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The Way You Worship

Summary:

"I just wanna make sure I have this right.”

Jim straightens and shrugs his shoulders. “I think it’s pretty straightforward, what we’re asking.”

“You wanna fuck me–” McCoy nods towards Jim– “and you wanna watch?” His gaze turns towards Spock, his eyebrow raised.

“If that is amenable to you,” Spock says, as expressionlessly as he can manage.

McCoy rolls his eyes. “Amenable he says.”

Notes:

Originally, this was going to be a K/S Spring Fever prompt fill for CampySpaceSlime. But, after writing 90% of the fic, I realized I had turned it into a McSpirk fic.

Oops.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“You want me to what?

Spock stands stiffly with his hands behind his back. Jim looks much more relaxed–he’s leaning over McCoy where he sits with his feet kicked up onto his office desk. The doctor’s arms are crossed, but his posture is more relaxed than defensive.

“It’s a low-pressure ask, Bones.” Jim smiles. Leans down a little closer. “Just tell us no, and we’ll back off.”

“I didn’t say no. Did I?” McCoy sighs. He kicks his feet back onto the floor and leans forward. “But I just wanna make sure I have this right.”

Jim straightens and shrugs his shoulders. “I think it’s pretty straightforward, what we’re asking.”

“You wanna fuck me–” McCoy nods towards Jim– “and you wanna watch?” His gaze turns towards Spock, his eyebrow raised.

“If that is amenable to you,” Spock says, as expressionlessly as he can manage.

McCoy rolls his eyes. “Amenable he says.”

“It is something Jim and I have done numerous times before.”

“And you enjoy it?”

Spock opens his mouth, ready to argue for the sake of arguing–to insist that enjoyment isn’t Vulcan and he does no such thing. But he knows the weight his words will carry, and he opts for the truth instead. “Immensely.”

“Hm,” McCoy says in response.

“Really, Bones. If you don’t want to–”

“Why me?”

Spock looks at Jim, and Jim looks at McCoy, and McCoy crosses his arms again. It’s a little more defensive this time. It makes sense, for all they know about the doctor. For how he tries to keep himself from being too exposed.

For anyone else, Spock can imagine how this would go. Jim would put on his easy smile, and he’d say something about how charming and attractive McCoy is.

But this isn’t just anyone. Instead of putting on a show, Jim lets his grin soften into something more genuine. “Because, Bones. You’re the whole package, sure. You’re quick, and you’re smart, and you’re handsome. But more than that, Spock and I trust you in a way we don’t trust anyone else. We can be more vulnerable with you. And we know we can have a good time with you.”

McCoy eyes Jim with suspicion, but the look quickly melts away. There’s almost a smile curved on his lips, like he heard everything Jim said and it went straight to his head. “You mean all that?”

“Of course I do. I’m not in the habit of lying to the people I care about the most.”

McCoy sighs. He tilts his head to one side, then the other, and chews at his cheek. The silence is deafening on Spock’s ears.

“Fine,” McCoy says finally, “I’m in.”

Spock can’t help but blink his surprise. Jim seems more than a little taken aback, too. “Really? Just like that?”

McCoy huffs. “Yes, really. You're actin’ like you didn't expect me to agree at all.”

“If I am being honest, Doctor,” Spock says with an eyebrow raised, “I didn't.”

McCoy smirks. “I may be old, Spock, but I'm not boring. It sounds like a great chance to relieve some stress. Besides,” he shrugs, “I've always enjoyed being watched.”

Jim flashes a wide and wobbly grin. “Perfect. An ideal scenario for all parties, then.” He leans down and presses his lips to McCoy’s, at the perfect angle for Spock to see. McCoy melts into the kiss eagerly, and even that's enough to make Spock's pulse jump for a split second.

Jim pulls away, but McCoy reaches up to keep a hand resting on the back of his neck.

“What do you think, Bones? Does tonight work for your schedule?”

He throws a smug glance in Spock's direction before matching Jim's smile. “‘I’ll make it work. There's no way I'd miss it.”

The day passes slowly, but soon enough, Spock finds himself in the captain’s quarters. He sits in a chair next to the bed and watches as Jim paces. Spock isn’t sure if it’s from nerves or simply Jim’s inability to sit still. He’s already fiddled with everything in the room–straightened the sheet on the bed, then the pillow, then set out two glasses on the desk.

Finally, there’s a buzz at the door. Jim straightens and throws Spock a quick smile. Spock moves to stand by the partition that separates the bedroom from the rest of the living space as the door slides open.

“Bones.” Jim’s voice is warm. Spock can’t see his face, but he’s intimately familiar with the soft expression he knows Jim is giving the doctor. “Come on in.”

