Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Spock, you amorous ass, stop that! I’m trying to concentrate here!”

“I thought you liked it when I blew in your ear.”

“Not when I’m trying to count stitches,” McCoy mumbled abstractly as he returned to the knitting needles in his hands.

Spock sat down and watched McCoy knit for a few moments. “I thought you did not like it when I distracted you when you were trying to thread a needle.”

“That, too!” McCoy snapped. “That little eye of the needle is difficult to hit.”

“Perhaps you could give me some sympathy then when I cannot quite reach the target that you wish to have struck so repeatedly in you.”

McCoy stopped, turned slowly, and stared at Spock with a look of incredulity on his face. “Did you just say something really vulgar, Vulcan?!”

Spock gave him a placid look. “Perhaps. Were you thinking of your prostate and my inability to massage it the way you wish?”

“Well, yeah! It's THERE! I don't know how you can keep missing it! It's not like it's a leg that can move around on its own! It's kinda in the path, you know!"

"I suppose I am simply lost in the wonder of you."

"Don't give me that romantic hogwash! You're avoiding IT in your travels! And that pisses me off!"

"But is it not special when I do hit it?" Spock asked with a sly smile. "And proceed to massage it? Do you not sigh then?"

"Well, yeah," McCoy had to admit with his own sly smile, then he forced himself to replace it with a frown." But I still think you are deliberating holding back sometimes!”

“Why would I want to hold something like that back, Leonard, when I know what hitting your prostate does to you? Do I not realize that it sets off a sexual frenzy in you? It would be the same thing as a yearling calf walking into the Amazon River and expecting not to have its bones picked clean by the native piranha in a matter of moments. Why is the calf so surprised that it is eaten alive? I believe that you would express it something to the effect that ‘piranha gotta do what piranha gotta do.’ In either case, it is a classic example of cause and effect. You and the yearling calf are expecting too much and should not be surprised or disappointed by a different outcome.”

“You’re reaching with your analogy.“

“I believed that it was quite apropos,“ Spock retorted and crossed his arms in a snit.

McCoy returned to his project. “Well, if you are going to get all pissy about it, go outside and play!”

Spock uncrossed his arms. “Leonard, may I remind you that, at the present moment, the Enterprise is in deep space and will be for some time to come?”

“Don’t need reminding,” McCoy mumbled, distracted as he worked. “I hadn’t forgotten. Not apt to. Don’t like space, deep or otherwise.”

With a sigh, Spock sat back in his chair and waited patiently. And quietly.

A few moments later McCoy glanced up through his eyebrows. If he’d been wearing glasses, he would have been looking over the top rim of them.

“Are you still here?!”

“We are still in deep space.”

“Details,” McCoy muttered and looked back at his work. Then he set it down. “What IS your problem? In or out, just don‘t sit there.”

“My premise, exactly.“

McCoy frowned. “Eh?“

“In or out.“

“Still not making sense, Vulcan. You’ve either had too much chocolate, or not enough.“

“There is no such thing as too much chocolate, Leonard,“ Spock said with a smile.

McCoy looked greatly pained and held up his hand. “If chocolate has any bearing on your original story, please, continue and enlighten me further. If not, lose the chocolate!“

“Leonard, I could never lose anything that gives me so much pleasure. Why, I would just as soon lose you, and that is not about to happen.”

McCoy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please. I'm begging you. Before the Enterprise reaches the other side of this galaxy. TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND!”

"Well, it does not really involve my mind, Leonard."

McCoy frowned. "Something is telling me I'm not going to like hearing what you're about to say."

"Now, Leonard, it is not really that bad. In fact, it is as natural as sunshine on a fine spring day."

"Something also tells me that this doesn't involve all sunshine and fine spring days, either."

"You are such a skeptic, Leonard."

"I have good reason to be skeptical, and I'm looking right at it! Okay, spit it out! Get the suspense over!"

Spock gave McCoy a smug look that in some circles could almost be construed as coy. “We have not had sexual intercourse in six hours and nine point seventeen minutes, Leonard.”

“Let’s go back to the chocolate discussion.”

