeks was still a very delicious sight. As the door closed behind the Vulcan, Kirk recalled his dream from earlier that night. One minute he was driving in his dad's old antique convertible singing, the next he was watching his evening play in reverse and then forward again. He wasn't sure why he saw it, but he simply shrugged it off. The mind was a very strange thing that he didn't often try to understand.
He finally rose from the bed and began pulling on the articles of clothing that Spock had brought him. As his head poked through the hole at the top of his mustard-colored over shirt, he noticed the time. Four forty-three a.m. Spock hadn't been kidding when he said he hadn't gotten much sleep! No wonder he still felt so groggy! On a typical morning, Kirk would sleep until eight or nine o'clock. He took into consideration that he had gone to bed much earlier than usual the night before, but even then it was mighty early for him to be awake.
Kirk shook his head as he pulled on his pants. Something felt off about Spock being up so early, but he couldn't put his finger on it. During the shore leave, Spock typically woke up at around about an hour or so earlier than he did, so he wasn't surprised to see him up before him. It still didn't make sense that he would wake up this early though. Perhaps he was still feeling bad from the night before. It wouldn't be that unusual if that were the case.
He sat back down on the bed and pulled his boots on one at a time, tucking his pants leg into them before lacing them. He took a moment to observe Spock's room. He hadn't thought about it the night before, but this was his first time being in the Vulcan's room. Whenever they spent time together, it was normally in his quarters or in the recreation room or somewhere else in the ship. The room was significantly smaller than his, but more efficient in its space usage. No extra decorations adorned desktops or his night stand, no rugs or statues or clusters of items lay on his floor, and nothing hung from his walls. Not even the music box he received from Uhura sat out; Spock had placed it in his night stand. Everything in his room had an exact place and purpose, and despite its small size, energy flowed well throughout it. His feng shui skills were impeccable, but Kirk made a mental note to help Spock jazz things up a bit.
Fully dressed, he stood up and stared at the door but made no movement toward it. He debated whether or not he should try bringing up what happened with McCoy and Uhura. It seemed a bad idea to do so, since just last night the Vulcan had experienced somewhat of an emotional breakdown. But if he was going to be open and honest with Spock, he had every right to know about what happened, especially in regards to Uhura. Secrets between them would only create a rift between the two of them, which could be fatal so early in their relationship.
He took a deep breath and opened the door. Hearing the door open behind him, Spock turned to face Kirk, who smiled brightly at him. The captain looked down the hallway and was satisfied to see that they were the only ones there. It wasn't surprising considering how early they both were up. He grabbed the slightly taller man's shoulder and squeezed gently. "All ready. Let's go," he said.
The two walked in silence until they got to the elevator. Kirk pressed the button for the bridge as he entered and the two stood in the back of the elevator. As soon as the door closed, however, Spock reached forward and pressed the stop button. Confused, Kirk looked at Spock with furrowed brow. "Spock?" he asked. "What are-"
Kirk wasn't able to get another word out of his mouth as Spock's warm mouth pressed firmly against his. His tongue forced its way into Kirk's unsuspecting mouth and wriggled seductively. Kirk's mind instantly became a blank as he let his body be shoved against the back wall. Passion surged throughout Kirk's body and sent his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He closed his eyes and grabbed the back of the Vulcan's head, pressing his mouth harder against him.
The free hand that Spock didn't use to press Kirk against the wall roamed between Kirk's legs. As he expected, the front of his trousers sported a large bulge that throbbed against the palm of his hand. The warm touch of Spock's hand made Kirk's hips lurch forward involuntarily. He moaned against Spock's lips, which curled upwards in a smile. Kirk snaked an arm around Spock and grabbed his right butt cheek.
Spock moved his hand from the front of Kirk's trousers and pressed his entire body against the smaller man. He broke the kiss, gasping for air, and began kissing down Kirk's jaw line. Down he kissed until he reached the side of Kirk's neck, where he began to suckle. Kirk moaned softly as the delectable feeling of Spock's mouth lavishing his neck made him weak in the knees. The Vulcan supported his lover's weight easily as he continued to suck on Kirk's neck.
He gently began nibbling on the supple flesh that was already turning bright red from the vigorous sucking. Kirk's body bucked underneath him, his moans getting louder with each nip. Spock nibbled gradually harder and harder, digging his teeth into the sensitive flesh. The look of ecstasy on Kirk's face quickly turned to a look of pain. Breathlessly, he said, "Spock…not so hard…it…hurts…"
As Kirk said this, Spock bit down hard on Kirk's neck. He screamed in pain as the skin broke and fresh blood rose to the surface. Spock covered the wound with his mouth and licked it hungrily, enjoying the salty, coppery taste of the red human blood. He licked the wound until it clotted then pulled his face away from Kirk's neck. Seeing his own blood on the Vulcan's lips, Kirk looked at Spock in horror. The Vulcan licked his lips and smiled darkly at Kirk.
"Spock," Kirk said, fear and disbelief causing his voice to shake. "Why did you do that?"
"Why else? To mark you as mine," Spock said, as if what he did was the simplest action in the universe. Still smiling, he turned to the control panel and restarted the elevator. Facing the entrance, he added, "Forgive me for saying this, but I find your blood to have a rather inviting taste to it. I might partake of it again sometime."
Spock grinned evilly at the look of horror on Kirk's face as the elevator door opened in front of them. The blood still remaining in Kirk's body ran cold. He watched the Vulcan walk off of the elevator in utter astonishment. It seemed like Spock woke up on the crazy side of the bed this morning…
For the second time in the last few days, Azrael stared at the security screen with his mouth hanging open. He found himself very thankful that he was the only one that worked the night shift, because he was certain that if anyone else had witnessed what he just had, they would have gone screaming what they just saw down the halls like Chicken Little. At the same time, what he had just seen had disturbed him unlike anything else he had seen in his life.
It was no surprise that Azrael knew next to nothing about Vulcans. After all, he had signed up for Starfleet to become a security officer, not a xenolinguist or a medical attendant. The only thing he needed skill wise was a keen eye, swift reflexes, and strength; anything else took a back seat. But he began to wonder if Vulcans were not unlike the mythical creatures called vampires that were the subject of so many horror stories from Terran history. He made a mental note to stay as far away from Spock as possible in the event that he might take an interest in his blood.
The swoosh of the door caused Azrael to almost jump out of his skin. Standing before him was his relief for his shift. Hand on his chest to steady his heartbeat, he silently rose out of his chair and walked out of the room. His relief gave him a strange look as he passed by, but simply shrugged and sat in the now vacant seat.