NEW ST: TOS
“Blood Fever”
By Pet Leopard
RATING: NC-17
K/S/Mc
Disclaimer: Let’s not ruffle any feathers at Paramount. This is all for fun, not profit.
Timeline: This story takes place after the Season Two Episode, “Amok Time”

BLOOD FEVER

PART 1

“Live Long and Prosper, Spock.” The high priestess T’Pau raised her hand in the form of the proper Vulcan salute.

“I shall do neither,” came the response. His voice maintained its’ threshold of resolve on the surface, but down below, inside the inner self, was the soul of the a very lost man. A man who was torn apart. “I have killed my captain and my friend.” He started to say something else, but then stopped himself just before speaking. He took out his communicator. The familiar click and buzz manifested itself.

“Scott here,” came the response.

Spock took a breath, as though his speech was somewhat labored.

“Mr. Scott, Spock here. One to beam up. “ He bowed his head respectfully to T’Pau, just before the transporter beam engulfed him.

*  *  *

The beam-up was successful, but the pale, sweaty figure that was now facing transporter Chief Kyle caused the young Lieutenant a great deal of concern.

Spock nearly collapsed as he stumbled off of the platform. Kyle suspected that perhaps the Vulcan was suffering from transporter sickness.

“Mr. Spock, are you okay?” the concerned Kyle asked.

“Stay away from me, Mr. Kyle!” came the response of the angry Vulcan.

The foolish young man drew closer. “Do you need medical attention, sir? I could contact Doc-”

Unfortunately, Mr. Kyle never had a chance to finish his sentence. Spock flung him aside, knocking him to the ground.

“I said ‘Stay Away’!” he growled.

The sick Vulcan felt himself stumbling as he made his way to his quarters. He knew that he was dying, but he didn‘t care. Shakily, he opened the door to his cabin by punching in his personal lock code. He hardly ever did this, since this meant that the sliding door would be locked from the outside when the door closed and reset itself. Rarely did Spock ever keep his door locked, but he felt he had to do so now. He wanted to die alone. If he could not die in the arms of the one he loved, dying alone would be his choice.

He felt the fever overtaking him. He did not know whether his eyes were opened or closed as he collapsed on his cot. Delirium was most likely setting in now.

“Spock! Spock!” From the outside somewhere, he could hear Jim‘s voice. Illogical, impossible, since Jim was dead. He also heard a deeper, raspier voice, which he could not recognize, yelling: “Medical security override code-” Spock blacked out.

When he came to, in a state of semi-consciousness, he heard Jim’s voice again--this time it was coming from a closer proximity than before.

“Spock! Spock!” Jim’s voice cried. There was still that other raspy, panicky voice that was also drawing closer to Spock. He honed all of his failing senses on Jim’s voice and completely tuned out the second presence. Spock was edging deeper and deeper into delirium, but he did not fight it at this point. If he could not have Jim in his life of reality, he would accept his beloved’s presence in the world of fantasy and illusion.

He reached out his hand one last time to bond with the presence of the only person whom he could ever love. He felt the illusion reaching out to him. Now he could no longer hear. He could only feel.

He summoned all of his mental energy and reached out to grip the pressure points on the temple of the figure leaning over him.

“My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts. Jim…My T’hy’la…My heart to your heart.”

That was Spock’s last memory before he was overcome by the shadows of unconsciousness. The bond that was his heart’s lifelong dream to initiate had finally been forged. He could now die in peace.

*  *  *

When he opened his eyes, his vision, which was at first blurry, gradually focused on Doctor M’Benga, who was standing over him with a tricorder. Spock tried to move, but was soon aware that he was strapped down to a biobed and hooked up to an IV. There was another male presence in the room, but Spock’s sense of perception was weak and he did not have the strength to turn his head sideways.

“He’s regaining consciousness,” M’Benga said to the other man. “I’ve been working with Vulcans for fifteen years and I never encountered a case like this,” the African doctor continued. “You and Doctor McCoy saved his life. In another few minutes, he would have been dead.”

Spock’s strength was finally beginning to return to him. He grabbed M’Benga’s arm and pulled the doctor closer to him.

“Why did you not--why did you not--let me die?” he asked the doctor, in a weak tone of desperation.

“Because he would have been going against my orders!” The voice that spoke those words did not come from M’Benga, but was identifiable to only one person--James T. Kirk.

“Jim?” Spock asked weakly. The figure of Jim Kirk was now standing in front of Spock.

“Didn’t think you could kill me that easily, now did you?”

Spock broke into a broad smile. He reached out to hug his friend. “Jim !”

They hugged warmly for a moment. A gentle tear came out of Spock’s eye, which Jim dried with the tip of his finger. M’Benga turned aside to give them a moment alone. That moment of silence when they looked into each other’s eyes was more meaningful than any words of friendship that they had exchanged in the past two years. Spock’s words were the first spoken to break the silence.
 

