Author: Lady Charena
Series: A/R-TOS, post-V'ger
Codes: K/Mc, [K/S implied]
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.
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The TOS-Twins http://home.dencity.com/TOSTwins/KSlash.htm
Fanfiction in English and German from Lady Charena and T'Len
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My thanks to T'Len for encouraging me to post. And for simply being in my life.
A rainy night in Georgia
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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.
* // * // *
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.
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."
"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...