Title: After the Rescue

Part: NEW 3/73

Author: Karmen Ghia, karmen_ghia@yahoo.com

Series: TOS

Romance Code: S/Mc and then some.

Rating: NC-17

See part one for disclaimers, etc.

Perhaps they were cooling off. Perhaps not. He hadn't made love to Spock in six days and McCoy was really feeling it. 'Longing, I haven't longed for anyone like this since I was a teenager,' he mused. But soon the wait would be over, they both had a free afternoon and evening and McCoy dearly hoped to spend it horizontal with Spock.

In addition to hiking the heat up for Spock, McCoy had bathed carefully and put on his outrageous robe. Since he was fretting with waiting, he decided to pass the time writing to his sisters. He sat at his viewer, arranging the voluminous skirts around him and got as far as "Dear Girls," before Spock arrived. And a welcome distraction he was as McCoy hated writing to anyone and loved seeing Spock on his threshold.

"Oh, Spock, there you are at last," he smiled warmly.

"Indeed." Spock nodded and turned to lock the door. He was in his usual off duty, around the ship garb - black uniform T-shirt and trousers with a heavy gray sweater on top. McCoy had always thought it a frumpy outfit, now it all seemed incredibly sexy.

Turning back, Spock regarded the doctor, seated demurely at his table, with appreciation. The skirts of his robe reminded Spock of an illustration he'd once seen of a Vulcan pre-reformation court costume, most frequently worn by imperial concubines of both sexes. Pre-reform Vulcan was not a logical place but in some ways it was as, if not more, fascinating than post-reform Vulcan.

McCoy stood, uncomfortable under such scrutiny, regretting he'd worn the robe since it was so flamboyant.

"I find this gown visually pleasing on you, Leonard." Moving close and circling around behind him.

"Oh? Don't you think it's a bit much for a simple, unvarnished type such as myself?"

"No." Spock nuzzled his neck and slipped his arms around McCoy's waist, running his hands over his chest and hips.

McCoy smiled and nestled back into Spock's embrace. If Spock wanted to pay him compliments he'd just have to suffer through it with as much grace as possible.

"Leonard," Spock stepped back abruptly, "the Captain asked me what you and I were going to do this afternoon."

McCoy turned. "And what did you say?" Intrigued.

"I said we planned to discuss the prostaglandin system of the organisms we sampled on Kappa 7-12."

"That won't take long, Spock, those organisms don't have a prostaglandin system." He looked at his lover, "However, the lack of one is rather interesting." They sat to discuss it.

"Feel better?" McCoy asked ten minutes later.

"I do not feel anything, Doctor, I do, however, find it a fascinating subject," Spock commented dryly.

"Yes, but that's enough of it for now, dontcha think?" Smile.

Spock nodded, McCoy stood up from the table. Still seated, Spock caught his hand and drew him close, looking up at him, eyes unreadable. The skirts of McCoy's robe rustled intimately against Spock's knees. Spock took hold of McCoy's waist and moved his hips against the table, then lifted McCoy onto the table and spread his knees apart. McCoy was surprised and aroused but still modestly clad in his flowing robe. Spock tugged the sash loose and smoothed his warm hands over McCoy's chest. He pinched the hot, hard nipples as he found them, easing him into a reclining position on the table while continuing his explorations.

McCoy's erection was becoming obvious beneath the brocade. Spock moved only enough silk to explore McCoy's trembling rosy cock.

"Lie back, Leonard," he purred, drawing his finger along the bottom of McCoy's penis, kissing the head lightly.

McCoy sighed with pleasure and lay back in perfect bliss.

Spock laid his head on a silk clad thigh and caressed the base of McCoy's arousal with his tongue, nuzzling into the soft brown pubic hair. His hand massaged McCoy's thighs and groin while he played his lips and tongue over McCoy's hardness.

'It's wonderful,' thought McCoy, relaxing under Spock's hands. "Oh," he gasped as Spock's tongue circled the head of his cock.

Spock was enthralled by the taste and texture of McCoy's cock. Also by the reactions he could provoke through various actions. For example: sliding his tongue from the helmet to the base caused sighs of pleasure. However, sliding his teeth at the same velocity and pressure caused McCoy to flinch away from him. On the other hand, enclosing the head in his mouth and allowing his teeth to close gently beneath the flared bottom while sucking very hard caused writhing, accompanied by low moaning. Spock was deeply intrigued. He leaned back to examine the object of his oral attentions. Examine and caress with one warm hand, fondling his testicles with the other. In a new found appreciation for such things, Spock concluded that McCoy's cock was lovely. Perfectly proportioned to his body, smooth, rosy skin, slightly darker at the elegant head, and best of all, it fit perfectly down Spock's throat.

