The BLTS Archive - A Stretch Of Mortal Time:
Another Stretch
by Isla (Islaofhope@aol.com)

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Feedback: Both negative and positive feedback is welcome.

Disclaimer:All things Star Trek belong to Paramount and Viacom. This
is a not-for-profit piece of fan fiction, not intended to infringe on
their copyright.  Thanks to Holmes, Java and Jat Sapphire for having a
look. This is a small piece that is inspired by a longer Sarek/Kirk
and S/Mc story that I'm working on w/ Java.

For all my other stories see my website.

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McCoy hesitated in front of Spock's door. He looked both ways to be
sure there was no one in the corridor before he knocked. "McCoy," he
said.  "Come," said the deep baritone.

Just before McCoy slipped into the room, Kirk walked around the
corner. "Bones?" McCoy ignored him, and the door slid shut behind the
doctor.

"Spock?" The object of McCoy's concern was seated ramrod straight at
his desk, his gaze fixed on his computer screen.

"One moment, Doctor." Without looking up, Spock gestured to the chair
across from his desk, and his fingers resumed flying over his
keyboard.

McCoy ignored the chair, and wandered around the desk to stand behind
Spock's chair. "Spock, would you turn off that blasted computer? We
need to talk."

"The captain requires this report-"

"Fuck the captain. He can wait for the blasted thing." McCoy clenched
his fists; the anger in his voice surprised even him.

Spock's eyebrow climbed, and he sat back from his computer console,
his arms crossed on his chest. In an even voice, he said, "I do not
believe that 'fucking the captain' is within the purview of the first
officer."

Perching his butt on the edge of Spock's desk, McCoy crossed his arms
on his chest in unconscious imitation of Spock's attitude. "You do
want to, don't you?" He glared at Spock. "Why haven't you? It's not as
if he hasn't been carrying a torch for you since . . ." He flapped a
hand in the air. "Hell, forever. What is it with you two?"

Gazing levelly at McCoy, Spock said, "If we were not friends, Leonard,
and I did not believe that your intentions were the best, I would
physically throw you out of here. I believe that I would find some
satisfaction in the look on your face as you ricocheted against the
opposite bulkhead."

McCoy threw back his head and laughed. "Maybe you should, Spock. I've
always enjoyed your emotional outbursts. And, of course, as your
friend, I'd like to see you find some satisfaction. God knows you've
had little enough in the past."

Spock's expression became remote. "In truth, I have no interest in
entertaining you with an emotional outburst."

"And you don't want to talk about Jim either, do you?" McCoy's
expression turned equally serious.

"I . . . I cannot." Spock's voice dropped to a whisper, and he looked
away.

"He hurt you. Badly. By taking up with your father." McCoy cleared his
throat. "Yeah, he surprised me, too. He can be an unprincipled bastard
when it comes to getting laid, but-"

"You are mistaken. He did not act in an unprincipled manner. Both the
ambassador and he are free to engage in whatever interpersonal contact
they choose."

McCoy sighed. "And if I had come here to defend Jim, you'd probably
still tell me that I was wrong. That he was a son of a bitch who would
spread his legs for any Vulcan cock."

A pale green flush painted Spock's cheeks, and he stood up abruptly.
His voice was deadly quiet when he said, "Get out."

"No." McCoy stood up, too, and he grabbed Spock's biceps. "Dammit,
Spock, I'm here to help. Don't you understand that I'm worried about
you?"

Controlled fury flashed in Spock's eyes. "There is no need. I have
successfully integrated the experience of the last week, and I am able
to--"

A hot flush crept up McCoy's face, too. "You pointy-eared bastard, you
think I can't count? There was a reason you were all set to marry that
woman. When Jim told me that you called off your engagement, I thought
it was because you two were going to take care of it together. I
congratulated him, but then he told me some poppycock that you didn't
want him." He stared intently at Spock. "Spock, you're going into pon
farr. What the hell are you planning to do about it?"

Spock's eyebrow crept up. His eyes swept over McCoy's grip on his
arms, and the fury in McCoy's face. He compressed his lips. "This,
Leonard." He placed his hands on McCoy's waist and pulled him into an
embrace.

"Wha--?" McCoy gasped in surprise as Spock's erection ground against
him, but his gasp was muffled when Spock's mouth came down on his.
Spock's kiss was hot and sweet, like nothing McCoy had ever imagined.
He closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and let Spock's tongue
plunder his mouth. Vertigo swept though him, and his knees started to
buckle, but Spock held him up.

"You want this?" Spock said in a rough voice against his ear.

"Hell, yes, Spock," McCoy gasped out. The evidence was straining at
the front of his pants. He hadn't planned this when he'd decided to go
to Spock's quarters, but there was no protest in his body or his mind
as he clutched at Spock's shoulders. Hot hands roamed over him,
efficiently stripping away his uniform. McCoy squeezed his eyes shut,
and he groaned with pleasure when Spock knelt in front of him to take
his cock into his mouth. He thrust helplessly and came almost
immediately.