“But it has been so long since we did anything--”

“And if you don’t shut up about it, it will be SIXTEEN hours and some odd minutes until we have sexual intercourse again!”

“Eleven point twenty-one--”

“Yeah, yeah!” He glared at Spock. “What are you? In some sort of hyper drive? I thought you said you wouldn‘t be experiencing pon farr for awhile.”

“There are still times when I am almost continually stimulated and needing my mate. This is one of those times.”

“I wasn’t aware that we were having a marathon here, Vulcan!” He went back to what he was doing. “Although my asshole does feel like something’s been running through it at a dead gallop, and it wasn’t no damn river of love, either!”

“Now, Leonard,” Spock confided in his most cajoling, wheedling voice. “I told you that I sometimes have periods in which I will have special needs.”

“I think you’re just horny as hell and are just trying to make it sound like it‘s classier than what it is.”

“They are very special needs.”

“Well, I have needs, too! Eating. Drinking. Sleeping.” He paused in his labors to glare at Spock. “Taking a dump!”

“Now, Leonard, as I explained to you before, I did not realize that you were having any particular need in that respect. It was, actually, more inconvenient for me, and certainly much messier for a fastidious person such as myself. And the exposure to your contaminants could have been injurious to my health.”

“What did you expect?! It was first thing in the morning! Most Earthlings take dumps first thing in the morning! I would’ve figured that Vulcans would’ve established that habit a long time ago for themselves for convenience sake, if for nothing else! Being Vulcan, you should admire the efficiency of that practice! Get that nasty chore out of the way in the morning while you‘re still half asleep. Then, when you‘re fully awake, you can concentrate on more enjoyable things, like breakfast.”

“I do admire the logic behind the practice.”

“Then why were you coming at me that morning, all oiled up and set for action, when I was still asleep?!”

“You were so cute and cuddly lying there, your muscles all relaxed, your mouth open slightly and so kissable. How could I ignore something as appealing as that?” The Vulcan’s eyes darkened with remembered passion. “Or as vulnerable?”

“Damn straight I was vulnerable! I went to sleep with a considerate lover. I woke up with my ass full of green shit wanting in and brown shit wanting out! That’s a helluva wake up call! I didn’t know whether to fish or cut bait!“

Spock looked confused. “Fish or cut bait? Why are you suddenly discussing fishing? That is very disconcerting, Leonard. I failed to notice the transition. Would you mind explaining?”

“Never mind! Forget the fishing! Back to my other problem with my corked up ass and my bowels in an uproar! It‘s a wonder I didn‘t explode! For a moment I thought I was. Rudest damn alarm clock I‘ve ever come across. Sometimes I get antsy at five-thirty at night because of it. And it‘s not caused by the evening news, either!”

“But you have to admit that you did have a marvelous orgasm, Leonard.”

“Which one?! I thought I was going to explode forever! I felt like I was part of the expanding Milky Way! Or a meteor shower!”

“Or a Roman candle?” Spock asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Now you’re just bragging.” His eyes got a glassy look to them. “Well, yeah, I suppose that Roman candles would cover it.” He frowned at Spock. “Notice I put that in the plural. Ain‘t no way only one firecracker could do that much damage.”

“Oh, Leonard, you so do express your satisfaction so nicely.”

“Don’t let it go to your head!” He sighed deeply. “I’m just stating facts.” He frowned. “We won’t even mention the bedding that we had to replace. No washer could’ve handled that mess. Not even a commercial one at a motel after a convention for used car salesmen. Because everyone knows what kind of b.s. they can put out.”

“You need never worry about constipation problems, Leonard. I believe that I have an efficient enema with me at all times in case you ever have problems. And I will be only too glad to administer it.”

“Damn Vulcan! You should’ve gotten kidney infection from that early morning poke! Would’ve served you right, too!” he snarled at Spock. “It was a helluva way to start the day! Everything was downhill from there! What could have possibly topped that?!”

“I have told you that there are still times, excluding pon farr, when I have these special needs. And since you are my mate, I wish to share that need with you exclusively. It is not just ‘poking,’ as you so charmingly call it, but love. I want to make physical love to you because I am mated to you. I am yours exclusively.” His dark eyes got a hard, lustful look in them, and his mouth assumed one tense line. “And you are mine.”

