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“You are cold,” Spock observes when they finally pull apart from the first kiss they’ve shared since this whole thing blew up in their faces.
“I’m going to be cold for a while,” McCoy tells him, “thanks to that frozen hell of an asteroid penal colony.”
Spock’s arms tighten around his waist at the mention of Rura Penthe, but Spock’s face gives nothing away - except maybe exhaustion, McCoy notes - and McCoy reaches up to gently touch Spock’s cheek, turning his face a little towards his own. “You should go to bed, darlin’, you look like you could use some sleep.”
“I am fatigued,” Spock admits, and McCoy strokes his fingers across Spock’s face again.
“Go to bed, Spock. I’m going to take a shower.” McCoy lets go of the taller man and moves across Spock’s quarters, shedding his uniform as he goes. Spock watches him for a long moment and then begins to change out of his own uniform into his sleeping robe. The water setting starts in the bathroom and Spock sits and meditates to the sound of the running water. When he feels sufficiently calm, he gets up and moves across the room to the bed; he strips it of his more strictly traditional Vulcan sleeping wear and makes it back up with human pillows and blankets. He climbs under the blankets and listens to McCoy move around the bathroom. Spock closes his eyes finally, but sleep does not come. Despite his meditation, his mind is still not clear. He keeps thinking of Valeris, of how close they had come to outright war, and of course what he has not really allowed himself to face - the fact that he had purposefully left the two people most important to him in danger. His reasons for doing so were both understandable and logical, but that does not change the emotional impact of the action.
He opens his eyes to see McCoy enter the room dressed in the doctor’s favorite of Spock’s robes - the soft, white one. The door to Spock’s quarters opens just as McCoy finishes toweling off his hair and hurls the towel unceremoniously towards the bathroom.
“Jim.” McCoy moves towards the other man who’s stopped just a little ways into the bedroom.
“Bones.” Kirk sounds tired, as exhausted as Spock’s feels, and he puts his arms around McCoy’s waist, drawing the slighter man close, and kisses him, before burying his face in McCoy’s neck.
“Sweetheart.” McCoy’s hand brushes across the back of Kirk’s head through his hair and then cups it and draws Kirk’s face up to kiss him again, just as deeply, and Kirk’s hands slide into to the front of the robe McCoy’s wearing where it’s not clasped all the way to the throat.
Spock suddenly feels very alone and he shivers slightly on the bed. Both Kirk and McCoy had shut down their mental bonds with him when they beamed aboard the Klingon ship, and although Spock could have easily reached across and broken both of their barriers, he would never do such a thing to either man. The mental separation, though, had hurt almost as much as his decision to leave them.
“Leonard. Jim,” he says softly, but some of his need and pain must have leached into his voice despite his control, because both men turn to look at him with concern. He holds his hands out to them and with a sigh Kirk goes to him, wraps his arms around Spock, holds him close, kisses his lips, cheeks and forehead.
“Sometimes I hate loving you so much,” Kirk tells him, voice rough, and Spock’s arms twist around the slightly smaller man, drag him down onto the bed and into Spock’s lap. Spock cups Kirk’s face and they exchange several more wet open-mouthed kisses before Kirk pulls away slightly.
“Are you just planning on standing there and watching?”
McCoy shrugs, “I could.”
“Not tonight, Leonard.” Spock reaches up for him and McCoy crawls onto the bed, settles himself next to Kirk, who is curled against Spock’s side. Not that it lasts very long, as Kirk wiggles out from between the two of them to stand and strip off his uniform until he’s down to his underwear and t-shirt.
