Title: After the Rescue

Part: NEW 4/73

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.

It transpired that evening that Kirk did not ask Spock to play chess, preferring to catch up on his reading instead.

Spock and McCoy walked him to his quarters and proceeded the short distance to Spock's quarters. Where, once inside, they flung themselves on each other like crazed tribbles.

McCoy leaned back in Spock's arms, laughing as Spock muttered "door lock" with some urgency.

"What amuses you, Doctor?" Squeezing him.

"Our performance for Jim. It's so easy to behave as if there is nothing between us and then you touch me and I'm almost overwhelmed by what is between us."

Spock clasped McCoy's ass in both hands and pulled him against the rising Vulcan cock: "Would what is now between us be an example of that which you speak," he intoned dryly, then added, "Leonard," warmly.

McCoy nestled into Spock's arms and allowed himself to feel secure and loved, even though he knew the latter was rather farfetched, but, oh well.

Sensing McCoy's mood, Spock damped down his urgency and gentled his embrace.

McCoy turned his head to press his lips to Spock's. Being almost as tall as Spock, he didn't have to go too far to get to his lips. 'And wonderful lips they are,' thought McCoy, 'soft, warm, gentle.'

Spock leaned back, looking as serious as a heart attack: "Fibroblasts."

"What of them?" McCoy hissed pulling him back into the kiss.

Spock leaned back again a moment later: "Fibroblasts are what we discussed, after dinner, this evening, in my quarters."

"They are" kiss, nip, "one of," nuzzle, "my favorite," kiss, thrust, "subjects."

They devoured each other for a few more moments and moved to the bed.

McCoy yanked off all this clothes and went for Spock's. He was restrained and inserted into Spock's bed with a mild "Patience, Leonard, I will be with you in 43.2 standard seconds." McCoy wiggled in impatience, nevertheless, muttering, "Hurry up."

Spock slid beside him, embraced him and it was wonderful.

"Spock, I have a question?"

"Yes, Leonard?"

"How come I never get to penetrate, as you say, you?"

Spock paused before answering. "Do you want to .. penetrate me?"

"Yes."

"Now?"

"Well, sometime in the course of this evening, yes."

Spock was silent, mulling it over.

"Why do you hesitate?" McCoy asked coolly.

"Because I have never been penetrated before."

"Oh, so, you're a virgin. Well; I'll be gentle."

"I have no doubt, Leonard," Spock laid back and spread his legs.

McCoy, no fool he, settled himself between Spock's thighs and reached for the lubricant Spock kept by the bed.

Spock tensed, imperceptibly. 'Very direct,' he thought, impressed.

So Spock was rather puzzled when McCoy merely laid the container on the bed next to them and bent to give him a long, warm kiss. Spock ran his hands over McCoy's back and shoulders, relaxing into the kiss as McCoy had hoped he would.

"There, Spock; relax. I won't hurt you." 'As if I could,' he thought.

Spock looked into the mild blue eyes and gave himself over to McCoy.

McCoy, more perceptive than he let on, felt the subtle energy shift and was, himself, reassured. He dragged his tongue down to Spock's nipples and around, pausing to suck on them a bit, just to warm his lips up, then caressed his way to Spock's arching cock. He paused to smooth his fingers through the jetty pubic thatch, breathing softly against the base and scrotum.

Spock was very aroused, very trusting and shivered with pleasure as McCoy's mouth closed over the head of his penis.

'It is a wonderful mouth,' Spock thought, 'firm, soft lips, gentle teeth, clever tongue..oh...'

McCoy played with the head, sucking it, licking it, paying special attention to the band of nerves he discovered under the nicely flared helmet. He reached for the lubricant and applied some to his right fingers, never pausing in his oral ministrations, working his left hand up and under Spock, began easing his slippery middle finger into the Vulcan.

Spock's eyes flew open and with some difficulty resisted the urge to flee so personal (but exciting!) an invasion. Reminding himself what they were about (not to mention that it was a pleasant sensation once he was more used to it), made himself relax. So much so, that McCoy felt encouraged to slip in a second finger, pumping them gently in and out.