“Yeah, and you know what my comment to all of that was, don’t you?! Especially after we went through one of those periods when I was ‘yours exclusively?!’ Go find yourself a tree with a nice, tight knothole in it about so high and screw IT for awhile! And give my poor asshole a chance to rest up and recuperate.”

“A wooden knothole would not respond as you do, Leonard. I do need feedback to perform, and you provide that so well. You do tend to set yourself on fire during those periods. It is as if you combust. It is a marvel to observe. And experience. I do not know if I can match your passion, let alone be in charge as I should be. After all, I am the one with the operational penis in those encounters. But you do inspire me. Your performance makes me try harder. For your prostate, and for everything else.”

“Don’t look now, Vulcan, but you do that to me, too,” McCoy grumbled, finally conceding to the truth. “You, and those damn magic fingers of yours!”

“I am rather proud of my hands,” Spock said with pride as he inspected them. “My upper appendages do service me well.”

“They service me well, too. I‘m a fan of those arms, also.” McCoy raised an eyebrow in appreciation. “And other parts of you. Especially the ones the sun doesn‘t hit too often, if you‘re wanting that cleared up about body parts.”

“Ah, you are getting in the proper mood for lovemaking.”

“I don’t have to be horny as hell to appreciate something!” McCoy snorted. “But I can’t deny the truth. You are a little love machine, and I think you know it!”

“Oh, Leonard, are you certain that Earthlings do not have periods of pon farr, also? But do they not come around more frequently for Earthlings? Say, every time the sun goes down?”

“Yes, you are right about that. Darkness is generally more the time that we Earthlings think of sex and doing bedroom things. But we can get our juices going sooner or at any time, if we are so inspired.” He looked Spock up and down. "I do believe I feel inspiration coming on."

“It is rather awesome to witness, especially when you initiate our lovemaking.” He frowned slightly, which was odd for Spock. McCoy was the one who tended to frown and rant in their relationship. "I do not always know when that is, though. Your speech is so scattered by your puzzling idioms, that your meaning is not obvious to me. It would be prudent if you devised a clear signal for your needs." Spock frowned. "However, I do not believe that your grabbing my penis without warning is the most romantic answer, either."

"It does make my intentions clear, though, doesn't it?!"

Spock sighed and rolled his eyes. "That it does. Although I fear that some day I will swallow my tongue when you do that."

McCoy frowned. "Swallow your tongue? That's a strange reaction."

"When you grab me, I suck my breath in very sharply. Everything tends to hurtle downward to that area at an alarming speed. Blood. Focus. Tongue. My attention is completely centered there at a moment's notice." He thought about it a second. "A split second, in fact. Really, Leonard, you must find a different signal. Sometime you might grab me too hard in your passion, and I will not be able to perform. And that will sadden both of us."

McCoy looked smug. “Who knows? Maybe I’m working on something right now that will be a help to us. Our relationship is important to me, too, you know.”

Spock had never really thought of the knitted oblong in McCoy‘s lap as having a purpose. He thought it was just something to keep McCoy's hands busy and away from Spock's penis. Now Spock wondered about it. “What are you knitting anyway, Leonard?”

“Something for you. It‘s a surprise.”

“Really?” Spock said with interest. “What is it?”

“Well, now, if I told you that, then it wouldn’t be a surprise now, would it?”

Spock studied the pile of knitted material in McCoy’s lap. “It appears to be an article referred to as a baby blanket. It is the right size for one.” He looked up with a satisfied smile. “Are you trying to tell me something, Leonard? Will a little one be joining us soon?“

“If I could convince you of that, I’d have to send you back to take high school biology over again,“ McCoy muttered.

“Well, then, not a baby blanket, but something that size.“ He studied it. “A lap robe. Am I correct?”

“Excellent observational powers. It could be used for that purpose. What else do you observe?”

“It is an off-white color. And measures about eighteen inches by eighteen inches.”

“Congratulations! You’ll never need a ruler when you have to measure something, that’s for certain.”

