Notes: This is PORN. Unashamed, unabashed PORN. That actually reduced my soundboard to keyboard spasms, so it is intense porn. BE. WARNED.
Further notes: This is also Part One of Two. More porn to come. (Oh God, bad pun. I'm sorry.)
Warnings: light kink, dirty talk, drug use, explicit sex (duh), McCoy generally being a BAMF top.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek 2009, and I make no profit from this work.
Spock eyed the plush red carpeting under their boots as Leonard wrestled with the room keys, and arched an eyebrow.
"I believe the phrase is that you have 'splashed out'?"
"That's right," came the amiable response as he opened the door and ushered Spock inside. "Ensuite with a shower and bath, balcony with a sea view, and a bed big enough to fit the whole damn bridge crew. Whole nine yards."
The other eyebrow joined its twin. "Will the command crew be joining us?"
"Not a chance," Leonard grinned, locking the door behind them and dropping the suitcase. "Just you and me, four whole days. Haven't had nearly enough time to get you all to myself lately."
"Am I going to be able to leave this room at any point?" Spock quipped.
"Not likely," Leonard shrugged, dropping down onto the bed and bouncing a couple of times. "C'mere."
Spock allowed himself to be reeled in by the hand, and folded down onto Leonard's lap as naturally as breathing, reaching for the warm skin and stubble-roughened kiss waiting to greet him.
"Are you going to inform me of your plans?"
"You ain't figured it out?" Leonard asked, worming his hands under Spock's shirt and rubbing a thumb over the stutter of his heart.
"I have not examined the contents of your bags."
"Ah," Leonard hummed, kissing him again, before easing him off onto the bed and twisting until they sat facing each other, and not at quite such close quarters. "You can say no to any or all of this, at any point."
"I see," Spock said. "So it is sexual in nature."
"Some of it, yeah."
"Some of it?"
Leonard took a breath, and reached for Spock's hand. He had a tendency to touch when suggesting new activities - sexual or otherwise - and Spock paid it little attention.
"I want to give you a relaxant. It won't impair your sexual function, or your mind. It's a common muscular relaxant, very light, and we've used it on you before when you were under the traction fields for your spine fracture last spring."
Spock's eyes flicked to the suitcase - presumably where any supplies of the drug were contained.
"It won't do a damn thing to your mind or your telepathy, and you'll be able to move around freely and do everything as normal - but you'll feel a bit more lethargic about it. It's designed to stop extensive use of the muscles, for recovering trauma patients."
"To what end?" Spock asked.
Leonard's grip shifted on his hand. "Bit of the ego, bit of the caveman ancestor thing. You're a heckuva lot stronger than me, and I want to tip the scales for a while."
Spock got the distinct impression that that was not quite all that Leonard wanted, but the doctor tended to more forthright about his more aggressive sexual tastes - like physical domination - than about his more emotional tendencies.
"It will not affect my telepathy?"
"Nope," Leonard said. "Not going down that route again, not after last time. I checked; we've used it on you before with no problems, and I have plenty of the antidote and stimulants to combat it should it go funny for any reason."
"Would I be physically capable of overpowering you?"
"Probably not," Leonard admitted, squeezing his hand. "You might be able to make things a little harder for me, but I'd ultimately be able to overpower you."
"So it is...to serve as an alternative form of bondage."
"In a way," Leonard shrugged. "More of a caring aspect to it, Spock, I gotta admit that. If I wanted to tie you down and fuck you, I would. This...I get to manhandle you and get you all relaxed and pliant for me. Play with you a bit. And it'll be novel to be able to look after you when you're not bleeding all over me or pukin' your guts out."
Spock cracked a very small smile.
"So, you gonna let me take over for a while?" Leonard coaxed, rubbing his fingers around Spock's thumb.
"Will there be any effect on my voice?"
"No," Leonard said flatly. "No. And listen - you tell me no, and it stops. Right then, okay? If there's anythin' you don't want me doing, you just tell me and it stops. You won't be able to stop me with brute strength this time, and I might not be able to tell the difference between you just pushin' at me, and you really pushin' at me, so you say the word, and it's over. Whenever, for whatever reason. Okay?"