Vulcan anatomy was still a sketchy subject in Star Fleet medicine so McCoy didn't know if he would find what he was looking for. He was, therefore, very gratified to hear Spock gasp with pleasure as he rubbed his fingertips over the hard place behind the base of Spock's penis.

'Oh, good,' he thought, 'I've discovered the Vulcan love button. What a shame I can't publish and have it named after me.'

Interesting as this train of thought was, McCoy felt that Spock was as ready to be fucked as McCoy was ready to fuck him.

"Roll over, Spock, please," McCoy whispered, politely, reaching for a pillow to support Spock's hips. He carefully arranged Spock's hips and legs, gently massaged Spock's hard buttocks, spreading them, relaxing them.

McCoy lubed up and moved forward to center his cock against the tight ring of Vulcan flesh.

Spock tensed reflexively but McCoy had gravity and viscosity on his side and after a few seconds of coaxing and insistence succeeded in slipping the head in. And was suddenly in serious discomfort, having underestimated Vulcan reflexive muscle strength - his cock was held in a hot noose and could neither move forward nor pull out.

"Spock, for god's sake, relax!" McCoy grated out between clenched teeth. 'Before I faint,' he added to himself.

Spock, now over the initial shock of his first penetration, mastered himself and complied with McCoy's wishes.

"My apologies, Leonard, are you all right?" Obligingly arching his ass to facilitate McCoy's cock slowly sliding all the way in.

"Yes," McCoy panting, paused, resting his groin against Spock's ass. "But you are not, I repeat, not to cum while I'm inside you."

"Understood."

McCoy wondered if there was a note of petulance in that, felt bad for a moment and then decided to cheer up. Having caught his breath, he adjusted his knees and began cheerfully fucking the snug Vulcan ass beneath him. He stroked gently at first, finding a rhythm they both enjoyed, speeding up and cooling off as it pleased him.

Spock was also enjoying himself although it was increasingly difficult to forestall his climax, Vulcan control notwithstanding, especially as McCoy's penis stroked his prostate with every thrust. Thrusts that were now coming faster and harder.

"Leonard, ...I fear I will be unable to..." he began, panting.

"Shhhh," McCoy gasped savagely as he slammed into him, on the very edge of climax ... and then over, his cock jerking inside the Vulcan.

Spock, feeling McCoy's cock pulsing inside him, dug his fingers into the bed in effort but could not stop the climax that welled up and over him. He clenched and McCoy jumped in surprise but not pain and then sank down onto Spock's back.

They lay together, catching their breath. After a moment, McCoy leaned forward: "I thought I told you not to cum," he teased.

"I am sorry to disappoint you, Leonard."

"I am hardly" he pulled out, "disappointed, Spock," and then pulled the otherwise limp Vulcan into his arms. As usual, Spock's penis was still hard.

"Why does it stay hard after you cum?"

"Progeny are crucial to Vulcans therefore we have evolved in ways that ensure conception."

McCoy was silent for a moment: "So that you can have multiple ejaculations and still stay hard forever."

"Precisely."

"Fascinating."

* * *

It was a very pleasant routine they'd established over the intervening months, McCoy thought, stone cold sober, waiting for Spock on their afternoon. Once their passion settled down a bit, they spent, duty allowing, the afternoon and ensuing night of their free day together. Ostensibly, they discussed whatever was happening in the science labs, and they did, briefly, discuss such subjects, but mostly they made love - at various speeds and intensities and durations, McCoy added to himself.

Sex was wonderful with Spock, more sex with him would have been oppressive, less sex, like starving.

Neither knew if they were good lovers, nor did they care - they pleased each other and only cared about that.

McCoy had once made a thumbnail survey of the ratio of fucking Spock to being fucked by Spock. It turned out that every one in five encounters McCoy was the active partner, he didn't count the times when he got to be on top, only those when he penetrated the Vulcan.