“But how? I do not understand…”

Kirk laughed. “When we were on the planet, Bones injected me with a neural inhibitor. That chemical slowed down my life signs to make it appear as though I was dead. In this way, your obligation to the challenge would be fulfilled.”

M’Benga came back to join them. “Yes, It’s a good thing that Dr. McCoy revived Captain Kirk in time when they beamed back to sickbay. Otherwise, he would have been dead for real.”

Spock was still struggling to process what was going on. “So I did not hurt you in any way?” he asked Jim.

Jim broke out in a broad smile. “No, I’m fine, but unfortunately, I can’t say the same for my uniform shirt--ripped to shreds. You know how long it takes to get the quartermaster to replace them!”

M’Benga and Kirk laughed. Even Spock broke out in a little smile.

“I am relieved that no harm was done. Where is Dr. McCoy? I wish to thank him for his medical expertise.”

M’Benga and Kirk exchanged troubled looks.

“Is there something that I should know, gentlemen?” Spock asked.

“I think it’s best if M’Benga explains, Spock,” Kirk said awkwardly.

M’Benga paused before speaking to gather his thoughts. “Mr. Spock, when you first beamed aboard after returning from Vulcan, you were very sick. You were suffering from the Plak Tow, Blood Fever. It usually goes away after the bond is consummated. In you case, you opted for the challenge, which in effect was the same as consummating your bond with T’Pring.”

“But I chose to release her from her obligation,” Spock said in a slightly puzzled voice.

“True, but your actions in challenging your commanding officer put you in a position which caused you a tremendous amount of conflict. Combine this fact with the incompatibility of the match with this particular Vulcan female, as well as your decreased capacity to cope due to your half human heritage. This is what I believe brought on a severe recurrence of the blood fever, which manifested symptoms that were far worse than ordinary pon farr: Delirium, complete abandonment of emotional control, as well as rapid physical and psychological breakdown. You would have been dead within a half hour if Doctor McCoy and the captain hadn’t found you and you weren‘t given immediate medical attention. The medication in the IV is made from a Vulcan herb. It seems to be stabilizing your symptoms. You should be fine, but I am concerned with your increased pheromone levels. Perhaps, in time, they will go down to normal. Actually, I‘m more worried about Doctor McCoy.”

“Please explain,” Spock asked in a concerned voice.

M’Benga continued. “I was actually hoping that you could tell us, Spock. You see, when you first beamed back up from Vulcan, your behavior was quite irrational. You knocked down Mr. Kyle and stumbled through the halls to your quarters. The captain and Doctor McCoy had to override the security lock code. After they entered your cabin, McCoy attempted to administer a hypospray. Before he was able to do so, you grabbed his head, muttered some unintelligible words and the both of you became unconscious. Captain Kirk called sickbay and you were both beamed over in time. The doctor’s vital signs were stabilized, but he seems to be somewhat--how can I put this?--inappropriately stimulated. I ran some tests on him and I can’t find anything wrong. Any ideas, Mr. Spock?”

Spock paused, in a moment of thoughtfulness. “I believe, Dr. M’Benga, that the answer to your question will explain why my pheromone levels have increased. As you have said, in accordance with the symptoms of my illness, I was acting irrationally. In the midst of a somewhat intense fantasy, I inadvertently reaced out to initiate a sexual bond. Apparently, Dr. McCoy got in the way when he tried to inject me with his hypospray. I am indeed sorry for my indiscretion.”

Kirk laughed. “Oh God! Bones is gonna love this when he wakes up!!”

Spock was not laughing. “Captain, I do not believe you understand the seriousness of the situation.”

“Lighten up, Spock!” Kirk responded. “I’m sure that whatever you did, you’ll be able to undo by initiating another meld.”

“It’s not as simple as that, Captain. You need to understand the unique nature of the Vulcan sexual bond. It is part of our existence, the way that we have survived as a race. Therefore, breaking the bond is an extremely complicated procedure. Neither Doctor McCoy nor I is capable of doing so. The power resides in the hands of a Vulcan healer. Only one of them is able to break the bond. We need to return to Vulcan as soon as possible, Captain.”

Kirk sighed and shook his head. “Sorry, Spock. Right now, as it turns out, we’re headed in the complete opposite direction. We’re due at Altair VI for the coronation. We’ll be traveling for at least another three days at Warp 5 to arrive there on schedule. Our mission will keep us there at least two weeks. The traveling time to return to Vulcan’s orbit will take us at least another week. Therefore, we won’t be able to return to your home planet for at least another month.”

“That could present a problem,” Spock said with a touch of concern in his voice.

“Surely there must be some way to deal with this problem,” Kirk said.

“Yes, but it is not very pleasant.” Spock shook his head. “I would need to engage in sexual intercourse with Doctor McCoy.”

