Title: Words Unspoken - Part II
Summary: McCoy returns to Spock’s cabin after their conversation/
argument (Part I) following their sexual encounter on Sapeidon.
Spock POV. 3300
Rating: R, more for what is discussed than what is depicted.
References to masturbation and
m/m sexual acts. Mild profanity.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. Not a molecule,
quark or vibrating string of it.
leave, I am unable to sleep, because it is as if you have
the room. Surely your scent cannot linger over that of
incense? Your voice rings in my head, your face looms in my mind’s
eye. I am haunted by memories of Sarpeidon: the
taste of your skin,
of your hands, the feel of your naked body next to mine.
had previous sexual partners; male and female, Vulcan and
human. Always before, it was a simple matter of physical release,
sometimes, perhaps, with affection. Never was it this
preoccupation with another being.
such an illogical being as you.
relieves the body’s desires, but does not ease the
of the heart.
I not put you out of my mind?
your obstreperous demand that I abandon you in
frozen waste, so that I might save myself and Jim.
too, you saying it would have gladdened you to see me
someone else; divulging that you would have rather died,
to see me go to Gol; declining to entrap me into a bonded
despite wanting me.
a hundred small moments of humor, gentleness and wit,
insight and concern. I recall, too, your temper and
your sarcasm and emotionalism, your impulsiveness
And I remember
the smile on your face after we kissed in the ancient
an arctic wilderness, your face lit with wonder and desire
myself a moment of regret, that I will never see that smile
again. I tell myself it happened five thousand years ago, that the
for a different Spock, one lost in the far reaches of time
was able to love you in return.
I could go to Gol, tomorrow. I wish I would enter pon farr,
with no possibility of returning to Vulcan, so that I might
as partner. I wish we had never set foot on Sarpeidon. I
had been stranded there, together, in the frozen past.
Am I suffering
from a vestige of the behavioral regression I exhibited
on Sarpeidon? For I remain lost. I no longer know who
now, having rebuffed you: I wish you had guessed my
secret. I wish I could have professed my love for you.
But I will
myself to your door to tell you the truth. You would
if offered, my bed and my heart; possibly, even, given time,
as bondmate. But I rejected your offer of love, and
I am unable
to take the first step back to you.
unable to sleep, I resume the meditations you interrupted.
in the filling of the self through the emptying of the self, I
measure of peace.
six eight hours after your initial visit, you have returned
to my quarters,
this time unexpected as well as uninvited. You
would be sleeping at this hour. What could you have to say
so urgent? Reluctantly, I order the computer to open the
wrinkling, your hand fans the air as you enter the room.
you ever put out that blasted incense? The particulate matter
up your lungs.”
to have come here hurriedly. You wear the standard
tee shirt rather than your uniform shirt, and your hair
is disheveled. I remember your hair on Sarpeidon, windblown in the
and thick under my hands, in the cave.
the irrational thought. Making no effort to extinguish the
I stand blocking your access to the chair.
you, Doctor, ever announce a visit beforehand? This is the
time tonight you have interrupted my meditations. I have
further to say regarding the matters we discussed earlier.”
I waited for an invitation,” you say equably, “I might be waiting
years. I promise I’ll be brief, and I swear I won’t argue
behavior would be anomalous.”
not here to try to talk you into—or out of—anything,” you reply.
there is something I need to say. Ask, actually.
I woke up a
and something popped into my head, about what you had
You told me you didn’t return my feelings, not in the
want. You implied that what you feel for me is a
of friendship and physical attraction.”
is correct.” My voice is controlled, but I am aware of a slight
of my respiration and heart rate. Have you guessed my
you never said outright, ‘I do not love you.’”
I know, does not reveal the turmoil churning within me. I
any human—not my mother, or the Captain, or you with
training—could perceive my agitation.
want you to look me in the face, Spock, and say those words. Do
I’ll leave, and I won’t bother you again about . . . what
happened. Just don’t hand me some line about loving me as a
like you said about Jim. I’m honored if it’s true, but I’m
mood just now to hear it. I want you to look me in the face,
‘Dr. McCoy, I do not have romantic feelings for you. I am
love with you.’ Ought to be easy enough—”
say it. I cannot even look at you: before
you have finished
I have walked away. Hands clasped behind my back, my
I gaze once more at the verdigris firepot creature
on the bulkhead. Plumes of fragrant smoke, sweet and
rise in the air from its shadowed heart, where the pinpoint
bright and hot.
“—assuming it’s true,” you finish, almost under your breath.
silence which ensues fairly shouts the truth. I am shamed,
for I wish
to say words other than the untruth you have asked to
too, because I cannot bring myself to speak them. I
eyes boring into my back. I feel more naked to you than I
you do, now that you know I love you? Gloat at my
emotionality? Make physical advances towards me?
to browbeat me into a verbal declaration of what my silence
confessed? Reproach me for having withheld the truth?
