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kathierif_ficTitle: Ambrosia
Author:kathierif_fic
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Spock/Leonard McCoy
Rating: FRAO
Prompt: Vulcans like salty flavors
Kink: face fucking
Notes/Warnings: slash, and sex with aliens, if you count Spock as an alien. This one was betaed bynerfgunqueen (*hugs you*) and prompted by ivy_warlord08
Disclaimer: I wish I owned this. But I don't. None.
Word Count: 1461 words
Summary: Vulcans like salty flavors, and it's driving Leonard McCoy insane.
There were a lot of things about Vulcans that drove Leonard McCoy regularly insane, and most of them had either medical reasons or were rooted in the Vulcan’s irritatingly logical behavior that he had a hard time understanding.
It had taken him a while to get used to Spock’s logical rationalizing, and after a while, he’d also learned that Vulcans, or, to be more exact, Spock, did, in fact, have feelings.
To be more precise – and Vulcans were precise, after all – feelings for him.
Feelings that Bones, to Spock’s great surprise, found that he returned.
It took him some time and a few illogical, emotional outbursts to get used to Spock’s way of switching between the formal “Dr. McCoy” when on duty and the “Leonard” Spock used when they were in private. It also took both of them some time to get used to each other’s habits, likes and dislikes.
One of Spock’s preferences that drove him crazy, even as he found it, from a medical, scientific standpoint, utterly fascinating, was the Vulcan’s obvious love for salty flavors. Spock had assured him that it was a common preference among Vulcans, and Bones had quickly learned that it made meals that Spock had prepared for the two of them interesting, to say at least, and that it had the potential to turn other activities from sweet pleasure to an almost unbearable torture – at least, in Leonard’s opinion.
He really had no complaints about working the same shift as Spock and going to bed at the same time as Spock, fighting for the blankets until Spock rolled on top of him, a hot weight that pressed his wrists carefully into the mattress and kissed along his jaw and throat. He also had no complaints about Spock moving down his body, his fingers precise and sure on the fastenings of his pants, pushing the garment down Leonard’s legs. He smiled when Spock settled between his legs and arched an elegant eyebrow, as if he was contemplating the task set before him, and Leonard tried to copy him, raising his eyebrow as if he wanted to give Spock silent permission to go on.
As if he wanted to challenge Spock to go on.
However, this was, in most nights, the point when the torture started.
He loved it when Spock took him deep into his mouth and allowed him to move freely, fucking his face with abandon and enjoying Spock’s wet and unbelievingly hot mouth while Spock’s tongue teased the vein on the underside of his erection with strictly logical and geometrical patterns. If Spock added one of his long-fingered hands to the mix and used it to tease his ass, gently pressing into him and stimulating his prostate, Leonard was pretty much coming almost immediately.
Those were the good nights, he thought while biting his lip until he tasted the metallic tang of his own blood. Most of the time, their encounters went a little bit different – just like right now.
Spock was using one of his hands to press Leonard’s hip down, keeping him pinned to the bed and preventing him from thrusting up. The other hand was wrapped around his straining erection, stroking gently up and down.
Spock’s mouth was wrapped barely around the tip of his dick, his tongue running over it, eagerly collecting every little, salty, drop of pre-come.
He’d been at it for a while already, Leonard figured while blinking the sting of sweat out of his eyes. He’d lost track of time – he always did – but it felt as if he’d been hard for hours already, while Spock teased the small slit at the tip of his dick with just the hint of any pressure and not giving Leonard what he really needed.
Leonard whimpered pathetically, his hips straining against the strong grip that kept him pinned, but he still refused to beg for more stimulation. Spock was a contact telepath, he thought, a hint of irritation creeping into his mind as he clenched his teeth tight and gripped two handfuls of sheet. Spock knew that this, these slow, catlike licks over the head of his dick, only drove him insane, but didn’t make him come, no matter how long Spock concentrated on the task.
Spock also knew him better than anyone, save Jim, and Leonard wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting his teasing be rewarded with illogical and emotional begging, no matter how fascinating it would be for Spock to observe him come undone under his tongue.
He would not.
Spock pulled back as he registered the shift in Leonard’s mood. His thumb brushed gently over Leonard’s exposed hip, the Vulcan equivalent of a series of butterfly kisses pressed to his skin.
“Leonard?” The voice was without emotion, but when Leonard lifted his head to look at Spock, he detected something in the dark, expressive eyes and the slant of the eyebrows of his lover.
Amusement.
The pointy-eared bastard knew perfectly well what he was doing to him, and he was doing it on purpose.
Leonard growled and reached out to tangle both hands tightly in Spock’s impeccably combed hair. He knew of course that Spock could pull him away without even having to try too hard, but he was also sure that he wouldn’t put up too much of a fight. Spock enjoyed this too much to stop him. The way his grip on Leonard’s hips eased in favor of brushing his fingertips up his chest indicated that he had the Vulcan’s permission to proceed.
His hips pushed upwards sharply, to get more of his dick into Spock’s mouth, and the only thing that stopped him from going in to the root was Spock’s second hand, still wrapped around the base of his erection.