Jim steps aside, and McCoy enters the room. He scans around the room, and his eyes linger on Spock for just a moment. “Spock.”

Spock eyes him, but he makes no effort to respond. He doesn’t need to–Jim steps in first.

“Oh, don’t worry about him, Bones.” He rests a hand on McCoy’s shoulder and leads him towards the extra chair by the desk. “This isn’t about him–it’s about us. You and me. Have a seat.”

McCoy chuckles as he sinks into the chair. “So that’s how it is, huh?”

Spock watches as Jim fills both glasses generously with Saurian brandy, pushes one towards McCoy, then sits down with a smile at the other side of the desk.

It’s already different from when they’ve done this before. Immediately, Jim is more comfortable. More relaxed. It must be the familiarity of McCoy, Spock decides. Instead of finding a stranger in a planetside bar on shore leave.

A moment of silence passes, but it isn’t uncomfortable. Both McCoy and Jim sip at their drinks and watch each other closely. Even from this distance, Spock can see the heat in Jim’s eyes.

“So what exactly does it for him?” McCoy finally breaks the silence, leaning back in his chair and kicking his feet onto the desk. Spock can’t see his face but can imagine the sly smile there.

Jim hums. “It’s about my pleasure. About me getting things that I can’t get from him.”

“Hm.” McCoy swirls his drink. There’s a thrill in being talked about like he isn’t there. Spock’s heart rate spikes. “He likes knowing all your needs are being met.”

“Precisely.”

“Well, in that case I can certainly provide.” McCoy kicks one foot over the other. “Did you ever tell him about the time we spent together when we first met?”

Jim’s smile widens. Glows brighter. “Of course I did. That was one of our reasons for asking you in the first place. I’ve missed you.”

“I’m sure you did, because I can guarantee there are things I can do for you that that pointy-eared bastard can’t.”

Spock feels a shot of heat down his spine. Jim’s eyes flicker to meet his, just for a moment as he looks for confirmation, and then his smile turns devious.

“Is that so?” Jim sets down his drink. As he walks around the desk to be closer to McCoy, he’s the picture of control. It’s one of the countless things that made Spock fall for him in the first place–the way Captaincy suits him, down to his very core. He radiates confidence and charm as he leans over McCoy and brushes a finger along his jaw. “And tell me, Doctor. What exactly can you provide that he can’t?”

McCoy lifts his boots off the desk. He sets down his drink and uses the momentum to lean just slightly closer to Jim. “A mouth that’s warm and wet, for one. A tongue that isn’t so rough.”

Jim bends down and closes the distance. Spock’s breath catches as the two of them kiss, slow and unhurried. Jim’s hand moves to cup McCoy’s jaw, and McCoy reaches to grasp at Jim’s hip.

It’s McCoy that pulls away first. Jim’s chest rises and falls just slightly, as if a simple kiss were enough to steal the breath from his lungs.

“C’mon, Jim.” McCoy’s voice is smooth and low, and Spock wishes he could see his face–see the way his pupils are dilated, or the way he must be grinning. “Don’t you wanna see what that mouth of mine can really do?”

“You act as if I could have forgotten.” Jim ducks his head and laughs. “But a reminder certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

They kiss again. It’s just as unrushed, like Jim really is taking his time exploring the differences of a human mouth. McCoy’s hand slips from Jim’s hip and down his front to cup Jim’s groin. Jim rocks into the touch and gasps against McCoy’s lips.

McCoy pushes Jim lightly, just enough that he takes a step back. It gives McCoy enough space to slip off the chair and onto his knees.

From where he stands, Spock can see the way Jim’s eyes are already dark with arousal.

Jim settles a hand on McCoy’s head, twisting his fingers lightly through his hair. McCoy pulls Jim’s pants and briefs down to his knees. Spock’s breath catches as he realizes that Jim is already half-hard, just from the little that they’ve done.

McCoy wraps a hand loosely around him. He strokes a few times, and Jim’s cock stands up a little straighter.

“Lemme show you what you’ve been missing out on,” McCoy purrs. He licks a long stripe up Jim’s shaft, then swirls his tongue around the head. Then, as Jim shivers, McCoy takes the tip into his mouth.

“Bones–” Jim lets out a quiet groan. He tries to rock himself deeper, but a steady hand on his hip holds him in place.

Spock takes a step to the side, eager for a better view. McCoy’s eyes flick towards him, and he smiles around the cock in his mouth before taking more of it in. Already, Spock can feel the arousal burning in his gut. Already, he can feel his sheath growing slick.

