Author: Lady Charena
Series: A/R-TOS, post-V'ger
Rating: NC-17
Codes: K/Mc, [K/S implied]
Feedback:
LadyCharena@aol.com
Summary:
Spock's return changes everything.
Disclaimer:
Paramount/Viacom owns Star Trek. I borrowed a small part from it, to play with
the Boys. The story is mine and fanfiction - no moneymaking or offence of
copyrights intended.
If you are
under age, please stay away. If you have a problem with m/m-relations and -sex
- sorry, you've picked the wrong story for your entertainment. Please be
patient with any errors - English is not my native language.
* * * * * *
The
TOS-Twins http://home.dencity.com/TOSTwins/KSlash.htm
Fanfiction
in English and German from Lady Charena and T'Len
* * * * * *
My thanks
to T'Len for encouraging me to post. And for simply being in my life.
A rainy
night in Georgia
* * * * * *
* * * * * *
by Lady
Charena
Dec 2000 /
March 2001
His gaze
followed Jim's blurred figure walking down the street, till the approaching
darkness swallowed him entirely. After that he watched for a while the
raindrops running down the window.
At last he
turned and crossed the room to step to a low table. He ignored the shaking of
his hands as he reached for the bottle and poured another glass. After downing
it, he refilled the glass, spilling some of the Brandy onto the table. He
didn't care.
The alcohol
burned his throat, but it didn't matter anyway - he didn't feel it at all.
Leonard
McCoy took the bottle into the awful empty living room and threw himself into
the nearest armchair. Putting glass and Brandy onto a nearby table, he dropped
his face into his hands.
* // * // *
Damn...
He saw it
all along. The whole time. It started anew between the two of them. Since Spock
reached for Jim's Hand in sickbay. No, earlier. It was only the last of an
entire series of moments like this - moments, he had been lost to the two of
them. The determined look in Jim's face as he followed Spock into space, to
save him after his attempt to meld with V'ger. And still earlier - the meeting
in the briefing room. Or Jim's face after Spock's unexpected appearance at the
bridge. Now he remembered not only the old pain in Jim's eyes, but also a
newborn hope and sparkling joy. After that he knew, didn't he? It was over. He
just didn't know it would hurt so bad...
* // * // *
The evening
started - some hours ago or maybe in another lifetime - almost perfect.
They went
to a little Italian restaurant, Jim's favourite in Atlanta. He was pretty
optimistic to get back command over the Enterprise, even though there was still
no decision from the Admiralty or from Nogura. Spock stayed at the Vulcan
embassy in San Francisco to clear some things after his hasty departure from
his home world.
The food
was delicious, but Jim didn't eat much, he continued instead pushing his
lasagne from one side of the plate to the other. They drank wine, later Brandy,
sometimes talking - sometimes not. Over the last year, they shared many
evenings like this.
After some
time Jim lifted his head and smiled. "I don't feel much like talking
tonight, sorry, Len. Too many briefings, I think," he said quietly.
"I
don't mind, Jim. It has been a long day."
Suddenly a
golden sparkle lit in hazel eyes. "And it's not over yet. What do you
think about continuing it at home?"
He should
have known instantly that there was something amiss. At home... Jim never
called McCoy's house like that before.
So they
went *home*.
* * *
Jim slowly
took off his jacket, as McCoy closed the distance between them to kiss him.
"You've been pretty busy today," he complained in mock seriousness
after releasing his lover. "I felt neglected, knowing you to spend so much
time with Spock near."
There was
some awkward silence, following his words. Then Jim freed his arms entirely
from the jacket, dropped it to a nearby chair. "You're right." He
reached out to draw his fingertips over McCoy's chest. "But you should
know me better - its always duty first", he said with a seductive smile.
"And
Spock?" The words spilled over his lips without any conscious thought.
Another one
of these short, deadly silences. Then Jim shrugged. "What about him?"
he asked, maybe a little bit too casual. "He and I can still be friends,
can't we?"
"He
had been your lover for almost four years, dropped you suddenly for some
mystical search for logic and run back to Vulcan without an explanation. You've
been devastated after he deserted you. Don't tell me you feel nothing about his
return," McCoy snapped back.
"Len,
don't tell me you are jealous about... him," there was a strange tone in
Jim's voice. It simply could have been disbelief, colouring his words or some
kind of amusement - or guilt?
McCoy
pushed that thought away and turned to take off his jacket, too. Absently he
wiped some moisture from its back. It started raining after they left the
restaurant. "I just thought maybe you'd want to talk about it. His
appearance was pretty sudden."
He closed
his eyes for a moment as Jim reached for him and waited somewhat tense for an
answer.
"No, I
don't want to talk about him."
Did Jim
deliberately avoid saying Spock's name? McCoy shied away from that thought.
Jim was his
lover for almost one year now and they had never spoken about Spock or his
departure before. Maybe it had only been loneliness, which brought them
together a year ago - but this was past. He had fallen in love with the younger
man, he had known as a friend for so many years. And Jim...
McCoy
turned to watch Jim's face. Something was wrong - but he couldn't quite put his
finger on it. There were new lines in the still boyish face, around Jim's lips
and in the corners of his eyes. Stress signals? Or even... pain?
"I'd
rather not talk at all, Len..." Jim's voice had taken a seductive timbre,
cutting into his thoughts. His palms rubbed over McCoy's chest, circled over
already hardening nubs beneath the thin shirt.
Heat
gathered in McCoy's abdomen. Jim's touch inflamed his body as always - like
some mystical love potion.
"I
love you," he said quietly - and waited in vain for an answer... like he
did every time.
Jim simply
kissed him.
* * *
A trail of
careless shed clothes marked the way into the bedroom. Jim's clothes.