He pulled back and almost out before tugging on Spock’s hair, shoving himself deeper into Spock’s mouth and getting the stimulation along the whole length of his dick that he liked and needed in order to come.
After a while, Spock removed the hand still wrapped around him, and on is next thrust, Leonard slipped even deeper into Spock’s mouth. The hot and agile tongue against the underside of his dick, the suction and wetness that suddenly engulfed him so completely, sent a sharp spike of arousal through Leonard and made him moan brokenly.
He felt his orgasm approach quickly and clawed at Spock’s hair, trying to stay away from Spock’s sensitive ears but not really caring beyond his own pleasure at this point.
He knew that Spock understood. Hell, they’d been through Pon Farr together. If he’d ever seen an egoistic side to Spock, it had been then.
He thought it couldn’t get better – he was almost there, almost ready to give up, could already feel the familiar tingle in his toes and his spine, the tightening in his balls, when Spock swallowed around the tip of his dick.
Leonard shouted and yanked Spock back as he came, his hips twitching uncontrollably.
Suddenly, Spock’s fingers tightened on his hips again, probably leaving bruises – not that Leonard cared about that right now – and pulled back, to catch the hot spurts of come on his tongue. Leonard, who had expected the move, didn’t complain, but then, he was still too busy orgasming.
Besides, he knew how much Vulcans liked salty flavors.
“Leonard?” Spock murmured softly after a few moments in which Leonard had the chance to catch his breath.
“Yeah?” he answered and leaned up on one elbow, to brush his fingertips awkwardly against Spock’s. Spock hadn’t grown tired of showing him, again and again, how to move his fingers correctly, but Leonard hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it yet.
Spock’s eyebrows twitched amusedly at his fumbled attempt of a Vulcan’s greeting, specifically, a lover’s greeting – the thing that Jim had started to call fingerkissing, once he’d realized what it was.
Leonard grumbled something under his breath that sounded like “greenblooded hobgoblin” – not that Spock cared; he knew Leonard McCoy well enough to know that it wasn’t meant as an insult, but more of an endearment, an affectionate nickname – and rolled around, to grab the bag he’d dropped next to the bed when he’d come in earlier. Without paying attention to Spock’s curious glances, he started to rummage around in it.
“I got you something,” he finally explained over his shoulder before making a triumphant noise that made Spock even more curious and sitting up, a small bag in his hand.
He grinned and crawled back under the sheets, curling up around Spock.
Handing the bag over, he explained with a small grin: “Salted nuts. Special import from Earth. So that next time we’re doing this, we can skip the part where you tease me to hell and back just because you’re in the mood for something salty.”
…end.
Author:
kathierif_ficFandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Spock/Leonard McCoy
Rating: FRAO
Prompt: Vulcans like salty flavors
Kink: face fucking
Notes/Warnings: slash, and sex with aliens, if you count Spock as an alien. This one was betaed by
nerfgunqueen (*hugs you*) and prompted by ivy_warlord08Disclaimer: I wish I owned this. But I don't. None.
Word Count: 1461 words
Summary: Vulcans like salty flavors, and it's driving Leonard McCoy insane.
There were a lot of things about Vulcans that drove Leonard McCoy regularly insane, and most of them had either medical reasons or were rooted in the Vulcan’s irritatingly logical behavior that he had a hard time understanding.
It had taken him a while to get used to Spock’s logical rationalizing, and after a while, he’d also learned that Vulcans, or, to be more exact, Spock, did, in fact, have feelings.
To be more precise – and Vulcans were precise, after all – feelings for him.
Feelings that Bones, to Spock’s great surprise, found that he returned.
It took him some time and a few illogical, emotional outbursts to get used to Spock’s way of switching between the formal “Dr. McCoy” when on duty and the “Leonard” Spock used when they were in private. It also took both of them some time to get used to each other’s habits, likes and dislikes.
One of Spock’s preferences that drove him crazy, even as he found it, from a medical, scientific standpoint, utterly fascinating, was the Vulcan’s obvious love for salty flavors. Spock had assured him that it was a common preference among Vulcans, and Bones had quickly learned that it made meals that Spock had prepared for the two of them interesting, to say at least, and that it had the potential to turn other activities from sweet pleasure to an almost unbearable torture – at least, in Leonard’s opinion.
He really had no complaints about working the same shift as Spock and going to bed at the same time as Spock, fighting for the blankets until Spock rolled on top of him, a hot weight that pressed his wrists carefully into the mattress and kissed along his jaw and throat. He also had no complaints about Spock moving down his body, his fingers precise and sure on the fastenings of his pants, pushing the garment down Leonard’s legs. He smiled when Spock settled between his legs and arched an elegant eyebrow, as if he was contemplating the task set before him, and Leonard tried to copy him, raising his eyebrow as if he wanted to give Spock silent permission to go on.
As if he wanted to challenge Spock to go on.
However, this was, in most nights, the point when the torture started.
He loved it when Spock took him deep into his mouth and allowed him to move freely, fucking his face with abandon and enjoying Spock’s wet and unbelievingly hot mouth while Spock’s tongue teased the vein on the underside of his erection with strictly logical and geometrical patterns. If Spock added one of his long-fingered hands to the mix and used it to tease his ass, gently pressing into him and stimulating his prostate, Leonard was pretty much coming almost immediately.