McCoy gasped as his cock was suddenly swallowed and massaged by Spock's powerful tongue and throat muscles. Fleetingly, he thought Spock's soft palate had a better grip than his own right hand. Then Spock did an incredible thing and McCoy thought he'd die of pleasure. Spock began to purr.

"Oh...oh," the vibration against his head, the lovely suction, the sight of Spock so intent with Spock-like intensity.

"Spock! I'm going to cum," urgently, conflicted between wanting to cum and wanting to continue.

Spock perceptively sensed the doctor's conflict and made the decision for him. He changed his purr to a growl and began to move maddeningly up and down on McCoy's cock. McCoy writhed beneath his mouth, doubly so when Spock's powerful tongue stroked the nerves under the helmet with each upward sweep. It was effective. Spock tasted sweet, salty drops on his tongue and McCoy began to make sounds Spock identified as orgasmic.

Spock increased his pace until he felt McCoy thrusting helplessly up and cry out. Spock forced the spewing cock down his throat and swallowed and swallowed until McCoy was empty, panting and limp. Slowly, teasingly he pulled his mouth off McCoy, gently sucking, still playing his tongue over the now flaccid organ, making McCoy moan and sigh.

Spock sat back for a moment, simply contemplating his satiated lover. Feeling the gaze, McCoy opened his dilated blue eyes and fixed Spock with a look of pure sexual euphoria and...the same look that had so pleased and confused the Vulcan on the Galileo was there again. The combination was devastating to Spock but he quickly mastered himself. Rising, carefully closing the robe and retying the sash, he picked up the pliant McCoy and carried him to he bed.

"You're always carrying me around my cabin," McCoy murmured vaguely.

"Does it displease you?"

"No, I like it, makes me feel ..."

"What?"

"...yours."

Spock held him a little tighter and had no words. He laid him gently on the bed and sat next to him.

McCoy cuddled up and whispered: "You're wearin' too much clothing, Spock. Get rid of it. I turned up the heat so you won't freeze."

"Most thoughtful of you, Leonard."

"Logical, too, dontcha think? Erectile tissues in mammals respond poorly to cold temperatures and this situation cries out for hard, happy, erect tissues, correct?"

Spock raised his brows and nodded, rather impressed. He pulled off his sweater, folded it and laid it neatly on the chest of drawers. McCoy leaned back patiently to watch Spock's methodical striptease, rest and gather strength for the next course. He smiled, admiring the powerfully beautiful body efficiently being revealed.

"Yes, very logical, Leonard, well done."

"All for you, Spock."

Spock looked down at him, cock rising.

"Yes. All for me."

He lay down and pulled an amused human into his arms.

"Yes, Spock. All for you," McCoy murmured between kisses.

Spock rolled on top of him and rubbed sensuously against the brocade and McCoy's renewing erection under it.

"Let me take this off...," McCoy began.

"Not yet," Spock commanded.

That low, imperative voice sent a shiver of pleasure through McCoy.

Spock held him close and looked into his eyes.

"What are you thinking, Leonard?"

'How come I don't fuck you?' he thought, but said: "How much I'm enjoying this."

Spock kissed him, softly: "Perhaps we might do something new this afternoon."

"Like what?" McCoy was thinking: 'bondage? SM? I'm practically in drag, so we've done that.'

Spock rolled onto his back and seated McCoy over his hips, tugging open the robe and arranging the skirts over his legs. McCoy thought that was a bit odd but, oh well, and he reached down to stroke them together. Spock reached for the lubricant, silent and intent.

McCoy continued his massage as Spock moved his hands around behind and under him, he felt Spock slip his middle finger inside him. McCoy squirmed a bit as Spock's second finger joined the first.

Spock squeezed some lubricant onto the doctor's hands. McCoy smoothed the gel on both cocks while Spock reached under the human's hips and maneuvered his anus over the head of his very hard, slippery cock and waited. McCoy braced his hand on his thighs as he felt Spock slowly withdrawing his support.

McCoy let himself sink down a little, felt uncomfortable and moved back up. Spock merely watched him as he stroked McCoy's cock teasingly.

'This really is up to me, isn't it?' McCoy thought and descended again. This time he consciously relaxed all his muscles and pushed against Spock's penis. It was a bit of a struggle but the head suddenly popped inside.

McCoy gasped in surprise and discomfort and would have pulled off had not Spock's strong hand on his hips held him still, soothing him, supporting him.

McCoy was panting, adjusting, stretching. He looked into Spock's dark eyes, watching him, and saw the demanding message there: pleasure me. McCoy, thrilled, let his eyes half close and thought, 'so, I will.'

Spock returned his hands to McCoy's penis as McCoy slowly sank down upon the full length of the Vulcan cock. McCoy took his time, and once fully impaled, ground down and around a bit, just to see what effect this would have on the already flushed and panting Vulcan. It caused Spock to grab McCoy's hips and thrust helplessly up into him.