"Anythin' you want me to do or not do in particular?"
Leonard had always been very...perhaps edgy was not the right term, but cautious, over the use of drugs in their sexual encounters. He was less particular with physical bondage - Spock had been 'surprised' by waking up cuffed or tied on multiple occasions for multiple reasons, and very occasionally, light sedatives came into play. Anything above that, however, and the doctor immediately retreated back into laying out his plans in advance, and waiting for Spock's express consent.
And Spock knew, from prior experience, that his word would be final.
Without that trust, he would not agree. With it, however...he eyed the suitcase again, and said: "I would like permission to access your mind. Not a meld, but...reading surface thought and..."
"Intent?" Leonard guessed.
"Okay," he agreed. "Anythin' else?"
"The loss or diminishment of physical control can be...confusing, and occasionally alarming, so I would prefer it if your mind were accessible at all times."
"Translation: don't let go of me?" Leonard guessed.
"Oh, I ain't lettin' go," he chuckled. "That's not the point. And I can do that."
"In which case, you may proceed."
Leonard leaned forward to kiss him briefly before rising and moving to open the suitcase. Inside, protected by their mixed clothing, lay a small, grey medical bag, which he brought to the bedside table and opened, displaying four hyposprays and four refill vials.
"Relaxant, antidote, and two different stimulants," he said. "I brought a tricorder along as well, just in case."
"I expected as much."
"Okay," he positioned the hypospray at Spock's neck and looked him dead in the eye. "You sure, darlin'?"
"I am sure."
The instrument pinched briefly and hissed, and then Leonard tossed it almost carelessly back onto the bedside table. He drew Spock up from the bed by the hands and proceeded to strip him down effectively, his hands almost clinically efficient.
"It takes a little while to kick in proper," he drawled, kicking off his own boots and drawing Spock towards the ensuite. "So I'm gonna get you in the shower, wash all that recycled ship smell off you, and by the time we're done, it'll have all settled in."
"Drugs do not 'settle in', Leonard..."
"This one does," Leonard replied cryptically, cranking up the shower and rummaging in the linen closet for towels. "You tell me when it starts. You might go a little weak in the knees, and I don't want to have to grab for you. You're still damn heavy."
He did not, to Spock's relief, push him towards actually getting into the shower until the steam began to fog the glass, and laid out a pile of towels over the heated rail ready for getting out again - and then stepped fully clothed into the shower.
The end of the sentence was kissed away, and then Leonard's rough, skilled hands were rubbing shower gel over his skin and Spock decided that his strange idea of being clothed in a water shower was not of great importance. Leonard had talented hands in most fields, and while his movements were not sexual, they were not entirely clinical either. He projected a faint undercurrent of desire, rippling up under the warmth of affection and the strange, narrow stream of attention that meant that Spock was the only thing on his mind.
As loved as Spock knew he was, Leonard was also a doctor, and so Spock was very rarely the only thing on his mind - and he basked in that direct feed with an almost hedonistic air that he should have been ashamed of. He tracked the warm path of those hands across his body, scrubbing lightly from head to toe and back up again, leaving nothing unturned and hovering in the familiar, almost soft territory between the hands of his doctor and the hands of his partner, so that the touch was luxurious, even pleasurable, but not so much arousing or lustful.
He rested his face into the crook of Leonard's neck and shoulder, and opened his mind enough to brush against the active hum of the human's, and felt a heavy wash of complex, irrational, irritable, illogical love surge over him.
It was a strange sensation, almost as if his mind was losing touch with his muscles. He could feel them, and they physically responded when he tried to move, but sluggishly, as if the message was not quite permeating the...haze, the lethargy, that was creeping into his limbs. It was although he were physically tired, but not mentally - and yet that was not quite right either.
"I feel strange."
"Alright," Leonard said calmly, one arm coming around to clamp about Spock's waist. "You feel sick or shaky?"