McCoy bobs his head and takes the rest of Jim’s cock down his throat. Spock watches his throat bob as he swallows around it. Jim throws his head back, and his hand tightens in McCoy’s hair.

“So good, Bones. You feel so good.”

McCoy hums in response, and it’s enough to cause another hitch in Jim’s breath.

“You were right–your mouth feels incredible,” Jim babbles. “Like you were made for me.”

McCoy hums again. He pulls off, then pushes forward to take Jim all the way. Jim reaches over with his free hand to grasp at the edge of the desk and steady himself.

There’s a few more moments of that–of Spock watching as McCoy slides his lips along Jim’s shaft, of Jim gasping in pleasure. McCoy picks up speed, and his head moves faster and faster, and he reaches up to fondle Jim’s balls as he sucks.

Spock can see the way Jim’s body is tensing, and he imagines how good he must feel. How muddled his thoughts must be, if he’s not even babbling anymore. All from McCoy’s mouth.

“Feels so good, Bones,” Jim says again, his eyes half-lidded and fully clouded. “Getting close. Getting–”

McCoy hums. He takes Jim’s cock all the way down his throat one more time, then slides off completely.

Jim trembles, and McCoy kisses along his length. The hand tightens and untightens in his hair.

“Well, Jim?” There’s a pleased smile on McCoy’s face, even as his voice is a little rougher than usual. “How did that compare?”

“Compare?” The word comes out as a breath. Spock can tell that Jim is fighting through the loss of sensation. Trying to regain his senses.

McCoy reaches up again and begins rubbing circles along the head of Jim’s cock with his thumb. “Yeah. To Spock. I’m better, aren’t I?”

Color rises to Spock’s cheeks. Jim’s eyes snap to him, looking for direction. Confirmation.

This is a new direction for them. Usually, Jim’s partners for the evening pay Spock no mind at all–they don’t so much as glance in his direction. Jim praises them and dotes on them, but that’s as far as the talk usually goes.

But the other partners Jim has had don’t know Spock like McCoy does.

Spock licks his lips. Nods.

The hesitation vanishes from Jim’s eyes, and he looks down at McCoy with a breathy smile. “Why, Bones, you said it yourself–you offer things Spock can’t. It’s not even a competition.”

“Biological differences aside–” McCoy keeps stroking Jim gently– “I’m sure I’m more skilled than him, too. Aren’t I?”

Jim’s hips twitch with every soft touch. The hand in McCoy’s hair swipes down to rest on his cheek. He looks down at him with the haze of pleasure in his eyes. “I’d say so. Spock has never made me feel quite like that.”

The degradation, Jim’s obvious enjoyment–it’s too much. Spock quickly covers his mouth to stifle a moan.

It doesn’t go unnoticed. McCoy’s gaze lingers on him for a split second, and Spock could swear his lips curl up in another smug smile. But then his eyes are back on Jim, and Spock is forgotten again. It just makes the arousal compound further.

“I could do this all night,” McCoy drawls. His thumb is still brushing along Jim’s cock, and Jim is barely keeping himself contained. “But I thought you said you wanted to fuck me. And I’d hate for you to miss out on that.”

Jim chuckles. He moves his hand under McCoy’s chin and tilts it up. “Then perhaps we should move things to the bed."

He grabs McCoy’s hand and hoists him up, then pulls their faces closer. The patience from earlier has vanished entirely–this time, their kiss is desperate and eager. Spock commits each movement to memory as they begin to undress. Jim’s hands snake under McCoy’s shirt and tug it roughly over his head. McCoy shoves Jim’s pants down the rest of the way and pulls them most of the way off, then pushes Jim against the desk to rip off his boots. The whole time, their mouths are only apart when there’s fabric between them.

As soon as they’re stripped down, Jim begins to lead McCoy towards the bed. The movements are clumsy half-stumbles across the small space, and Spock has to step back to avoid them. Jim pushes McCoy onto the mattress, then crawls on top of him.

Spock circles them as he makes his way over to the chair by the bed. He takes the chance to look at them closely–the way Jim is dripping precome onto McCoy’s stomach, the way they’re both equally hard. As he sinks into the chair, he realizes his briefs are damp with how wet he’s gotten.

McCoy pulls Jim’s hips closer, then wraps a single hand around both their cocks. Spock can hear Jim’s breath catch as McCoy begins to stroke.

“Feels good, Jim, doesn’t it?” McCoy is half-whispering in Jim’s ear. “I can make you feel all sorts of ways. Do all sorts of things to you to make you feel good–things Spock wouldn’t even know to consider.”

Both Jim and Spock jerk their hips. Spock’s fingers dig into the arm of his chair.

