Title: Kindness Overwhelming
Author: Yami no Kaiba
Beta: Toadstoolcouch
Recipient: Misplacedmarbles
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Rating: R
Pairing: McCoy/Spock
Length: 1,674 words

Note: Originally written for happy-trekmas's 2009 exchange.
Summary: After an away mission, McCoy returns to the ship for some well deserved rest. A pollen-influenced Spock has other ideas.
Disclaimers: I do not own the characters or the concepts of Star Trek in any of its forms.
Warnings: None.

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According to the report, it had taken the Biology Department fourteen hours to find the cause: an innocuous, tri-petal purple flower not even a foot tall, but apparently it releases a type of pollen that temporarily blocks certain neuro-receptors in Vulcan physiology.

Of course, by the time the Biology Department had figured that out, Spock had already gone off on a few Ensigns, snapping rather cruelly about their inadequacies in their chosen profession. He had right out harshly stated at one point, that if they could not figure out the difference between a circuit board and a mother board, they should seriously consider reassignment.

It is just as well that Spock had only been mildly irritated at the time – McCoy shudders to think what would have happened had Spock been pissed off instead.

As it is, Spock had requested after cooling down from the display of temper that M'Benga, who'd been senior Medical Officer on the ship at the time, put him on temporary medical leave. Once the request had been approved, the Vulcan had retreated to his cabin to wait for the pollen to leave his system.

Only now, forty-two hours later is McCoy becoming aware of this development, as he reads through the Department's logs for the past few days. He had been wrapped up for over fifty hours down on the planet, working with the ship's newest medical staff, running them through mock scenarios and basically nailing their faults to a wall. Those exercises, according to Starfleet Medical, were essential in that they would help the new personal to deal with the reality of emergency situations in the field.

Nurse Lin is still unconscious on a biobed outside his office in Sick Bay. The poor girl had fainted from exhaustion down on the planet.

He shakes his head at the thought, chiding himself mentally for not noticing the weary faces of the youths. He's been practicing medicine too long on this blasted ship, if he's forgetting what it's like for eager new recruits.

Or maybe he's just getting too old for this. He certainly feels like it, now and then.

Growling a bit then giving a weary sigh, he stands up and rubs at his eyes, despite knowing better. "I'm definitely not getting any younger. Why is it always the plants or the alien populace that seem to have it out for Spock, anyhow?"

Sighing again, he closes the log files and steps out, checking on Nurse Lin to see if she is relatively comfortable. Finding her as well as can be expected, he leaves her sleeping and heads off for some well deserved rest of his own. Just the thought of his cabin, with its soft pillow has a weak grin spreading across his face.

Into the turbolifts, down a few decks, then he’s walking past crew members down the corridors to his door, which swooshes open for him.

It's the heat he notices first, higher than he's expecting and immediately uncomfortable for him as it is a dry heat. He's used to the wet heat of Georgia, which while oppressively heavy and damp, doesn't make it feel as if his skin needs moisturizer applied every five minutes. Frowning, he steps in far enough for the doors to close behind him, and makes a bee line for the computer console to work the thermostat down to a more reasonable temperature and turn off the dehumidifier.

"Please desist from the attempt to change the atmospheric conditions, Doctor. I find the increased heat and dryness to be conducive to soothing my... moods."

The voice in a place it most assuredly should not be makes him startle and whirl around, his heart pounding in his chest. He sees before him Spock, shirtless, standing as straight and proper as always in the doorway to his bathroom. "Christ, Spock! You sneaky bastard, what are you trying to do, send me to an early grave?!"

Spock merely lifts an eyebrow, lips giving a slight smile as he gives a considering look to McCoy's flung out hand between them. Looking down, Leonard flushes and draws his hand back quickly to place the empty hypospray back on the console.

To cover for his embarrassment, Leonard leans back, letting the computer console's light shadow his face. "Well? What do you want?"

Spock seems to hesitate, and if Leonard isn't mistaken a flash of worry appears quickly on that strong countenance before steely resolve replaces it. Spock steps forward into the room, and takes a seat on the edge of McCoy's bed. "You."

Leonard blinks, thrown for a turn. "Pardon?"