“You wouldn’t happen to have another one of those lying around?” He gestures to the robes McCoy and Spock are wearing, and Spock points to the closet before pulling McCoy to nestle against his chest. They kiss, Spock stroking his fingers along McCoy’s face and throat, allowing himself to feel the energy and emotion coming off the other man. His bonding with McCoy has always been different than his with Kirk; with Kirk, the two can exchange full thoughts and images, a meeting of minds, while with McCoy it is simply pure emotion and sensation, like endless deep water. Spock could never say which he enjoys more. Now though, he isn’t getting the full impact of either, and he feels the loss keenly. Touching McCoy as they kiss is like little tastes of what he wants, little currents of passion and intensity rushing through him, but not the full essence of the other man. Kirk comes back to bed then wearing another one of Spock’s robes, carrying a glass of water. For a few minutes he stands by the bed watching Spock and McCoy curled together exchanging slow, sloppy kisses.
“Now look who’s watching,” McCoy murmurs against Spock’s lips, and Kirk laughs softly and sits on the bed.
McCoy pulls away from Spock enough to wrap his arms around Kirk and pull him close, and Spock finally decides he must speak - he cannot continue on like this.
“Jim, Leonard.” They both turn to him and Spock thinks quickly how best to approach this. “I must . . .” He searches for words and they do not come. “I must be with you.”
There is silence and Spock struggles. “I am . . . you two have both blocked my access to our bonds,” he tells them plainly and watches the surprise and then concern slide across both faces.
“Darlin’.” McCoy is the first to move and he reaches out for Spock, catches Spock’s hand, strokes his fingers across the back of Spock’s hand, down his fingers. Little jolts of the intensity of McCoy’s presence slide through Spock and he can’t help but let his eyes shut for a moment, leaning into the touch. “Oh darlin’,” McCoy murmurs, and kisses him gently on the cheek.
“We had no idea,” Kirk tells him, and he can hear the honest regret in the other man’s voice “I knew I’d blocked you, but I’d assumed once we were back on the ship . . . I mean, I can feel you. Not as intensely as usual but I thought that was because I was tired and you were blocking me, because of Valeris.”
“I did block both of you when I took her mind,” Spock acknowledges, feeling the bitterness and mind-numbing pain rise up in him again at what he’d done, what he’d been forced to do.
Kirk reaches forward and takes the hand McCoy’s not currently holding and Spock feels a flicker of the link between himself and Kirk, and then slowly it begins to open and he almost gasps in relief. Kirk slowly presses his hand flat against Spock’s, his fingers stroking along Spock’s fingers. Their connection gently comes alive and McCoy turns to watch as Spock leans forward and kisses Kirk deeply, Dear one.
Kirk’s hands come up to pull Spock close, and they kiss, the sensation looping around until Spock can’t tell whose mouth is whose, who is lying on the bed with whose body pressing down, who is opening whose robe. Spock, Kirk’s voice inside his mind is gentle, concerned and strong all at once and Spock almost lets go of the pain, fear and grief that has built up within him through this entire mission. It’s not enough though; there is still an emptiness where there should be none and Spock slowly pulls away from the other man and turns to McCoy, who is curled up on the bed not far away, watching them.
“Leonard.”
McCoy shakes his head, “Sorry, Spock, I can’t. I mean I wasn’t even aware of blocking you in the first place. Sure, when we beamed over to the Klingon ship I knew things could go bad and I didn’t want you to get hurt, but it wasn’t like I turned anything off.” Spock stares at his mate for a long moment, thinking McCoy is the only being he knows of who can control a mental bond simply by caring enough about someone else.
“Come here,” he says softly, and McCoy scoots across the bed towards him, presses his hands against Spock’s shoulders. For a long moment Spock watches the emotions play behind McCoy’s blue eyes, then he reaches one hand up. McCoy takes a deep breath that Spock echoes. McCoy has never been comfortable with mind melds, too many people having taken liberties with his mind too often, and coming right after Valeris, Spock feels rather shaky himself. He fights down the feeling of illness that rises up in him and touches McCoy’s face, and at the same time he touches his mind. Then there is nothing but the intensity and deep emotion of the other man, everywhere and all around him, rising up to embrace him, and their link slowly opens. McCoy moves first, cupping Spock’s face and kissing him deeply and with passion and Spock feels the amusement, love and arousal coming off of Kirk on his other side and the intense waves of emotion, love, caring, and desire coming off of McCoy, and he closes his eyes and lets go. The pain, fear and grief crash down on him like a wave: watching Kirk and McCoy on trial without being able to help them or even mentally reach out to them; knowing what they must be going through yet unable to go to them, unable to feel their presence as he searches for the assassins; then Valeris’ betrayal of him and all that he believed in, and the cold fury when he realized what she had done; the pain, both physical and emotional, of forcing himself into her mind, feeding her own pain, which bled into his own self disgust at doing it while at the same time knowing he had no other choice; continuing to not be able to reach out to either of his mates for strength or comfort.