Jim presses sloppy kisses into the crook of McCoy’s neck. “Like what, Bones? What can you offer that Spock can’t?”

“A bigger dick,” McCoy laughs breathily. He rolls his hips, and his cock rubs against Jim’s in a way that makes him moan. “And everything I can do with it.”

The heat burns brighter in Spock’s core, and he can’t take it any longer. Roughly, he shoves his pants and briefs down to his thighs. Two fingers slip between the folds of his sheath, and he rubs them against the head of his lok as it begins to push outward. Already, he’s sensitive enough that it sends a shiver through him.

With his fingers stroking tight circles, Spock focuses back on Jim and McCoy with hazy eyes.

“Do you see that, Bones?” Jim rolls his hips, chasing any sensation he can get. His hair is tousled from where he’s run his hands through it. “He usually waits until my paramour for the evening has left before touching himself.”

“It’s because he knows I’m making you feel better than he ever could,” McCoy grins. “He knows he’s been outdone.”

Jim just hums, leaning down to kiss McCoy one more time before pulling away. He bends over, opens a compartment under the bed, and pulls out a bottle of lube. Before moving to lean over McCoy from the side, he coats his fingers generously.

Spock has the perfect view as Jim spreads McCoy’s legs apart and circles around his rim.

“You’ve been so good for me, Bones.” Jim pushes the first finger in. Pumps it gently. “I can’t wait to feel you.”

By now, his lok has emerged enough that Spock can stroke along the shaft.

“You’ve already made me feel so good,” Jim continues as he slips in a second finger, “And I know it’s only going to get better.”

McCoy rocks against the fingers, and it’s clear it’s not doing nearly enough. “I’m tellin’ you, Jim. You missed out by not coming to me sooner.”

“I think you’re right.” Jim bends down and kisses him. Their tongues trace sloppily along each other’s mouths. “I think we’ll have to make up for lost time.”

There’s a split second of hesitation before McCoy responds. “You mean you’d wanna keep doing this?”

Spock thinks about it. About McCoy, who knows exactly what makes both of them tick. Who has gotten Spock so aroused that he can’t think straight.

Jim presses in a third finger, then turns to catch Spock’s eye. “Well, Bones. You’re the best I’ve ever had, aren’t you? Do you really think I’d give that up again?”

Spock pumps his hand along his now fully-exposed lok. He can feel the color in his cheeks.

Jim, satisfied with the response, turns back to McCoy. “Do you think you’re ready for me?”

McCoy nods. “I can handle you, Jim. C’mon and fill me up already.”

Jim wastes no time. He grabs the lube again and slicks up his own cock, turned to the perfect angle for Spock to see just how hard and aching he is. Then, he’s climbing back onto the bed and moving to rest McCoy’s feet on his shoulders.

Wordlessly, Spock stands to get a better look. He keeps stroking himself as he steps to the side on wobbly legs. His free hand reaches to grasp the arm of the chair to keep himself steady.

Jim pushes into McCoy, and moans from all three of them echo through the room. Spock already feels dangerously close; the mound of fur around his sheath is soaked, and his lok twitches in his hand.

“Oh, Bones--” Jim rolls his hips, and his fingers tighten against McCoy’s thighs. He repeats the motion, over and over, and it’s clear that it’s taking some restraint to not pound into McCoy relentlessly.

McCoy moans louder with each thrust; his gaze flickers towards Spock, and Spock sees another flash of smug pride before his head falls to look at Jim. “How’s it feel, Jim?”

Jim nods. Pushes deeper. “Good. You feel so good.”

McCoy leans into the thrust, his hips and cock twitching. “Still feel like I was made for you, right?”

“Yes,” Jim breathes.

“My ass feels better than Spock’s pussy, doesn’t it?”

This time, Jim doesn’t even throw Spock a glance–he nods without hesitation, with eyes only for McCoy. “Yes.”

Spock has to tighten a hand around the base of his lok to keep himself from coming too soon.

Jim’s hips pick up speed. He moves faster and faster, and each thrust pushes another quiet huff from between his lips. His eyes are distant. Clouded with pleasure.

Spock traces along his features and commits the sight to memory.

“Jim,” McCoy gasps. His cock bobs as Jim hits him deep. “Please.”

Jim nods. He moves a hand from McCoy’s thigh and reaches around to take McCoy’s cock instead. After taking a quick second to gather the precome from the tip onto his thumb, Jim begins to stroke him in time with his hips.

“So good, Bones. So perfect.” Jim’s movements are losing their stability. Each roll of his hips is more desperate than the last. “Want you to feel good, too.”