"I have meditated over this for thirty hours, among other things, in the privacy of my cabin. I have waited here for your return for another twelve. I want you, Doctor. It was not until this incident that I realized how much. I want you to kiss me. I want you to touch me. I want you to participate in an act of copulation with me, on this bed, wherein you are kneeling over me, holding me down, and 'driving in hard', as the Captain would say."

Leonard feels as if he's just been hit upside the head with a hydrospanner, the way his thoughts just grind to a halt, and for a moment he forgets to breathe. Then he sees Spock smile a bit, and something sparks in his mind. Unfortunately, it isn't rational thought. "What in blazes type of sick joke are you trying to pull on me?!"

And fuck, fuck, fuck, he's never seen Spock flinch like that, and instead of the stunning impact of a hydrospanner, he feels as if he's just kicked viciously at that fluffy unicorn dog from that crazy planet that had split Jim in two.

Wincing, he brings his hands up between them, wide spread and empty. "Sorry, just – please, give me some time for processing, here."

Spock nods, and while outwardly he looks as calm as ever, Leonard can see that worry in his eyes again.

There is a tense expectation in the air between them, distracting enough that Leonard can't really think beyond this being a poor joke. "Why?" He blurts out before he can think more.

Spock's eyebrow arcs, and there is a bit of mirth in his eyes. "Why what, Doctor? Why do I want that? Why are we here? Why does ice reflect the color blue?"

And God, that needling at his poor sentence syntax is exactly what he needs to get his mind past its repeat of 'this is a joke'. He bristles, shoving away from the console and stomps the few feet he needs to get in range to poke Spock in the chest. "You know damn well what I mean, you pointy-eared hobgoblin."

"I thought that would be obvious, Doctor," Spock murmurs, hand flashing up from its rest on the bed covers to close around Leonard's wrist. A small tug is all it takes to move him forwards and off balance, so that he sprawls with a yelp against Spock's chest. "I find your presence and conversation quite... stimulating."

And fuck, if that isn't an erection pressing against his abdomen. "I can tell," he drawls, trying to push back up with his one free hand. He only gets so far before Spock tugs sharply again, and Leonard is right back where he had been not seconds before.

"I do not believe you do," Spock says softly before tilting Leonard's head up and kisses him.

Leonard shudders, his mind molasses as he moans and shifts forward, practically climbing into Spock's lap. He hasn't had a kiss like this since his marriage had started falling apart; starting sweet and tender but quickly sparking aggressive, possessive need in both of them.

When they came up for air moments later, Leonard flushes hotly once more and glares into those brown eyes. It's damn embarrassing, to be forced to realize just how affection starved he has been all these years. Embarrassing and irritating if a single kiss can get him that hot under the collar.

Luckily, Spock's grip on his wrist has loosened, and it's child's play to snatch his hand back and roll to the side and back to his feet. Turning around to face Spock once more, he growls low and stabs an emphatic finger towards the door. "You, Mr. Spock, should leave. Now."

He has the time to see a frown flit across that face before he's once again sprawled over Spock, who has grabbed his forearm and just dropped back to lie on the bed. So here he is, angled so he's covering a majority of Spock's chest with his lips brushing against Spock's collarbone. "It is not my intention to leave, Doctor. Especially now that I know how much you want this as well."

And there's pressure against his hair, and fuck it, the pointy-eared bastard has been waiting for half a day, and has been thinking about this for a day longer. Surely that is plenty of time for Spock to think this over logically as well as emotionally, right? Maybe Leonard won't be taking advantage if he just gives in and does what they both want. "I can't promise anything," he warns in a shaky voice, more afraid of Spock's reaction in the morning than the immediate proposed action to be taken.

"That is... disappointing, but not unexpected, Doctor."

"You call me Doctor one more time, and I'm kicking you out of this bed," he growls, ducking down to lick at Spock's collarbone, while shifting his legs around so he's kneeling above Spock moments later.

A brief grin blooms across Spock's face, before he wipes it clean. "I believe those are acceptable terms, McCoy."

He frowns, and bites lightly at Spock's chest in retaliation, "Leonard."

Spock's skin shivers lightly under his meandering fingers. "More than acceptable, Leonard."

"Damn right, it's acceptable," he mutters against Spock's skin, grinning a bit at the victory, however small.

It's going to be a long night. But Leonard decides he isn't going to complain.

Much.

--Fin.