He'd concluded that this was no bad thang (he liked Spock inside him) due to the strange fact that when they joined, from the first moment of physical contact, they were so in tune with each other that everything was perfect. It was wonderful.

Except when McCoy had had too much to drink. He smiled ruefully, remembering the first time he'd had one too many brandies while waiting for Spock. It was not wonderful, Spock was annoyed and let it show. He finally placed his hands on the side of McCoy's face and McCoy felt his happy brandy haze whirling up and up and out of the top of his head and away. Leaving him Stone. Cold. Sober.

"Spock! What a waste of good liquor," McCoy gritted as Spock dragged him to his own bed.

"I prefer not to have sex with you when you are incapacitated."

"I wasn't incapacitated. I was just ... very mellow." He sulked.

Spock had lost interest in conversation, being intent on undressing them both. McCoy gave up sulking and gave in, helping Spock off with his clothes and slipping docilely into bed, still soft but eager to have that be changed.

'I'll be passive,' McCoy thought, 'he'll like that.'

McCoy was then somewhat shocked when Spock immediately reached for the lubricant and crouched between his legs.

"Spock..." McCoy began tentatively, trying to think of a way to slow the Vulcan down.

Spock glanced up from sliding one, two then three fingers into McCoy in quick and efficient succession. He'd, however, made a point of giving McCoy's prostate a quick, hard massage in the process and felt vindicated when McCoy's cock sprang to full hardness, as expected.

"Nothing," McCoy hissed, going from tentative to hysterically aroused in a nanosecond.

Spock arranged McCoy's legs around his waist, rolled him back and centered his slippery cock at the entrance of McCoy's body. He waited, eyes hooded, to feel McCoy open to him.

McCoy gathered himself, relaxed and eased up ever so slightly against his lover's hardness. Spock looked at him as he pushed the head gently past the tight ring of flesh and stopped there, waiting for McCoy to adjust to their joining. Once he felt the tiny rebellion that always accompanied the first moments of this act subside in McCoy, Spock slid in, hit bottom and proceeded to leisurely fuck McCoy silly.

Spock idly noted that McCoy was, in fact, enjoying it but really didn't care. He was musing on McCoy's intoxication. It annoyed him because it so dulled McCoy's minimal telepathic abilities as to make satisfactory consummation impossible. He was still rather annoyed but sufficiently aroused to overlook it - this time.

Spock was getting close, his strokes were longer and harder, he could feel McCoy moving with him toward climax. He slid all the way in and gathered McCoy into his arms, held him close, soothing them both.

'Too soon,' Spock thought, pumping just enough to stay hard.

'I'm going to swoon from this pleasure,' McCoy thought, rubbing his cock against Spock's warm, furry belly.

Spock kissed his neck and under his tender ear, sucking gently on the soft lobe.

McCoy sighed, lay back passively and hoped Spock didn't mind. He felt Spock's teeth closing on his ear lobe and decided that, yes, Spock did mind and roused himself. He tightened his arms around Spock's neck and pulled him into a warm kiss (thus saving his ear lobe) and gently bucked his hips against Spock, who left him very little room to maneuver. He broke the kiss: "Fuck me, Spock," he whispered, sultry, urgent. "Please fuck me."

Spock mentally smiled very smugly and obeyed his lover with great thoroughness. His thrusts became harder, longer as he and McCoy rose together toward orgasm. For a few confusing seconds each held back to wait for the other to come first. Spock made the decision for McCoy by slamming into him twice, hard, and thus shoved McCoy over the edge into wild bliss. Feeling McCoy's cum splash between them and his ass clenching around him, Spock flung himself on his lover and let go a flood of hot semen, his cock jerking and pulsing inside the writhing, panting human.

He looked down at McCoy, who looked back at him with cloyed blue eyes.

McCoy slid his hands seductively up Spock's arms and shoulders to urge him down, into his arms.

Spock, however, stayed where he was, looming above him, chest moving, eyes inscrutable.

'Well, then be stubborn, Vulcan,' McCoy thought, flopping back, going limp as a rag doll.