"Good. Just be a couple more minutes, then we'll get out."
He felt at odds with himself. His limbs felt heavy, physically too heavy to move without assistance, and yet his mind felt light, cut off from the weight that tied his body down. He reached - both mind and body - for Leonard, and wrapped himself into the anchor waiting.
"Yeah, that's getting there. Alright. C'mon, darlin'. Nice an' easy."
He was guided carefully from the shower and wrapped in a large bath sheet, a smaller towel going around his head, Leonard's steady hands never straying far or for long. His legs felt like lead - physically able to hold him up, but swaying from the effort, and he clutched at Leonard's shoulders the moment that he came back fully into reach.
"Come on, then. Come with me."
He was taken from the bathroom, Leonard pushing him to walk backwards, folded against Leonard's wet shirt by two suddenly powerful arms, strong in a way that he had not appreciated - had not been able to appreciate - before. The kisses began as they left the cold tile of the bathroom: hungry kisses, deep and wet and devouring, kisses that finalised the separation of his mind from his body and left him almost feebly weak, pawing and stroking at the wet fabric of Leonard's shirt entirely ineffectively.
Then he heard the balcony door slide back.
He stiffened up - and suddenly the push of Leonard's body against his was stronger, much more forceful, and he found himself being pushed backwards into the warm night air of a Jenerian evening regardless of his protest. He pushed back, but for the first time, the doctor didn't move under his hands, and he was crushed into a powerful surge of sheer lust as the next kiss - demanding, pure demand - pushed past his lips and swallowed his gasp.
"Don't want the neighbours to hear, do you?"
A crushing pressure forced its way onto his shoulders, and the bump at his knees had them buckling, and he fell, falling to the balcony floor gracelessly, his body too heavy to control. He clutched desperately for the very man responsible, and found himself on his back, still wrapped in the towels, pinned between the balcony floor and the immovable weight of the man above him.
"Nobody can see us from down here," Leonard breathed, the words more of a growl low in his throat. "The balcony wall will keep them out, but they can hear us. They can hear you. You wanna do that? You wanna yell? You gonna put up a fight for me?"
Spock suddenly grasped the point of Leonard retaining his clothing as the towels were ripped open, leaving Spock entirely naked and vulnerable. It felt vulnerable, to be pinned down under this fully-clothed man and exposed to the open air, unable to cover himself or push the man away - when he did, the pressure only increased, and the waves of lust turning into a surging sea...
"Leonard, Leonard, please..."
"What?" the pressure eased slightly, and Spock reached heavy fingers to pluck ineffectively at the shirt.
"Need more skin?"
"I think you're trying to get me naked," Leonard smirked, but stripped off the wet shirt and tossed it aside, stretching out over Spock again as though making himself comfortable.
The added skin - hot, damp human skin that bled flurried human emotions - the shimmer of sexual attraction and the heavy wash of lust - allowed for more of the undercurrents to filter through as well, and Spock breathed in the searing heat of possessiveness wrapped in the quiet hum of love, like a heartbeat, echoing in the distance.
He pushed again, and touched a hand to Leonard's pants.
"Oh no you don't," Leonard growled, dragging his hands back up and pinning them between their chests. They felt too clumsy and lethargic to do anything else but be trapped, and Spock's complaint was once again swallowed by a deep, sucking kiss. "I'm taking my goddamn time with you. Gonna spread you out and take you, again and again until you're begging me to stop, and then I'm gonna take you inside and fuck you until that mattress don't bounce."
Spock's chest heaved as he gulped for air, and Leonard sank his teeth into the exposed neck and sucked until a livid bruise swelled up. He abandoned it shortly afterwards, bearing his weight down and beginning to thrust against Spock's bare hip, the wet friction of his pants somewhere between maddeningly erotic and uncomfortably chafing.
"Leonard, please..." he groaned, and whether it was the way he said it or the way his hips finally responded to his brain and rocked clumsily up into the human's, he found blazing eyes inches from his own.