“As to its purpose. Hmm. A lap robe to protect you. It could serve the same purpose as an apron, except there is no way to hold it around your waist.”

“Not yet. I could attach ties.”

Spock felt disappointed. “But I do not cook. And you have aprons already.”

“I didn’t say it was an apron.”

“Then why did you lead me down a false trail?”

“You took off at breakneck speed down that path, I didn’t spur you any.”

“Hmm. Not an apron. But it could be used on the lap.” He looked up with suspicion. “Leonard, are we getting a cat?”

“A cat?” McCoy asked, truly puzzled.

Spock‘s face cleared. “Or a dog? If so, I have a preference for a chow mix. They are a magnificent breed. I would not want one of those little yappy dogs, though. I fear I would step on it. Or sit on it.”

“How in the hell did we get on dog breeds?! No, we are not getting a pet! Wrong path! Way, way wrong path!”

“Leonard, you must help me here. You know that I am by nature curious.”

“Yes,” McCoy answered smugly. “I know that you are curious.” Bust a gut curious, McCoy thought and tried not to let the smile he was feeling show on his lips. Curious to the point of forgetting about sex.

“Come on, Leonard, do not be a tease.”

McCoy folded his hands with the knitting into his lap.

“Okay. You know you say that you cannot read me about when I am in the mood to have sex.”

“Oh, yes, that is true.”

“Well, how about this. How about if I just plain came out and told you sometimes? Without making an unannounced grab at your penis?”

“That would be wonderful, Leonard!” Then Spock looked skeptical. “How?”

“How about when you walked into our quarters and you couldn’t find me in the front rooms, so you came into our bedroom. And there I was, lying on my stomach, all naked, except for this piece of knitting draped over my hips?”

“It would be a beautiful picture to have many daydreams over and solitary sexual experiences with, but how would I know if you were simply preparing to use the sunlamp and did not for some reason wish to tan your hip area? How would I know if I was going to be invited into your body or would have to stay out?”

McCoy shook out the lap robe and held it up. It was plain white. How did McCoy believe that plain white piece of material would be of any help?

"Beautiful handiwork, but no help, I fear."

McCoy looked wise. "Ah, but if I was in the mood, this is what you would see." Then McCoy turned the robe so Spock could read the one word on the other side written in huge black letters.

IN.

Spock grinned. “Oh, Leonard, you are so good to me.”

“Damn straight. Now, do you want to go through the charade of testing it out, or do you want to get right to it?”

“You mean--” Spock said with interest.

“Okay, say I’m interested. Your call. In or out, Vulcan! Make up your mind!”

“I believe that was my original thesis, Doctor.”

“Don’t play hard to get now!“ McCoy frowned. “It’s been almost seven hours, Vulcan!”

“To be precise, it has been--”

“Spock!”

“Maybe we can forgo the exact time. Now, do you wish to undress yourself or shall I do it?”

“Well, since we’re not out to set any speed records here, let’s do it for each other. That would be fun.” He glanced down at Spock’s nether regions. “You seemed to have lost interest, anyway, and will have to be stimulated again.”

Spock sighed. “Your lengthy discussion seemed to have caused that reaction in me. Quite a turn off, to put it in layman‘s language.”

“That’s one of my pesky idioms, but let’s not get into that now. Tell you what. To add a little interest as we undress each other, let’s do it by touch only.”

Spock‘s eyes lit up. “You mean--”

“That’s right. We’ll close our eyes. Let our hands be our guides. If we happen to have difficulties with clothing, well.” He shrugged. “So be it.” He noticed Spock’s nether regions begin to stir with interest.

“Oh, Leonard, you have such good ideas! My hands are tingling to get on your flesh!”

And that's not the only thing tingling on you, Vulcan, in case you haven't noticed. “A lot less talk and a little more action, Vulcan!”

“Is that one of your idioms, Leonard?”

“No. It’s a command! Come to think of it, I have only one word for you.”

“And what is that, Leonard?” Spock asked as he closed his eyes and reached for his Earthling.

McCoy closed his eyes and felt the magic hands of his Vulcan land on his chest and begin to fumble with his clothing.

McCoy grinned. What else would be more appropriate to say?!

“In!”