He opened his eyes and looked down at Spock, who was efficiently
swallowing McCoy's come, his expression not very different than the
one he wore when he was considering a difficult technical problem.
Laughter bubbled up inside McCoy, and he had to let it out.

Spock looked up at him. "Doctor, are you . . . ?"

"I'm fine, Spock. Better than fine." He grinned and swept his right
hand in a caress over Spock's ear. "I hope you aren't insulted that I
laughed, but that felt so good that I couldn't help myself. I haven't
come that fast since I was a teenager."

His hands still positioned on McCoy's hips, Spock sat back on his
heels. "It is not an unusual reaction. The laughter. A reaction to
surprise and pleasure, I believe." His expression was still serious.
"May we proceed?"

"Proceed?" McCoy looked stupidly down at Spock. "Oh, yeah. Whatever
you want." He smiled. "You're still dressed, Spock."

"Easily remedied." Spock stood up, so that McCoy's hands fell away.
Without a backward glance, he walked into his sleeping area, and McCoy
stooped to pick up his discarded uniform before he trailed behind.

"Oh," McCoy said. He clutched his clothes in front of him and frankly
stared at Spock. McCoy was his doctor, so, of course, he'd seen him
unclothed before. But seated on the edge of his bed naked and aroused
was different. McCoy dropped his clothes on the floor and went to his
knees in front of Spock

Spock's hands clutched his shoulders, but McCoy barely noticed the
bruising grip as he applied his tongue to the underside of Spock's
cock. His cock tasted even sweeter than his mouth. The flesh was fever
hot and the vein throbbed with his Vulcan-quick pulse. McCoy took as
much of the long shaft into his mouth as he could, but he gagged
slightly when the tip nudged against his tonsils. This cock wasn't the
first one he'd had in his mouth, but it had been a long time, so it
took him a little while to adjust. The soft sounds of pleasure that
escaped from the usually staid Vulcan told him that he was doing a
creditable job.

"Leonard?"

McCoy sat back to gaze up at Spock. He continued to caress his cock
with his hand. "Spock?"

"What you are doing is . . . most pleasing. However, I wish . . ."

"You want to fuck me, Spock?" The solemn look on Spock's face
inexplicably made McCoy grin. "Well, I think that can be arranged. I
didn't come here to seduce you, so I don't have an lubricant in my
back pocket, but I think we can improvise."

Wordlessly, Spock extracted a tube of oil from under his pillow. He
cleared his throat before he said, "I believe this will serve the
purpose."

McCoy raised his own eyebrow. The Vulcan was prepared. He took the
tube out of Spock's hand and opened it. "The important thing when
engaging in anal intercourse is to use plenty of lubricant and to
stretch carefully. The human rectum can be stretched to hold just
about any object as long as you proceed with caution."

Amusement sparkled in Spock's eyes. "Dr. McCoy, I have not attended
one of your lectures in many years."

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that, Spock! You should show
more respect for your fellow scientists on this ship." McCoy grinned
as he began to spread the oil on Spock's cock.

"I will endeavor to remember that. However . . ." Spock suddenly
grasped McCoy under his armpits and pulled him onto the bed. ". . . I
would ask for less conversation at this time."

Laughter bubbled up inside of McCoy again. "Yes, sir, Mr. Science
Officer." He positioned himself on his hands and knees, presenting his
butt to be fucked.

"This respect for authority," Spock murmured as he slid a warm oiled
finger inside of McCoy's rectum, "is a new attitude for you. And one
that I find most intriguing."

McCoy groaned softly at the pleasure of Spock's touch. "I thought you
were the one who was interested in less talking and more fucking."

"Agreed." And the next sound that broke the silence of the room was
Spock's low growl of pleasure as he slid his cock into McCoy.

Later, McCoy propped himself on his elbow and turned to study his bed
partner. Spock's eyes were closed, and he wore his usual
non-expression. Next time, he would have to get Spock to fuck him face
to face. He wanted to see if that expression changed when Spock came.
From the sounds the Vulcan had been making, McCoy was pretty sure that
he would have enjoyed the show. He cautiously laid a hand on Spock's
chest.

To McCoy's surprise, Spock placed his own hand over it. "Are you well,
Leonard? I did not hurt you?"

McCoy chuckled. "No, you didn't hurt me. That was . . . amazing. Jim's
right about never under-estimating you. You do seem to be phenomenal
at whatever you attempt."

Spock opened his eyes and gazed at McCoy coolly. "Jim. As I recall,
your original intention when you came to my quarters was to discuss
Jim. Perhaps now is the time to do just that."

"Really, Spock?" This was damned peculiar, their naked, sweaty bodies
inches apart, and they were going to talk about Jim? "I guess," McCoy
said with studied casualness, "now that you've worked out some of your
tension, you feel more comfortable talking."

"Perhaps you are correct." Spock turned on his side, and he propped
himself on his elbow, mirroring McCoy's position.

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-to be continued-