I am so sorry, Kirk says inside all of their minds, and McCoy’s hands undo Spock’s robe and gently strip it off him.
“Come here, sweetheart,” McCoy says softly, and Kirk goes to him, kisses him deeply, and Spock is caught up in the pleasure coming off both men, in the wet, sweet slip of lips meeting. His breath catches as McCoy undoes the clasps on Kirk’s robe, opens it, licks down the other man’s chest, one hand rubbing across his soft stomach. Kirk groans and McCoy pushes him back down on the bed, wraps his fingers around Kirk’s cock.
“I’m glad you were with me through this,” McCoy says softly against Kirk’s skin. “Having you there got me through. Except when you kissed that shape-shifter.”
“I didn’t!” Kirk tells him, heatedly. “She kissed me.”
“Yeah, whatever.” They laugh and kiss and McCoy sits up and reaches out for Spock. “What do you want, darlin’?”
“For now, for you to watch,” Spock says softly before gently pulling McCoy to him and opening the older man’s robe. He runs his hands down McCoy’s wiry body, through the light hair on his chest, then pinches at his nipples with one hand while stroking the other across McCoy’s stomach, purposefully avoiding McCoy’s cock. McCoy sighs and then groans, turning his face to mouth across Spock’s jaw, and Spock basks in both the pleasure he himself is getting from the act and the pleasure he can feel coming off of McCoy. He raises his eyes for a moment to look across at Kirk, who is watching them, both eyes dark and heavy lidded. Spock knows that Kirk, too, is feeding his own pleasure with the pleasure of his mates that is coming through their bonds. He gently sets McCoy aside and McCoy moves to prop himself up on the pillows, one hand idly running down his own body. Spock moves forward and kisses Kirk deeply and for a moment just holds the other man’s face between his hands.
“I know these last few days have been particularly trying for you,” he says softly, and Kirk reaches up and catches one of his hands.
“They’ve been hard on all of us,” Kirk says, and Spock nods and bends his head, kissing down the other man’s body until he finally takes Kirk’s cock into his mouth. Above him Kirk gasps and moans and Spock is almost overpowered by both the sensation of Kirk’s cock against his tongue and the sensation of sweet, wet heat that he’s getting off the other man, mixed with a thrill of voyeuristic pleasure from McCoy. Spock begins to suck gently and then harder, before almost pulling away completely and then swallowing Kirk down as far as he can take him; he senses the exact instant when McCoy’s hand wraps around his own cock and fights for control. Spock pulls his mouth back up Kirk’s cock and Kirk curses, hands fisting in the bed sheets, body shaking. Spock swallows him back down again and Kirk arches off the bed. Spock! He’s close; they can all feel it. Spock pulls back all the way off this time, panting slightly, and Kirk curses him in a way only McCoy usually does.
“Leonard.” Spock presses his face against his arm for a moment, regaining some semblance of control. “There is lubricant in the first drawer of the bedside table; prepare yourself with it.”
McCoy groans softly and moves to fumble with the table and Kirk pants harshly above him and Spock strokes one hand up Kirk’s cock, locks eyes with him, and then takes him back down without stopping. Behind him he hears McCoy curse as he fumbles with the lube, and Spock shuts his eyes and sucks hard. Both McCoy and Kirk cry out simultaneously when McCoy’s own fingers enter him, and Spock cries out across their bond, although he has enough control not to make any noise out loud. McCoy adds another finger, twisting and scissoring, and Kirk’s back arches off the bed as he comes. Spock swallows convulsively and then allows Kirk to remain in his mouth a little longer before he pulls away.