Spock’s lok aches. Throbs. He’s desperate, too–desperate for Jim to feel good, desperate to watch him come. He keeps his own strokes slower and looser. Just enough to keep himself on the edge.

McCoy’s hands twist in the sheets. Spock can see how close he’s getting from the way his face is twisting and his back is arching. “Yes,” McCoy pants, “Yes, Jim, God–

With a choked sound, his body tenses. He bucks into Jim’s hand, which pushes Jim’s cock deeper inside him. Come shoots onto McCoy’s stomach and drips onto Jim’s fingers. Jim’s hand keeps pumping even as his hips move erratically.

Spock allows his own hand to tighten, and he strokes his lok firmly. As Jim begins to lose control, Spock works to gather speed. He’s half-leaned forward, with his free hand still gripping the arm of the chair. Heat curls in his gut, tight and sharp.

And then Jim moans, burying himself as deep as he can. His fingers and hips twitch, and his eyes roll back in his head as his head tilts back.

It all shoots straight through Spock to his core. The heat in his gut floods his veins, and he comes only moments after Jim. It’s forceful enough to pull a gasp from him, and he nearly doubles over completely. Jim’s eyes flash over to him. He’s the picture of radiance, with his hair a mess and his pupils blown. His open lips quirk into a smile, and Spock briefly worries that his knees are going to give out beneath him.

The tension drains from both Jim and McCoy. McCoy’s body goes limp, and Jim lowers his legs one by one back onto the bed. He then collapses onto the mattress, so he and McCoy are laying side by side.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the ragged rhythm of the three of them breathing. Spock pulls himself on shaking arms back towards his chair and half-collapses back into it.

Jim shifts, rolling on his side to face McCoy and allowing a hand to fall over his chest. It rises and falls with each of McCoy’s breaths.

“Just gimme a second,” McCoy pants.

Jim hums. A heavy hand begins tracing circles in the center of McCoy’s chest. “Take your time.”

Spock focuses on slowing his breathing. His heart rate. His blood feels thick with satisfaction.

“Alright.” McCoy pushes himself onto shaking elbows. He twists and throws his legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll get out of your hair, then.”

Jim’s hand shoots out and wraps around McCoy’s thin wrist. McCoy tenses and tries to pull away, but Jim’s grasp remains firm. Spock can’t see Jim’s face, but he’s sure his expression mirrors his own–one of confusion and rejection.

“What do you mean?” Jim whispers hoarsely.

McCoy blinks. “Well, I did what you asked me to do. I figured you and Spock have a routine after all this, and I should leave you to it.”

While McCoy tries not to let anything slip through, Spock can hear the rejection and sadness in his voice. Jim must hear it, too, because when he responds, he says, “Do you want to leave, Bones?”

McCoy’s mouth opens, then snaps shut. Spock can see the conflict on his face, and he thinks again of what they know of the doctor–that he doesn’t like to make himself vulnerable.

“Jim, I don’t–”

“I meant what I said, you know.” Jim pulls on McCoy’s arm, and McCoy falls back onto the bed. “About doing this all again.”

“That wasn’t just a heat of the moment thing?”

Spock can feel McCoy’s hesitation, even without physical contact.

“Of course not.” Spock can imagine Jim flashing that same easy grin from earlier in the day. His thumb strokes along McCoy’s wrist bone. “I wouldn’t have said something like that if I hadn’t meant it.”

McCoy stares at Jim for a long time, as if trying to decipher the words he’s saying. Then, he catches sight of Spock, and he startles as if he’d forgotten he was there at all. “And you’re okay with this?”

Spock nods calmly. “I would have spoken up by now if I were not.”

McCoy blinks. Swallows. He turns to look down at the pillow instead of either of the faces staring at him. “Why me, really?”

Jim sits, pushing himself up on one arm. The other strokes along McCoy’s hand. “It’s like I said earlier, Bones. You’re the whole package. Smart, charismatic, handsome–”

“Alright, you don’t need to lay it on so thick–”

“And because you’re our friend.” Jim tilts his head. “Maybe more, if you’d like.”

McCoy’s mouth falls open. Once again, his eyes fall towards Spock–looking for confirmation, just as Jim had done before. Spock offers a short nod.

McCoy’s eyes grow wide, but it’s quickly replaced with a devilish expression. He grins, then leans over to whisper in Jim’s ear.

“Alright, but next time I’m gonna give you something that I know Spock isn’t giving you.”

It’s a stage whisper. Even without his superior Vulcan hearing, Spock would be able to hear it loud and clear. He licks his lips. Jim’s fingers stall, and he waits.

“Next time,” McCoy purrs, smiling against Jim’s flushed shin, “I’m gonna be the one fucking you.

Notes:

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