*  *  *

PART 2

“Damn it, Jim, I’m a doctor, not a sex surrogate!” It was obvious that Leonard McCoy was feeling better. He was pacing around his private office in sickbay, frantically waving his arms back and forth. The door was closed for privacy and only Kirk and M’Benga were with him.

“I just don’t believe this! Damn Green-Blooded Hobgoblin! And just what am I expected to do?” he asked, half sarcastically.

M’Benga started to open his mouth to answer, but McCoy cut him off before he even started to speak.

“Never mind, M’Benga! That was a rhetorical question, for god’s sake!”

McCoy continued to pace nervously. M’Benga said nothing. Finally Kirk laughed to break the tension.

“You know, Bones, this arrangement may not really be so bad. I mean, it’s only for a month. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Jim, a month could be an infinitely long time when you have to look forward to someone poking around in your ass every night!”

Kirk didn’t answer immediately, but just became more thoughtful. Finally he commented, “It’s just a matter of perspective, Bones.”

M’Benga cleared his throat and tried to redirect the mode of conversation to a medical context.

“Doctor McCoy, you need not worry. There have been countless successful matings between humans and Vulcans, both hetero as well as homosexual in nature. In no medically documented case that I know of was the human partner ever harmed.”

McCoy ran his fingers through his dark brown hair. “Oh god! Isn’t anybody listening, damnit? This is my body that we’re talking about here!! Don’t I have any say in the matter of my intimate parts being violated?”

“Spock anticipated that you would feel that way,” M’Benga said to his colleague. “Therefore, he proposed another suggestion, although it goes against my own better judgment--cryogenics.”

McCoy scratched his head. “You mean that we freeze Spock’s body for a month? Our green-blooded friend would never go for that.”

M’Benga responded, “He would consent to it, pending the captain’s approval, of course.

Kirk picked up his PADD and checked his schedule. “Well, this mission that we’re on our way to completing does not involve Spock’s unique expertise. Besides, he has trained everyone in his department to take over a portion of his duties, should an emergency arise. Yeah, I suppose I could allow it.” Kirk hung his PADD back on his belt.

McCoy gave M’Benga a worried look. “Just a minute here! I’m no expert on Vulcan medicine, but isn’t there a risk factor involved here? I mean, considering the temperature adaptation and all. I don’t know, M’Benga. Have you ever done this before?”

“No, I haven’t, Doctor. But with careful monitoring and special equipment, there is only a 30% risk that Spock’s body will not be able to maintain itself under those conditions.”

McCoy started to get nervous. “Have you informed Spock of the possible dangers of this procedure?”

M’Benga looked to Kirk to answer the question. “M’Benga and I must have spent an hour trying to reason with him,” said the captain. “It appears that Spock is well aware of the risks involved, but he is willing to put himself through the procedure anyway. In his own words, he explained that he would rather take his chances with the risks involved than do anything to subject you to any shame or embarrassment.”

McCoy started to pace again. “M’Benga, what do I do?”

M’Benga tried to remain objective. “As a fellow physician, Doctor McCoy, you realize that our duty is to inform our patients of their options and the consequences attached to them, and then let them decide for themselves what to do.”

“My grandmother could have told me that!” McCoy yelled sarcastically. He then turned to Kirk, with a hopeless expression on his face, “Jim?”

Kirk put a comforting hand on McCoy’s shoulder. “Sorry, Bones. I can’t make this decision for you. I won’t order you to do this. It’s your call. Spock is prepared to respect your wishes.”

McCoy sat down and buried his head in his hands. He finally looked up towards the ceiling.

“Damn it, just when you think you have someone pegged as a cold blooded son-of-a-bitch, they turn around, knock you on your ass and do something nice. So, what you’re saying is that Spock would sooner risk his life by turning himself into a green Popsicle for a month, than hurt my dignity?”

M‘Benga and Kirk nodded.

McCoy sighed and spoke in a labored manner. “Well, I guess that it’s easier to contend with a sore ass for a few weeks, rather than spend the rest of my life being haunted by an annoying, pointy-eared green ghost. All right, damn it, I’ll do it! Tell Spock to report to my quarters this evening and do what he will with me. But Jim, by all that is holy, do what you can to speed up this mission so we can get this boy back to Vulcan! Please!”

Jim hugged McCoy. “We love you, Bones. You‘re doing a wonderful thing.”

McCoy pushed him away. “Yeah! Yeah! Now get away from me--both of you!! I got a sickbay to run here!!” They turned to walk away. “Oh and gentlemen, “ McCoy continued in a calmer voice, initiating a smile and his most polished southern accent. Kirk and M’Benga turned to face him. “If either of you as much as breathes a word of this to anyone else, I’ll kill you both with my own bare hands.”

Kirk and M’Benga nodded to silently assure the doctor that the arrangement would be kept secret.