Those were the good nights, he thought while biting his lip until he tasted the metallic tang of his own blood. Most of the time, their encounters went a little bit different – just like right now.
Spock was using one of his hands to press Leonard’s hip down, keeping him pinned to the bed and preventing him from thrusting up. The other hand was wrapped around his straining erection, stroking gently up and down.
Spock’s mouth was wrapped barely around the tip of his dick, his tongue running over it, eagerly collecting every little, salty, drop of pre-come.
He’d been at it for a while already, Leonard figured while blinking the sting of sweat out of his eyes. He’d lost track of time – he always did – but it felt as if he’d been hard for hours already, while Spock teased the small slit at the tip of his dick with just the hint of any pressure and not giving Leonard what he really needed.
Leonard whimpered pathetically, his hips straining against the strong grip that kept him pinned, but he still refused to beg for more stimulation. Spock was a contact telepath, he thought, a hint of irritation creeping into his mind as he clenched his teeth tight and gripped two handfuls of sheet. Spock knew that this, these slow, catlike licks over the head of his dick, only drove him insane, but didn’t make him come, no matter how long Spock concentrated on the task.
Spock also knew him better than anyone, save Jim, and Leonard wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting his teasing be rewarded with illogical and emotional begging, no matter how fascinating it would be for Spock to observe him come undone under his tongue.
He would not.
Spock pulled back as he registered the shift in Leonard’s mood. His thumb brushed gently over Leonard’s exposed hip, the Vulcan equivalent of a series of butterfly kisses pressed to his skin.
“Leonard?” The voice was without emotion, but when Leonard lifted his head to look at Spock, he detected something in the dark, expressive eyes and the slant of the eyebrows of his lover.
Amusement.
The pointy-eared bastard knew perfectly well what he was doing to him, and he was doing it on purpose.
Leonard growled and reached out to tangle both hands tightly in Spock’s impeccably combed hair. He knew of course that Spock could pull him away without even having to try too hard, but he was also sure that he wouldn’t put up too much of a fight. Spock enjoyed this too much to stop him. The way his grip on Leonard’s hips eased in favor of brushing his fingertips up his chest indicated that he had the Vulcan’s permission to proceed.
His hips pushed upwards sharply, to get more of his dick into Spock’s mouth, and the only thing that stopped him from going in to the root was Spock’s second hand, still wrapped around the base of his erection.
He pulled back and almost out before tugging on Spock’s hair, shoving himself deeper into Spock’s mouth and getting the stimulation along the whole length of his dick that he liked and needed in order to come.
After a while, Spock removed the hand still wrapped around him, and on is next thrust, Leonard slipped even deeper into Spock’s mouth. The hot and agile tongue against the underside of his dick, the suction and wetness that suddenly engulfed him so completely, sent a sharp spike of arousal through Leonard and made him moan brokenly.
He felt his orgasm approach quickly and clawed at Spock’s hair, trying to stay away from Spock’s sensitive ears but not really caring beyond his own pleasure at this point.
He knew that Spock understood. Hell, they’d been through Pon Farr together. If he’d ever seen an egoistic side to Spock, it had been then.
He thought it couldn’t get better – he was almost there, almost ready to give up, could already feel the familiar tingle in his toes and his spine, the tightening in his balls, when Spock swallowed around the tip of his dick.
Leonard shouted and yanked Spock back as he came, his hips twitching uncontrollably.
Suddenly, Spock’s fingers tightened on his hips again, probably leaving bruises – not that Leonard cared about that right now – and pulled back, to catch the hot spurts of come on his tongue. Leonard, who had expected the move, didn’t complain, but then, he was still too busy orgasming.
Besides, he knew how much Vulcans liked salty flavors.
“Leonard?” Spock murmured softly after a few moments in which Leonard had the chance to catch his breath.
“Yeah?” he answered and leaned up on one elbow, to brush his fingertips awkwardly against Spock’s. Spock hadn’t grown tired of showing him, again and again, how to move his fingers correctly, but Leonard hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it yet.
Spock’s eyebrows twitched amusedly at his fumbled attempt of a Vulcan’s greeting, specifically, a lover’s greeting – the thing that Jim had started to call fingerkissing, once he’d realized what it was.
Leonard grumbled something under his breath that sounded like “greenblooded hobgoblin” – not that Spock cared; he knew Leonard McCoy well enough to know that it wasn’t meant as an insult, but more of an endearment, an affectionate nickname – and rolled around, to grab the bag he’d dropped next to the bed when he’d come in earlier. Without paying attention to Spock’s curious glances, he started to rummage around in it.
“I got you something,” he finally explained over his shoulder before making a triumphant noise that made Spock even more curious and sitting up, a small bag in his hand.
He grinned and crawled back under the sheets, curling up around Spock.
Handing the bag over, he explained with a small grin: “Salted nuts. Special import from Earth. So that next time we’re doing this, we can skip the part where you tease me to hell and back just because you’re in the mood for something salty.”
…end.