McCoy stood
in front of the rumbled bed, just returned from a short excursion into the bathroom.
He watched Jim with a strange clinical feeling.
A fine
sheen of sweat covered Jim's body, glistening in the soft light. One leg bent
and pulled up. The fingers of one hand clawed into the sheets beneath. The
other hand slowly milking his cock. His head thrown back, his face distorted
with pleasure. His lips moved, but McCoy couldn't hear a word.
"Save
some for me."
Jim's eyes
flew open and he grinned. "Well... seems you caught me red-handed. And
now?" he asked teasingly. "What are you going to do with me?" He
slowly lifted his hand from his cock and licked his fingers thoroughly.
McCoy had
to fight against a wave of dizziness. The show Jim put on sometimes made his
knees weak and his cock hard. He knew the game well enough to simply drop his robe
and climb into bed.
He cleared
his throat. "Turn over," he ordered.
Jim reached
for him to pull him down for a short hungry kiss and then obliged.
He bent his
head to draw with his mouth a line down Jim's spine. He savoured the slightly
salty taste, the almost silken texture of the skin.
"Hurry,
Len." Jim's voice was muffled from the pillow and he arched his back to
make his need clear. "C'mon. I need this."
"Always
impatient, that's my Jim," McCoy murmured, but moved to straddle him and
reached for the nearby lube. He took his time, lubricated and stretched the
opening with his fingers - and ignored Jim's murmur of protest. He put some
more on his own cock, positioned himself, and slowly pushed in. There was no
resistance and Jim pushed back to meet every thrust.
He ranked
his nails down the sweaty back and Jim shivered beneath him, coming now up to
his knees. Never losing his rhythm, McCoy followed him, taking both of Jim's
hips into his hands to hold him steady.
He heard
Jim moan and calling out words, he didn't understand. It sounded vague
familiar, but he couldn't quite remember... he forgot this train of thoughts as
he felt his orgasm approaching. Reaching around to milk Jim's cock, he started
to thrust faster.
"Yes,"
Jim hissed through clenched teeth and pushed back. "Make me come..."
His cock
jumped and pulsed in McCoy's hand like a living entity. Jim anal muscles
contracted around his embedded member and he called Jim's name.
"Make
me come," Jim whispered as if in answer. "Please, make me come,
Spock..."
McCoy
froze. Almost distantly, he felt Jim come all over his hand and the sheet. And
there was only pain as his own orgasm rushed through him seconds later.
* * *
As soon as
his still trembling body was able to comply, McCoy moved away from him to get
up. He grabbed his robe, put it on, and left the bedroom.
With shaky
hands, he poured a generous drink of Brandy and downed it with one gulp. And
refilled the glass. He forbade himself to think about what had happened. About
Jim's betrayal.
Instead he
listened - to the distant noises from the bedroom, the sound of the door to the
bathroom, the shower - and gazed out of the window.
"Len?"
Jim sounded almost shy and McCoy could smell the scent of the soap he
preferred.
"Did
you think of Spock every time I fucked you?" he spat out the words, but he
didn't turn to watch Jim's face.
"You
cannot think I..."
"It's
quite obvious, isn't it? You called his name," McCoy cut him short. There
seemed to be a cold hand in his chest, squeezing his heart. He shivered.
"Why?" he whispered. "WHY?"
"I
don't know." Steps and then the sound of somebody throwing himself into
the old armchair next to the small table in one corner of the room. "I'm
sorry."
McCoy
swallowed against the bile in his throat. "Why?" he asked.
Silence.
Then Jim's
voice again. "I went to his quarters last night. At least I wanted him to
*enlighten* me about his return..." Jim stopped for a moment. As he
continued, the faint touch of sarcasm had vanished totally. "I needed to
know... hell, I'm not sure, if I can really explain what he meant to me. And
what losing him did to me."
Obviously
he was waiting for an answer. "I see," McCoy said, closing his eyes.
"So you've talked with him. The whole night?"
Jim's
silence was answer enough.
"He
failed being a good Vulcan, and only now he's coming back to us poor humans,
that's it. And of course you've instantly fallen for him again." It rained
again outside the window. "After all he did to you."
"You
don't know, what I did to him." Jim sounded almost desperate, but there
was too much pain in McCoy to react to it. "I refused to bond with
him."
Slowly
McCoy turned. "He asked you to bond with him? Last night?"
Jim shook
his head. "Shortly after our return to Earth. We never talked about
bonding before. He surprised me and I... panicked. I told him that I would
never bond with him. Instead listen to him I run away and got drunk. When I
went back to him, he was gone..."
"And
now?" McCoy asked.
"I...
I told him. About you and me," Jim said. "I think you saved me,
but..." He stopped to seek for the right words.
"But
I'm not enough anymore, right?" McCoy tried to keep the bitterness out of
his voice. He didn't succeed quite and turned again to hide his face. "He
is back - so you don't need me anymore."
"No!"
Jim protested, but it sounded half-hearted. "Len, I... I'm sorry."
McCoy
nodded once. "I think you better go now." The words almost choked
him. "Go to him." It was the hardest thing he ever had to say.
"Be... happy with him. You still love him more than you could possibly
love me."
"Len,
I..."
"Go.
Please, Jim. Leave me alone."
And Jim
really turned to go. Halfway to the door he stopped. "If I get back the
command from Nogura. Will you... will you come aboard the Enterprise
again?"
McCoy
closed his eyes. "I don't know."
Silence.
Then the sound of the closing door. He already knew, he would return to the
Enterprise. It would be hard to see him happy with Spock - but it would be even
harder not to see him at all.
He continued
to watch the rain falling down in silence...
end