After they left, McCoy was alone to contemplate his fate. He made a fist and put it to his head. It was going to be a long night.

*  *  *

PART THREE

Besides the necessity of having to be injected daily with a Vulcan sedative, M’Benga gave his approval to Spock and McCoy to work through their daily schedules as usual. The sedative helped to suppress the biological urges, at least the physical manifestations of them, temporarily, until the evening. However, there was no medication available to suppress Leonard McCoy’s emotional anxiety. The first day was a living hell for him.

It was a slow day in sickbay. He usually enjoyed the peace and quiet, but not today. The minutes seemed to pass like hours.

He used to be able to take comfort in thumbing through his old collection of medical textbooks. On this particular day; however, the page of his book automatically opened to the chapter on Vulcan male physiology. An unusually graphic image of the immense size of the Vulcan penis was staring him right in the face. Hell, the thing was so long that a close up view took up one full page. For some odd reason, the good doctor felt an urge to search in his medical arsenal for an old fashioned ruler. He made sure that nobody was watching him as he carefully measured the appendage in its entirety. He gulped in surprise as he speculated on the proportions of his dilemma.

“Damn it to hell!” he said to himself. “Get invited to a wedding and spend the honeymoon with the groom. Well, at least I don’t have to worry about getting pregnant!”

McCoy sighed as he turned off his desk lamp. He closed the book. Obviously, he was not going to get any work done today. He tapped the wall communicator.

“McCoy to M’Benga.”

“Yes, Doctor?” came the efficient response.

“I’m turning in early today. Things are slow down here anyway. You could take over until morning shift.”

“Yes, sir. Good night, Doctor.”

He turned off the intercom and started to walk to his cabin. It was good that he left early. At least he had time to prepare.

Two hours later, McCoy was much more relaxed. He was wearing his comfortable blue pajamas. He had made sure to drink enough Kentucky Bourbon and take enough tranquilizers so that whatever might happen that evening, he would be feeling no pain. Five jars of lubricant were on the night table, ready for use if necessary.

He put a videodisk into his computer and relaxed in bed as he watched the old cowboy film, “Have Gun Will Travel.” on the monitor. He was just starting to doze off, when he heard the door chime ring. The chime, although relatively soft in tone, jarred him awake immediately. He hesitated, as beads of sweat peeled down his forehead. Now was the time, ready or not. The chime rang again.

“Come in, damn it!” he yelled. A serene Spock entered. He was wearing a loose fitting, deep purple tunic and open toed sandals, and carrying a denim tote bag on his shoulder.

“Good evening, Doctor,” said Spock, nodding respectfully.

McCoy turned himself over, his backside facing upwards. He then turned his head around to face Spock. “All right Spock, let’s get this over with. I’m ready now. Do what you will with me!”

“Doctor, please! Do you honestly believe that I would use this opportunity to shamelessly sodomize you like an uncivilized savage?”

McCoy changed his position on the bed so that he was sitting facing the video monitor. He grabbed the remote that was next to him and put the volume on mute, while the movie was still playing on the monitor.

“Spock, at this point in time, I honestly don’t know what to believe.”

“Well Doctor-”

“Spock, for gods’ sakes, if we’re gonna be doing the horizontal hokey pokey, you might as well call me by my first name! My name is Leonard, Spock.”

“Leonard…” Spock said the name slowly, as if he were analyzing it in some way. “On Vulcan, the equivalent of the name ‘Leonard’ is Leonaris. It is a word, that when translated, means ‘confident, bold, with great determination.”

“You don’t say,” McCoy commented, temporarily fascinated. He sighed and indicated for Spock to sit next to him on the bed. “You might as well make yourself comfortable, for pete’s sake!”

Spock complied willingly. There was an awkward moment of silence as Spock gathered his thoughts. “Before we get started, I wanted to give you some history about the Vulcan sexual bond. As you know, many years ago, my people chose to abandon a life of savagery to follow the path of pure logic. We have been mostly successful in repressing our natural urges--the one exception of course, being the pon farr. This blood fever comes upon us every seven years. It forces the males of our species to either take a mate or die, as victims of our maddening biological needs. Most of the time, parents try to lessen the emotionality of the process by bonding their children to a partner of their choice by their seventh birthday. If you are familiar with 19^th century Orthodox followers of the Jewish faith, you may be able to draw a similarity.”

McCoy scratched his head. “Yeah, I read about something like that in history class in high school. The bride and groom sometimes don’t meet until their wedding day.”

Spock nodded. “Yes, you are knowledgeable about the ancient traditions. Therefore, you could probably well understand why many such bondings in past Orthodox Jewish, as well as modern day Vulcan cultures, produced bondings which were far from compatible. Regardless, we were bound by a certain standard of values and ethics. With few exceptions, bonded in childhood meant bonded for life--a reality which we had to be prepared to deal with, for the purpose of continuing our survival as a race. In the second type of scenario; however, sometimes Vulcans are not bonded in childhood. Therefore, when they come of age, they choose for themselves and form a “friendship bond.” with another person whom they feel close to. Unlike the “childhood meld,” which is based on parental predetermination, the “friendship” bond is based on admiration, respect and loving care. Leonard, I would be honored if you would join with me in the bond of friendship.”