"Yes," he breathed, stroking clumsily across the stubble on the doctor's face. The rasp was erotic to his fraying nerves, and he felt his breathing shudder.
"You want this?" the doctor reached into his own back pocket, and produced a very familiar tube. "This what you're after? Me stretchin' you open until you're begging for more?"
Spock stretched up, straining against the weight and the drug, to kiss him, and found himself promptly pinned down again, and the kiss broken only in time for him to wheeze for air. He did not regain his breath in time, before the weight was gone, and rough, hot hands were turning him over, face-down into the towels, and his body completely exposed.
"Now this is a view," the doctor drawled, planting one heavy hand into Spock's back to keep him down. He had to be kneeling aside, not touching Spock but for that hand, and all his weight resting on it. "This? This is mine. You belong to me now; all of this," and dry fingers dragged down the cleft of his ass almost threateningly, "is mine."
"Yours," Spock rasped, and the weight descended again, heavy and pressing him into the balcony floor. He felt covered, he felt owned, he felt stripped of everything but Leonard and those hands and lust, desire, possession...
"Damn right," teeth bit down at the back of one shoulder, and he distinctly heard the cap of the tube being popped off. "I can do whatever the hell I want to you right now, and you couldn't stop me if you tried. And don't think I didn't feel that little twitch. That turns you the hell on, doesn't it? Knowing that I got you completely helpless, and I could do whatever I wanted, whatever you didn't want, as long as I want..."
A slick finger suddenly pushed inside, the relaxation from the drug and the lust and the anticipation carving an easier path than usual, and a reactionary sigh breathed its way from Spock's lungs.
"But also," Leonard breathed, very low and very quiet into Spock's exposed ear, "knowing that I won't."
Spock took another shaky breath, and twisted his head to gasp out a murmur that was quite possibly not a word at all.
"Speechless," Leonard crooned, biting lightly at the other shoulder, crooking his finger and adding a second. "A damn miracle with you. Is this what it takes? Stripping you down and taking control?"
His fingers dug deeper, and a jolt of white-hot pleasure snapped Spock's spine into a brief, perfect posture before the drug relaxed it out again, and Leonard chuckled, planting his other hand between Spock's shoulder blades and doing it again. The pleasure rippled and bounced off the blocking weight, and Spock shuddered in his grip, pinned like a butterfly on display.
"Leonard, Leonard, please..."
"I cannot...I cannot last..."
"Oh, you'll last," Leonard said idly. "You come before I do, and I'll just start all over again, you got that?"
The answering hiss said that he did.
"And as I'm coming in you, and you're not ready..."
Spock clenched deliberately around Leonard's fingers. "I am..."
"Nope," came the maddeningly calm reply, even as he worked a third finger inside and twisted them, wringing a sharp gasp from Spock's throat. "See? And I know you gotta keep your possessions in good working order. Broken toys are no use to anyone."
Spock attempted to push back on Leonard's fingers, but the drug refused to allow him the respite, and he simply shivered between the press of Leonard's hand in his back, and the now-rhythmic flashes of lightning rippling outwards from his working, twisting, destructive fingers...
"You get a Vulcan all worked up, and they make humans look chaste," Leonard mused, finally (finally) withdrawing his hand and turning Spock over again, manipulating his limbs and head as though handlng a rag doll. "Look at you," he briefly handled the heavy, painfully hard cock before sitting up and reaching into his back pocket. "Desperate for it. You're worse than a cheap street slut."
He leaned right down, propping himself on his elbows either side of Spock's head and dropping his weight to pin him flat again, one hand twisted into his hair and holding him frozen, exposed and helpless and vulnerable. He dragged his head back until Spock's jaw went slack, and pressed the edge of a condom packet between his teeth.
"Open it," he said.
Spock clamped down on the foil, and Leonard tore the packet open, catching the condom and grinning.
"If I were cruel," he said, "I'd make you put it on."