After a moment, Spock, still hard, started to move again inside him. McCoy looked up at him, shocked and somewhat alarmed.

"It is always an option, Leonard," Spock rumbled, fucking a bit harder.

McCoy was enthralled but unfortunately exhausted from his own orgasm.

Spock did not seem to care, intent on his own pleasure, but McCoy roused himself a little to participate, if only to remind Spock that Spock was on a first name basis with the man beneath him.

Spock, sensing this, slowed a little and leaned down to kiss McCoy, lingering, intuiting and deciding. Deciding he'd take care of the doctor's pleasure later because he was aching hard and McCoy was just too far behind to catch up.

Alas, Spock thought, I will make it up to him ... later, and gave up thought. He leaned back and pounded into McCoy's unresisting body until he came with an animal-like cry. This time he did fall into McCoy's arms, spent and panting.

McCoy held his trembling lover tight and murmured soothing sounds. Emotionally, McCoy was a very compassionate creature and could feel great tenderness for Spock, even in those moments when Spock displayed his single mindedness for his own pleasure and total disregard for the doctor's.

'Oh well,' McCoy thought, massaging Spock's shoulders, 'doesn't happen very often and he's so beautiful when he comes - ummm- 'spose I'll hafta let him live.'

Spock shook himself a little and pulled out. He continued to lay on top of McCoy for the warmth and because he was wiped out.

'In a minute, I will get up,' he thought, falling into a profound doze.

'Well, at least he doesn't snore,' thought McCoy, wide awake, well fucked, one climax short and Stone. Cold. Sober.

As sober as he was at present, remembering that afternoon with much pleasure.

The second time Spock had found his lover two and three quarter sheets to the wind was a less pleasant encounter.

Assessing the situation, irritated, he had simply undressed McCoy, put him to bed, bid the doctor a testy good afternoon, and left. McCoy had been deeply annoyed.

"I'm not that smashed," he snarled to the room in general, dozing off over his revenge plans.

(Spock's thought are unknown. He barricaded himself in his lab and was not seen until dinner.)

* * *

McCoy sat down to dine that same evening, the very picture of health, vitality and sobriety. Even Kirk commented on how well he was looking.

McCoy had awoken earlier that afternoon with resolve to salvage what was left of his day with Spock. He marched into sickbay and whipped up a hypospray of palliandexatrine and mzeobenzadrine derivatives, added a splash of niacin and ascorbic acid. This fabulous concoction he'd discovered in med school - the stimulants got you through whatever and the vitamins fixed you up when you crashed. It was wonderful. The whatever McCoy had to get through today was a grueling flat out ten kilometer run on the gym track that would drive all the liquor (as well as the speed and any other lurking toxins) thoroughly out of his system.

McCoy hated exercise and he allowed his hyper brain to contemplate this as he rounded the track for the nth (he thought) time. The only exercise he could tolerate was running because it was mindless and over quickly. McCoy was glad to be alone on the track, he knew he was not a pretty sight - sweaty, gasping but feeling absolutely no pain whatsoever.

McCoy hit the 10 kilometer mark, circled once more, just for luck and proceed to scald himself under a hot shower until the vitamins kicked in, which they obligingly did. He returned to sickbay where he dosed himself with terran B complex and borian herbs, drank two liters of water and, just to be thorough, gave himself a high colonic. After a short nap and a bracing cold shower he felt purified, inside and out.

Blue eyes sparkling, skin glowing, in excellent spirits, McCoy made his way to dinner and was devastatingly charming to everyone.

"I'm pleased to see you in such a good mood, Bones," Kirk smiled at him. "I've been worried that you're working too hard. You and Spock are working too hard," he added, munching his salad.

"I love my work, Jim," McCoy glanced at Spock, "I find it fascinating, compelling, exciting..."

"I'm glad to hear it," Kirk interposed, "I want you to be happy."

"But I am happy, very happy," McCoy asserted.

"Well ... good!" Kirk laughed, charmed.

Spock pushed his plate away: "A game of chess, Captain?"

* * *

end of part 4

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