For a moment, McCoy was too choked up to speak. He took a long breath. “Wow, Spock, I‘m really at a loss for words. All I could say is that if my ex-wife spoke to me in the manner that you just did, we’d probably still be married.”

“Then you therefore consent to the bonding?” Spock asked respectfully.

“Yeah, what the hell! I must tell you, though, that I feel somewhat out of my depth here. I mean, I‘ve never done this sort of thing with another man before. I don‘t know where to start. I don’t know what to do.”

Spock put his comforting hands on McCoy’s shoulders and started to massage him lightly. “Leonard, you need not do anything. Just relax. That is all I ask of you. I will take care of everything.”

“This is not going to hurt is it, Spock? I mean, I‘ve been reading books on Vulcan physiology and all. I have some lubricant available.” He pointed to the five jars on his night table. “Please feel free to use all you need. There is plenty more available.”

“Do not worry, Leonard.” Spock said in a soothing voice, as he continued to massage McCoy’s tense shoulders. “I will do nothing to hurt you. Besides, medical textbooks do not always draw to scale, as you may well know.”

“Do you mean that Vulcan males are not as well endowed?”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I believe that an expression that was used on your planet a few centuries ago is applicable in this case: ‘it is not the size that matters. It is how you use it.’”

McCoy was starting to relax now. “Oh, that’s great, Spock. Just a little lower, please.”

Spock complied and rubbed the doctor‘s lower back. “That‘s good, Leonard. Now just close your eyes and clear your mind of all tensions and anxieties.” Spock put his right hand on McCoy’s forehead, separating the thumb and index fingers from the rest of the hand. He initiated a gentle and calming relaxation meld.

“You are doing fine, Leonard.” Spock whispered in his ear. Spock’s tongue lightly licked the outside of McCoy’s ear, which caused the good doctor to giggle.

“I suppose that Vulcans are not ticklish.” McCoy muttered in a soft voice.

“If you behave, perhaps I will allow you to find out for yourself later.” Spock said in a soft, seductive tone of voice.

He gradually undid the buttons to McCoy’s pajama top, and kissed the doctor’s chest lightly. McCoy threw his head back and moaned softly. Button by button, Spock worked his way downward with kisses and playful licks. McCoy enjoyed Spock’s tongue caresses of his nipples.

“Yes, Spock, keep going.” he whispered. Spock was now at McCoy’s navel. He sucked playfully over the small hole. McCoy laughed in pleasure. As he was doing this, he undid the snap on the doctor’s pajama bottoms. He gently pulled them down, folded them up and put them on the doctor’s bedside table. While he was standing, he reached for the light switch and turned out the lights so that the televiewer was the only light that illuminated the room. Spock watched it for a moment and contemplated the human obsession with Western movies. But even he had to admit that the men on the screen looked very attractive in their tight pants and boots. He turned up the volume ever so slightly to make the atmosphere more comfortable for McCoy. Apparently, the tactic was effective. For McCoy’s penis now stood at full erection.

“Ah, ready for action, are we, Leonard?” he whispered in the doctor’s ear.

“Yes, yes !” came the excited response.

Spock started to kiss and lick at the exact spot where he left off, just a little bit below the navel. When he reached McCoy’s cock, he started to lick and kiss around the area at first to get his lover a little more excited.

“Don’t tease me, Spock!” McCoy yelled. “Come on, let me feel that tongue where it’ll do the most good!”

Spock wrapped his lips around the erect cock and started to form a tight seal with his lips and tongue.

McCoy moaned. “Yes, yes!”

He started to forcefully suck and lick as McCoy begged for more. His cock expanded in length and width as Spock’s tongue moved inward, until McCoy’s cock was fully in Spock’s mouth. Spock kept on licking and sucking, until McCoy couldn’t take it anymore. He screamed in ecstasy as the cum shot out of his cock in giant spurts. Spock dutifully licked up every drop.

McCoy’s sweaty body lay down on the bed. He gradually calmed and caught his breath, as Spock quietly got up from his knees. He untied the sash on his own robe, quickly removed it, folded it up and then put it on a nearby chair. Spock went into the bathroom, located a towel, wet it and walked over to McCoy. Gently, but thoroughly, he wiped off his lover’s exposed wetness. He took the towel and then put it into the bathroom sink-making a mental note to wash it later. He removed his sandals and then undid the buttons on his loose fitting pants. He was now in his underwear. His scanty white briefs were all of a sudden too tight for him. Therefore, the logical thing to do would be to remove them. He did so, efficiently, exposing the immense green cock in its entirety.