I decide, is the most probable. You said you would not try
you say, “You might not believe this, but I’d hoped your
would be different. I can’t have you, either way, I know
that. Would have been a whole lot easier on both of us, though,
you said to start with had been true.”
at the firepot, I ask, “Why, then, have you asked?”
needed the truth.” Sensing your answer is incomplete, I do not
speak. For six point three seconds you are silent.
Finally you add,
about why you want to undergo kolinahr.” Emptied, now,
anger it held hours earlier, your outwardly composed voice is
secret tears. A human might not hear them; from a Vulcan,
from birth in emotional control, they cannot be hidden.
isn’t it, Mr. Spock, that you plan to sacrifice your human side
altar of Vulcan perfection—mostly on account of me?”
of the forbidden topic of kolinahr does not anger me;
would be illogical, since you were answering my
truthfully. Nor can I take affront at your audacity in
you are the primary cause of my intention to go to Gol.
or not, your conjecture is correct.
to your rhetorical question is, nonetheless, thoroughly
I am wounded, not by your seemingly mocking words,
the quiet anguish with which they are uttered.
when you came to my door earlier tonight, that I would
I did not know how much.
to undo this pain. Yours, and my own. I
turn to face you.
still calm and profoundly sad, you continue, “Right after
with Rayna, I said love wasn’t written in your book.
was wrong. Turns out you’re unable to stop yourself from
the torments of love, but won’t allow yourself to experience
No wonder you want—” Abruptly,
off what you were about to say.
No wonder you want to go to Gol.
tell me—!” Again, you bite off your words. “Forgive me,”
simply. “I promised I wouldn’t argue.
Not tonight, not about
this. And you asked me not to mention kolinahr; I’m sorry. Thank
to the door.
now, to keep your face averted, your posture sags. “I’m
to say things you don’t want to hear. Well, more things. I
think you wish to hear what I have to say. Please stay . . .
“Leonard?” you breathe. The last
time I addressed you in that
was five thousand years ago, in a lonely cave: “I would
bond with thee, Leonard.”
your eyes filled with questions. And hope.
you . . . have guessed the truth, I have changed my mind
change in your expression, swiftly checked, flashes across
your face. No, you do not have the emotional control of a Vulcan,
a human you can be very controlled, when you choose to be.
“I am willing to initiate an intimate relationship with you. With
the intent expression on your face, one of eager curiosity
reined in. Crossing your arms, you say, “Shoot.”
that the arrangement be considered tentative.”
divorced,” you dryly observe. “I know all about tentative.
that for an indefinite length of time the relationship not
public. Although it may prove difficult to hide from the
I can tell, disappointed with this condition, but you make
no protest. “It wouldn’t be Jim I’d be worried about. I’d lay a bet
be the first one to figure it out. The lady has sharp eyes
and ears. Knows how to hold her tongue, though.”
I concur. “Thirdly, you agree not to mention kolinahr.”
you weigh before answering. “As long as we’re
fine. We break up, don’t count on it.” You shrug, palms
up in the
air. “Just being honest.”
is acceptable,” I say, but I make note of your objection.
in any case, will be of little concern to me if our
ends. “I do not anticipate you will have any qualms
final stipulation. I wish the relationship to be exclusive.”
do you smile, a broad grin which announces the joy you
holding in restraint. “Damn right I don’t have any
objection!” Still smiling, you say, “And while we’re at the
table, I have a few requests of my own. First off, no
mind reading. Not that I have anything to hide, but I’d rather you
go rooting around in my head.”
you do have something to hide, Leonard. You have hidden,
from me (from Jim? from the medical staff?) what my
did to you.
with your request would be problematic. Shielding
increasingly difficult during sexual arousal, and is
during climax. Nor do Vulcans shield during sleep, or
the sleeping state.”
you say. “Didn’t come across that in my reading. For a
rational and enlightened race, Vulcans are remarkably
about sexual matters. Should’ve figured mind reading
with the territory, sleeping with a touch telepath.”
shall endeavor to minimize my use of telepathy during our sexual
activity. And we need not sleep together, in the literal sense.”
“No,” you say decisively, shaking your head. “Wouldn’t
to you. Do whatever comes naturally.”
You add with a
“Within reason. Maybe there’s something else I should know
secret sex lives of Vulcans, besides pon farr, and reading
minds in bed, and all that bonding mumbo jumbo?”
are no other aspects of Vulcan sexuality that you should
find disturbing. Although there are several that you may find . . .
an eyebrow. “I look forward to learning about them. And
I am starting
to think there could be real advantages to having a sex
who can read my mind.”
how fleeting was your hesitation, before you walked so
into my arms, barely two minutes after you had been
in panic in my grasp.