Spock was drowned in another kiss, dragged through another sea of lust - overwhelming, dizzying, hungry lust that lapped at his senses and shook his libido into a frenzy he had not thought possible - before Leonard retreated again, folding up Spock's legs like paper and settling between his spread thighs as though he belonged there.
And he did.
When he pressed in, slick and hot and heavy, an endless unrelenting pressure, Spock shivered with the need to simply arch under the sensation, and then the weight was back, arms sliding around his back and tucking him into that hot chest, the hammer of a heart slamming into his slack hands, and hissing human words sliding over his jaw and ear.
"Leonard..." Spock choked, his mind clutching at the feelings and his body sagging, overstimulated and crying out for moremoremoremoremore in the doctor's hands.
And then the doctor began to thrust - hard, long strokes, powerful strokes, pinning Spock's body in his arms until he was forced to accept them, cleaving him open and leaving him exposed, raw, owned, kept, possessed - he whimpered into the kisses, hands clutching uselessly at Leonard's chest, and if he were drowning then surely the doctor was drowning too, right alongside him.
"Yeah, you c'mon, darlin', you c'mon, I gotcha, I gotcha, I always gotcha, you know that, pinned you down and fucked you open and I'll be damned if you're getting away now so c'mon..."
He felt the short-circuit stop-gap pause of thought when Leonard came, and the sharp stutter of his hips, the muscles in his arms and chest suddenly clamping down and clenching with a powerful spasm that sent Spock over the same edge, rattling out his own lust, muscles caught between the drug and the climax, coiling and relaxing at odd intervals, exposed and vulnerable, without protection, everything gone and collapsed, everything...
"L-Leonard," he breathed. Breathing was...difficult, and he gulped for it, straining to do it until the iron band around his back loosened and Leonard rose up, sliding out of him with a faint grimace and sitting back to rid himself of the condom. He still wore his pants, shucked to the thighs, and he slid them up again easily before crawling forward to press his weight over Spock and kiss him, slow and soft and gentle.
"I gotcha, darlin'," he murmured, and caught Spock's still-weak hands when they grasped for him. "Now this is what I was after," he added, running the backs of his fingers down Spock's cheek. "This. You. All relaxed and open. No shuttering, none of that Vulcan nonsense. Just you. You and me."
Spock reached, still shaking through the aftermath of the most intense orgasm of his life, to stroke clumsy kisses across Leonard's jaw, and received a crooked smile.
"Think I blew a logical fuse or two, huh?" he mused, easing the towel out from under Spock's head and using it to clean his stomach before folding the larger bath sheet back around him and sliding back up the now-covered body, slipping his hands under slim shoulders and almost cupping them together, rather than gripping. "You back with me yet, sweetheart?"
"Well, close enough," Leonard said, easing Spock's hands around the back of his neck. "C'mon, you hold on and we'll get you inside. I might have blown a fuse or two there, but your back isn't going to like either of us for a while if we don't sort it out."
Spock relaxed, heavy and pliant, into the arms that hauled him upright, and lacked any of his characteristic grace as he stumbled from the balcony back into the hotel room, wrapped in a cool towel and Leonard's secure arms, wrapped into not lust, now, but the love-heartbeat and the gentle mix of easy concern and ghostly affection.
"There y'go, darlin'," Leonard murmued, pouring him onto the bed and finally - finally - shucking his pants and boxers on the end before crawling up to settle over him. His weight pressed them both down into the mattress, and Spock felt...felt protected, almost, surrounded by such fierce possession and gruff gentleness.
"I...do not wish to sleep," Spock murmured, still concentrating his still-hazy mind on the kisses that he brushed over Leonard's jaw and cheek.
"Fine by me," Leonard chuckled, bending his head to kiss him, their lips clinging for a moment longer than they intended. "That drug won't wear off for another five hours, at least. How about I get any floor-induced kinks out of your back, and then we'll see if we can't blow another couple of fuses?"
"Agreeable?" Leonard snorted, and delivered a warning bite to the bruise lingering on Spock's neck. "I don't think I blew enough fuses, then."
Spock gave no reply, but to kiss him.