He walked over to where the doctor was lying. He gently turned him over, so that McCoy was on his knees with his ass pointing upwards. Spock reached into his shoulder bag and removed a small jar of ointment. He quickly anointed himself and the entrance to McCoy’s ass with the green lubricant. He crouched down near McCoy so that his cock was playfully rubbing against the outer surface of the doctor’s ass.

“I told you, Spock, don’t tease me,” the doctor warned playfully.

Spock leaned closer to McCoy’s ears and whispered to him: “As I was saying, Leonard, the drawings in the medical books are not accurate to scale.”

“You don’t say,” McCoy raised his voice sarcastically.

“Indeed, the Vulcan penis is significantly larger than what is outlined in the biological drawings.”

“McCoy moaned, “Oh Gawd!”

“Do you want it, Leonard?” Spock asked seductively.

“Yes, Spock, yes!! Give it to me now, damn it!”

Spock was only too willing to oblige. Carefully, he inserted his cock in the entrance to McCoy’s buttocks. McCoy whimpered for a moment, but then adjusted his body weight so that he could feel more comfortable. Spock started to thrust in and out, in and out, gently at first, and then gradually getting faster. McCoy moaned with pleasure as Spock continued.

McCoy’s buttock muscles tightened to intensify the pleasure for both of them. This put Spock past the point of no return. He thrust his cock all the way inside of McCoy with full force and intensity. The floodgates exploded open as Spock’s cock burst out in buckets of cum. Spock cried out with each muscle contraction. The excitement of the moment stimulated McCoy so much that he came again as well. The exhausted men collapsed, Spock on top of McCoy and McCoy into the mattress. In the background, the ending credits for the movie droned on and then all was quiet and peaceful.

*  *  *

PART 4

The next morning, McCoy awoke feeling very well rested. To his disappointment, he was alone. Spock’s side of the bed was empty. The night table was cleared. The towels were folded up. McCoy’s pajamas were neatly folded as well. The bathroom was spotlessly cleaned.

But where was Spock? McCoy looked carefully on the bedside. There was a neatly folded piece of paper, under a small wrapped package. McCoy unfolded the letter. It read:

Dear Leonard:

My apologies for my early departure. When I awoke early this morning, I remembered the awkwardness of our situation. Indeed, if I had remained for another hour when you were due to awaken, my leave-taking would have not gone unnoticed by the morning shift crew. I know that you are a man who values his pride and dignity. Therefore, I chose not to subject you to any unnecessary embarrassment. Please open the gift that I left for you and use it for your enjoyment. I look forward to meeting with you later this evening.

Sincerely,

Spock

McCoy unwrapped the package. It was a Vulcan scented candle. McCoy tried to read the writing on the piece of parchment attached to the gift, but his knowledge of the Vulcan language was too limited for him to understand the message. He gave up and just lit the candle. The aroma was soothing and pleasant. He lay back and just enjoyed it.

*  *  *

The next two seeks seemed to pass by quickly. The Enterprise reached Altair 6 on time for the coronation. Spock and McCoy kept to their arrangement. Night after night, Spock would come to the doctor’s quarters, spend the night there, but part in the morning--always remembering to leave a thoughtful note and a little gift for the good doctor.

After the end of the second week, McCoy was able to persuade Spock to sty with him until his own wake up time. He found himself caring less and less, as time went by, about public opinion. To those who as much as stared at them in a peculiar way when they were seen together, the doctor would respond with one of his own hostile stares, causing the frightened crewmembers to resume their business quickly.

It was during the third week that McCoy started to feel a certain amount of anxiety. For a while, he kept it to himself, but on the fourth day, it was so intense that he knew that he needed to speak with someone who understood the situation.

Fortunately, Kirk was in his quarters during this afternoon. Fortunately, he was alone. The door was open. McCoy knocked anyway, for courtesy’s sake.

“Hi, Jim. Do you have a moment?”

The captain greeted him with a warm smile and closed the door behind them.

“Bones! Good to see you.” Kirk warmly shook the doctor’s hand. “Please come in!” He motioned for him to sit down, walked to his liquor cabinet and opened it. “Can I get you anything? Scotch? Brandy? Gin?”

“Gin would be nice. Thank you.”

Kirk poured him a drink, which McCoy graciously accepted. The doctor gulped the whole thing down in one swallow.

“Ah, that was good! You don’t know how much I needed that.”

Jim gave him a concerned look. “I tried to call you this morning to see how you were doing, but I guess you must have slept late.”

“No, I was tied up. Er--No, I was busy, damn it! I was busy!” (The truth of the matter was that McCoy was, in fact, literally tied up. Spock was teaching him some Vulcan bondage rituals for them to experiment with later in the evening.)

“Calm down, Bones!” Kirk said soothingly. “You’re so uptight.”

“I’m sorry, Jim.”