I done, to deserve such trust?
hope you find that proves to be the case. Do you have any further
of your own, Leonard?”
as if in surprise when I use your given name. Indeed, the
seem odd on my tongue. Odd . . . but agreeable.
we please compromise or take turns setting the temperature
cabin we’re in—this place is an oven! And try
while I’m around. I know meditation’s important to you,
is not essential to meditation.” I walk over to the bulkhead
the firepot sits. “In any case, I do not expect to resume my
this evening.” As I did during your prior visit, I pour
the burning stick. “Computer,
circulate clean air. Also,
room temperature to twenty-three.”
that an invitation for me to stay?”
“Affirmative. Remain as long as you wish.”
towards me and we embrace. “You might regret saying
that. We both go back on duty in three hours. What
if I want to
a lot longer?”
shift begins in three point three nine hours, to be precise. In
you describe, I report on time and you do not. And when
or the medical staff discovers your location aboard ship,
be difficult for you to explain why you are in my quarters
violating the second of my stipulations.”
you always have to be so damn logical?” Your murmured words
muffled, because you are kissing me. Illogically,
logical” now sounds like an endearment rather than an insult.
similarly muffled, I say, “The behavior in which I am
engaged is not particularly logical.”
won’t tell anybody you said that.”
kisses, you lightly trace with your right forefinger the
of my left ear. Can you read my mind, or has your medical
made you aware of the tactile sensitivity of that organ and
as an erogenous zone? You say, “I’ve been waiting
years to do that.” I know what you are going to say
you do so, but I do not point this out, because I find your
voice almost as stimulating as the caress of my ear. Your
wanders to my lips. You are looking at me in wonder, much
did in the cave. “I thought I’d never get to kiss you again.”
As I was
convinced I would never again see the smile which lights
“In that case, I will not make you wait another five thousand
I initiate a kiss.
been waiting for more than just kisses,” you murmur. You pull
back. “Oh, shit, I didn’t bring lube.
I had it with me when
I was here
earlier. I didn’t expect you to change your mind.”
will be quite satisfactory. If we have waited five thousand
engage in fucking, as you refer to anal intercourse, we can
after our shift is ended in eleven point three six hours.”
you reply, a different smile now on your face, “we won’t
wait.” This smile, too, I had thought never again to see directed at
me: it is the same lustful grin you flashed during your earlier visit
to the mating habits of humans and Vulcans. “You’re
a lot more
in control of yourself than you were in that cave, and I’m
dead on my feet with exhaustion.”
for the present moment.”
mean you’re expecting to lose control? Or that you intend to
was referring to the former, but I do not believe the two are
find out if they are.”
we stumble over to the bed. You loosen my robe and it falls
least we don’t have to worry about anyone walking in on us,” you
we tumble onto the bed. “Tonight we can take our time.”
wordless encounter in the cave had been rushed, its
frantic character intensified not only by the loss of my
and our uncertainly regarding when Zarabeth might
but also by your anxiety about returning to the ship and your
our encounter might never be repeated. “This time
to savor you like a fine brandy.”
you mean the statement as a compliment, but I am not sure I
being compared to a Terran beverage of dubious effects.
Am I supposed
to reciprocate in kind the comment? It seems unlikely
appreciate being compared to t’miirq soup, its saltiness
I remain silent.
other thing, Spock—go easier on my clothing this time.”
two minutes later you say, “I knew this mind reading
have its advantages.”
been fifteen years, seven months and six days, while I was still a cadet at the Academy, since I last shared a bed while sleeping.
sensation of a body lying next to me is distracting, yet
pleasant. You are nestled against my back, your left arm slung over
me. The warmth of your body wards off the chill of the room.
shields wavering as I drift into sleep, the content of your
mind bleeds into my drowsy consciousness.
dream, I have been gravely ill, injured in some mishap which
reality never occurred. The crisis has passed. Clustered
my recumbent form are the Captain and the entire bridge
well as yourself and most of the medical staff and (even
my parents. In the irrational manner of dreams,
Vulcan, the room is unrealistically spacious and uncrowded.
to those gathered that I will recover. Expressions of
and rejoicing ensue. Your own elation is muted, however, by
to express the nature of that joy; because you have
your feelings for me, you are not free to lean down and
as you wish. Cannot say, aloud, “I love you.”
shifts in the crowded bed, waking me, and I hear you
in your sleep my name, “Spock.” Your left hand is draped
ear. The pressure is uncomfortable on the sensitive area,
and I reach
for your hand to move it away. I stroke your fingers
for the first time, “I love you, Leonard.”