Spock moves up slightly, pressing his face against Kirk’s stomach as he regains his breath. Kirk is panting slightly, but the feelings coming through the bond are those of tired contentment and Spock almost feels tired himself. McCoy makes a small needy noise and both Spock and Kirk look up at him. McCoy’s eyes are blown wide and black with desire, and his legs are spread wide, two fingers working inside of his own body. Spock suddenly becomes keenly aware of his own need, his own erection still hard and straining between his legs. He moves across the bed, watches McCoy slowly lick his lips, before bending down and kissing the other man. McCoy moans into his mouth, hand coming up to grip the hair at the back of Spock’s head almost too tightly as his tongue surges into Spock’s mouth. McCoy’s other hand comes up to grip Spock’s ass, and Spock nuzzles against McCoy’s cheek and jaw, feeling the newly hairless skin there. McCoy groans and then laughs, glancing over Spock’s shoulder at Kirk, and Spock can feel the faint tendrils of arousal coming off the other man even though Kirk’s done coming for tonight. McCoy kisses Spock hard then, one hand letting go of his hair to cup the side of Spock’s face.
“Come on, darlin’, don’t keep me waiting.” McCoy’s voice is soft, deep and husky against Spock’s lips, and Spock slips one hand between them, curling it around McCoy’s erection briefly just to hear the other man gasp. He lets go of McCoy’s cock and slides his hand lower, cupping the other man’s ass before gently pushing one finger inside, and McCoy swears and writhes; he’s already slick and open and Spock draws his hand away, reaches behind both of them for several pillows which he places underneath McCoy’s hips.
“Come on, come on.” McCoy’s voice is rough, and he grips Spock’s upper arms hard. Spock kisses him again as he gently pushes into the smaller man’s body, and McCoy whimpers and moans nonstop into Spock’s mouth, and behind him Spock hears Kirk gasp a little and feels the pleasure coming off the other man as he watches. Spock takes his time slowly rocking into McCoy’s body, and McCoy sighs and groans and rocks back against him. Finally Spock stops, the two of them pressed against each other, and McCoy kisses him gently, almost chastely, on the lips, reassuring him. Spock pulls back and begins to thrust then, hard and sure. McCoy spreads his legs a little wider, then arches back against Spock, and Spock is dimly aware of Kirk moving behind him, and it’s too much, just far, far too much.
Spock, Kirk says inside his mind, love and lust tinting the one word, and he can feel Kirk’s hand resting on his back. McCoy’s mind is crashing down around him - wave after wave of love, desire, and affection - so strong, almost too strong. Spock makes a strangled cut off noise, and at the same time McCoy cries out too, hands reaching out blindly, and Kirk pushes up, awkwardly reaches around Spock’s moving body to clutch McCoy’s hand, then Spock and McCoy are coming simultaneously. McCoy swears and Spock’s body goes limp; Kirk’s hand is on Spock’s back and McCoy is still grasping the other one. They lie together quietly for several long moments while McCoy and Spock recover.
Finally Spock sits up and holds out two fingers to Kirk, who smiles and traces them with his own in a Vulcan kiss. McCoy groans a little then also sits up, and Spock turns to him with concern.
“Are you alright, Leonard?”
“Yeah.” McCoy stretches his legs out experimentally. “I’m fine, Spock.” He slides off the bed and searches around until he finds his robe and pulls it on. “We should all take a shower, though, and then go to sleep. I’m pretty much half dead here.” He heads for the bathroom and Kirk grabs his own robe and follows him. “Jim, don’t forget we still have to write up those reports on Rura Penthe before we forget all the details, like that’s even possible.”
Kirk gives him a look, “All the details, Bones?” He smirks as all three step into the bathroom, and McCoy slaps him on the ass. Spock has regained his Vulcan control by that point and therefore does not roll his eyes at his mates, but he does think about it.