“Anyway I have some good news for you,” Kirk continued. “I pulled some strings with a few Federation bigwigs and we were given permission to leave this place in two days. That means that we’ll be able to get you and Spock back to Vulcan at least three days ahead of schedule.”

McCoy sighed before speaking. “Err--that’s great, Jim,” he said in a low voice.

Kirk scratched his head. “What’s wrong here? I was expecting a little more enthusiasm, for goodness sakes!”

McCoy ran his fingers through his hair. “So then what, Jim? The Vulcan healers do their voodoo, Spock goes back to normal as his usual cold-blooded, annoyingly analytical self. Sure, everything is peaches and cream, but what happens to me, damn it!”

“Bones, I don’t quite understand. I thought that you couldn’t wait to be rid of these nightly obligations.”

McCoy sighed. “Why am I talking to you? You wouldn’t understand. You’re James T. Kirk, galactic super stud. You’re openly bisexual and everyone loves you to pieces for it. Relationships come and go so easy for you.”

“It may appear to be that way,” Kirk said quietly. “I put on a brave front because I have a ship to run. But I’m not immune to hurt and heartbreak either. You’re forgetting that last year, I was forced to kill my best friend and lover, Gary Mitchell. I still haven’t fully recovered from that tragedy.”

McCoy put his hand on Kirk’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jim. I certainly didn’t mean to bring back bad memories for you.”

Kirk shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I did what I had to do. That’s all in the past. So, anyway, how are things coming along with your nocturnal arrangements with Mr. Spock? How are my id and superego getting along together?”

“That’s just it, Jim. Things are working out a little too well. I mean-I’m finding out-well-I’m actually starting to enjoy this thing.”

Kirk sighed. “Are you starting to fall in love with him, Bones?”

“Love?-Jeez-I’m nowhere near ready to go there, Jim. I’m first learning which end goes where, for goodness sake!! And as far as Spock is concerned, even if I was ready, he’s in love with someone else anyway.”

“You don’t say?” Kirk speculated in a thoughtful voice.

“Yeah, he told me so last night when we were in bed together.”

“So did he reveal the identity of this mysterious person?”

“No, all he said was that it was someone who was far beyond his reach--an unattainable fantasy that could go no further.”

“Ah, we all have our crosses to bear, Bones.”

“Yeah, speaking of which, my main concern in coming here is, how will I be affected by Spock’s departure from my bed next week?”

Kirk thought for a moment. “Have you spoken to M’Benga about this problem?”

McCoy nodded. “Yes, but he doesn’t know any more than I do. He only could tell me how the dissolution of the bond may affect Spock. He has no experience with a case like ours-in which a bond initiated between a Vulcan and a human is abruptly severed. And it’s getting worse, Jim. The bond is becoming stronger. Every time that Spock as much as conceives a sexual fantasy-damn it-my brain is right there with him! It’s affecting my concentration. M’Benga keeps giving me stronger sedatives, but I fear that beyond a certain point, the medication won’t be effective anymore. I’m really worried, Jim.”

“Hmm…” Kirk scratched his chin. “I’m no expert on Vulcans, Bones, but life has taught me that where logic fails, it’s time to use instinct. The problem began with Spock, perhaps the solution is somewhere within Spock as well.”

“I was sort of thinking the same thing, Jim. The thing is that, considering my current relationship with Spock, I feel sort of uncomfortable broaching the subject with him. You know what I mean, Jim?”

“I think so, Bones. Listen, at the end of this shift, Spock and I have scheduled some time in the gym together. Would you like me to talk with him?”

McCoy nodded. “I‘d appreciate that very much, Jim. YOU know how to talk to Spock.” McCoy started to rise from the chair. Kirk patted him on the shoulder reassuringly.

“Don‘t worry, Bones. I‘m sure we’ll work this out somehow. We‘ll probably be looking back on all of this a few years from now, huddled around a campfire somewhere during shoreleave, and getting a really good laugh out of all of it!”

“No offense, Jim, but if we all find ourselves huddled around a campfire during shore leave, I’d rather be subjected to listening to your lousy singing than go through the agony of rehashing this mess! Good night, Jim.” McCoy shook his head and laughed as he walked out.

Kirk was now alone in his quarters. He tried not to show it, but he was very much worried. His two best friends were hurting and he did not know how to help them. All that he could do at this point was to talk and listen. He hoped that that would be enough.

*  *  *

PART 5

The ship’s gym was well stocked with every type of exercise equipment. Kirk looked in the mirror after his workout. His belly was bulging a little bit too much through his sweaty T-shirt. He made a mental note not to wait so long between exercise sessions in the future.