"Steady, Spock," McCoy murmured, moving Spock's hot hands back to his erection.

McCoy paused, visualized some anatomy and clenched his muscles in an upward sweep around Spock's penis. Spock's eyes widened in lasciviousness and his chest began to rise higher.

McCoy was stroking the Vulcan frantic while barely moving. Spock tried to thrust up once or twice but gravity and the doctor were against him. He finally just lay back and let pleasure wash over him.

McCoy began to move in slow ovals, sliding infinitesimally upward as he did. He felt very powerful as his every motion sent a shiver of pleasure through the fevered, trembling body beneath him.

McCoy increased his range, sliding a little further up the Vulcan cock and down again. Spock thrust gently up to meet him as he descended and McCoy, very generously, allowed him to do so.

McCoy leaned back to change his angle slightly and gasped as he slid Spock's hard penis across his own prostate. He had been hard but now he was rock hard and enjoyed it so much, he did it again and again, faster and faster.

This was fine with Spock, who was very ready to cum and waiting for McCoy out of good manners. He thrust up to meet him, matching his pace, stroking his slippery cock, enjoying the frantic rustle of the silk accompanying their building climax.

McCoy was gasping for breath, head thrown back, flinging himself down the full length of Spock's hardness with wild abandon. Every stroke brought him a little closer to the sweet oblivion he so desperately sought. It was all he wanted, would have killed for it.

At just that moment, however, Spock grabbed his hips and forced him all the way down on his cock and held him there.

McCoy howled and squirmed like a wild thing: "No! Spock! Lemme go!"

Spock growled low in this throat and came as McCoy's struggles pushed him over the edge.

Feeling Spock pumping into him, feeling his own cock pressed hard against Spock's belly, giving one last twist of rebellion against the masterful hands, McCoy pushed all the air out of his lungs and exploded onto the Vulcan. Shuddering with release, he fell forward into Spock's strong arms. He lay his head on Spock's shoulder, trying to catch his breath while Spock stroked his silk covered back, soothing him.

"Now can I take off this damn robe?"

"Now, Leonard, you may do anything you wish."

* * *

They showered together and it was pleasant even though Enterprise showers were designed with one occupant in mind. Of necessity, they were all over each other but that was what made it ... pleasant.

"Wouldn't we be happier having a snack here instead of dining with Jim, in public?" McCoy asked reasonably as he dressed.

"I would not know, Leonard," Spock said, pulling his gray sweater over his head. "The Captain asked us to dine tonight and we have no acceptable reason to refuse."

"True; we're flush out of prostaglandins."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Yes, Spock, you're right, it will be wonderful."

'And,' McCoy added to himself, 'I will do my level best not to think about how much I want to slide under the table and suck your cock in front of god and everybody.'

Spock regarded him, almost fondly: "We can, of course, return here or to my quarters after dinner," he ventured.

"Oh? Good! So there is something to look forward to." McCoy zipped his boots up, looked up. "And if he asks you to play chess, what then?"

"Then I will meet you here or in my quarters after I have played chess with Captain Kirk."

McCoy knew that tone, there was no arguing with it, so he didn't. He stood, obedient, acquiesced, resigned, and, now that he was all those things, found himself looking forward to a cozy dinner with the captain and his lover (the first officer), Spock (his lover); with Jim and Spock.

'I can do this, I know I can do this,' McCoy thought, 'I'll be fine once I get outta this overheated room and the cold air in the corridor hits me. Inhale. Exhale.'

He looked at Spock, who was studying him with scientific detachment and felt reassured by his gaze. Reassured, comforted and ready for anything right up until the door buzzed.

Spock's gaze flew over McCoy's left shoulder to the thrashed bed and the black robe sprawled lasciviously in the middle of the wreckage and back to McCoy, who was wondering if they could just not answer and decided, no, that would be unwise, and called "come."

Kirk strode in, smiling, looking hungry: "Gentlemen," he nodded. "I'm starving. Are you ready?"

Spock was nonplused.

"As we'll ever be," McCoy smiled fondly at his old friend and dearly hoped his new lover would snap out of it pretty damn quick.

"Yes, we are ready," Spock rumbled, coming to life and moving toward the door.

"Why is it so hot in here?" Kirk queried, looking around.

"Feelin' a mite cold, Jim," McCoy volleyed back.

Kirk glanced over McCoy's right shoulder and caught sight of the unmade bed. (Spock returned to stone.) He gave the doctor a stern look: "Bones, what a slob you are," he admonished.

McCoy gazed mildly back at him: "It's my day off, 'mother'."

"Even so ..." Kirk trailed off, clucking his tongue, leading them out of McCoy's quarters and off to a very pleasant dinner indeed.

* * *

end of part 3

This story also lives at http://members.tripod.com/karmen_ghia/