Below the waist, however, he still maintained some retention of his former boyish figure. His shorts clung tightly to his masculine form. Kirk had just done a half hour on the treadmill and was completely exhausted. Spock, though, was still strong. His form-fitting blue body suit accentuated every muscle in his beautiful body. He had done 45 minutes on the exercycle and was now working vigorously on the rowing machine. Kirk sat down and wiped himself off with the towel as he watched his friend finish his workout.

“I’m sorry, Captain. Was I keeping you waiting?” Spock said to Kirk, as he finished his work on the rowing machine. Spock was sweating from head to toe. The Vulcan’s hot and sweaty body being so close to him caused an involuntary reaction below the waist that Kirk had to quickly cover with his towel.

“Er..no, Spock. I wish that I had your energy.”

Spock sat down next to his friend and re-tightened the buckles on his athletic shoes. “Have you had enough, Captain?”

“Oh yeah, for now anyway. I really just wanted to sit and talk for a while.” Kirk put his hand on Spock’s leg. “I’d give anything to have muscles like these.” Kirk’s touch initiated an embarrassing bulge in Spock’s gym suit.

*  *  *

In sickbay, McCoy and Chapel were testing the potency of viruses by applying certain enzymes to the maturated cultures.

“Now, Christine,” McCoy said, “when you handle the solution, you need to be more careful. Even the slightest variation in procedure could cause…” McCoy lost his train of thought for a moment and then continued. “Yeah-could cause those large muscles to bulge and flex and-”

Doctor McCoy, is everything all right?” Chapel asked.

McCoy came back to reality.

“I‘m sorry. Christine, what exactly did I just say?”

“You were talking about bulging and flexing muscles, Doctor,” Chapel said in a puzzled voice.

“Oh, damn it! “ McCoy swore. “It‘s happening again!” McCoy tapped the intercom button. “McCoy to M’Benga.”

“M’Benga here.” came the immediate response.

“Come up here and cover for me. I need to go to my quarters and lie down for a while. That--err--problem that we were discussing is coming back again.”

*  *  **

“Captain, I have watched you exercise and your muscles are not being sufficiently worked. Would you like me to demonstrate?” Spock inquired.

Kirk took his hands off of Spock’s leg. “Maybe some other time, Spock. I really want to talk to you about Bones.”

“I was not aware of any problem.” Spock said calmly, yet still betraying a touch of concern in his voice.

“No, Spock. The problem is not with you. He is concerned about the strength of the bond that was initiated.”

*  *  *

McCoy arrived back in his cabin feeling thoroughly exhausted. That little break from reality in sickbay was too close for comfort. His defenses were weakening. Damn it! The injection that M’Benga gave him two hours ago should have prevented the attack. Nothing to do now but wait for Jim. “Physician, heal thyself,” he mumbled sarcastically, as he took off his clothes. A nice bubble bath was what he needed to calm his nerves. He filled the tub with the soapy solution and then turned on the water. He climbed into the tub and tried to relax.

*  *  *

Spock listened silently as Kirk described McCoy’s problem. He gathered his thoughts before speaking.

“I believe that I have been at fault here. I did not anticipate how this bond would affect a human in such an adverse manner, since I had never bonded with a human before. I am very much ashamed of my own shortsightedness.” There was actually a tone of sadness in Spock’s voice.

Kirk tried to comfort him. “Come on, Spock. Don’t be so hard on yourself. There must be something that you can do.”

Spock let out a heavy breath. “Yes, I could do now what I should have done from the very beginning. I am going down to sickbay and ordering M’Benga to prepare the cryogenic storage unit. Once I am frozen in body, the bond that I had forged will be frozen in spirit and Leonard will be out of danger.” Spock started to walk away, but Kirk pulled him back.

“Captain, I advise that you let go of me. I know what must be done.”

But Kirk just held him tighter. “I can’t let you put your own life in danger, Spock.”

Spock remained calm as he raised an eyebrow. “I am merely taking responsibility for my own actions, Captain. It was by my own indiscretion that the meld was initiated in the first place. I cannot allow an innocent man like Leonard McCoy, who has gone above and beyond all definition of friendship, to die. It would not only be illogical, but it would just be plain wrong, Jim!”

Kirk tightened his grip on Spock. “You know that I could order you not to do this, Spock. You do realize that?”

“As could I exercise valid grounds to override your order, based on the fact that you are exercising irrational judgment. I believe that we are at a stalemate, Captain.”

Kirk still would not let go. “Very well, Spock. You’re right. Logic will not work in this case. So you win hands down on that front. However, I’m going to go out on a limb here. I’m going to behave irrationally and even selfishly, Spock. Two and a half weeks ago, when this problem first started, you were driven to madness because you thought that you had killed me. When you believed that you were going to die, you were so grief-stricken that you needed to bond with the memory of someone who you believed to be very special to you. You see, I was listening closely to your last words, Spock. You said, ‘Jim..my T’hy’la, my heart to your heart.’ Now, when someone swears his love to me in that way, this is something that I have to take seriously. This is not something that I can let go.”