Spock was up to something, McCoy could tell. There was something in the air, he could feel it as soon as Spock had entered his quarters. Now, when he invited Spock to sit, Spock sat right next to him on the bed, then scooted even closer, as a human would who was about to tell a secret.

"Permit me to attempt a new technique," Spock said softly, "which I believe will enhance out mutual pleasure."

At first, Spock had planned to perform this "new technique" seated at a table, but he'd reconsidered; this practice had unpredictable effects on non-Vulcans, and Spock anticipated that it might create an urgent need in McCoy for use of the bed.

McCoy was confused by Spock's suggestion. Spock typically did not make a big deal out of a new position or other sexual variable; he just did it, and McCoy would approve or disapprove then and there. (He usually approved.) At first he suspected that Spock was making another attempt to sell him on the mind-meld, but his fears were allayed when Spock merely held up one hand, his first two fingers extended. McCoy recognized this gesture from when Sarek and Amanda had been aboard the Enterprise. Since they performed this action in mixed company, it couldn't be anything too bizarre. Without needing to be prompted, McCoy mirrored Spock's gesture, and Spock moved just slightly to touch his fingers to McCoy's.

McCoy felt nothing, save for the plain physical contact. He did not understand why Spock had felt the need to preface this so cautiously. Perhaps this was just a ritual, going through some motions which had symbolic significance.

Spock began to stroke McCoy's fingers with his own, keeping the touch light but never breaking contact. McCoy tried to look in Spock's eyes but found him deep in concentration. He wondered if he was expected to do anything, move in any way, focus on something, but Spock did not make any requests of him. He decided to just hold still and let Spock fulfill this ritual obligation. Surely it wouldn't take long, and then the exciting stuff could begin.

Just as he made this decision, to relax and be patient, a bolt of sensation shot through his fingers, up his arm, and then straight down to his groin. His mouth opened, and then he made a little sound. The warm, tingling feeling settled in his balls and lingered for a moment, then dissipated. His heartbeat increased, but there was no rush of blood to his genitals, no proper initiation of the first stage of arousal. Just the shadow of that sensation. Having been quickly conditioned, McCoy began to imitate Spock's action, stroking up and down with his fingers, trying for another shot of pleasure like a rodent at the food-pellet button.

The second sensation was a softer, diluted feeling that stretched like taffy from his fingertips, reaching to all his other extremities. He could feel the tension in this sensation as it was pulled from its central point.

"Do you feel it, too?" His voice was a whisper, all he could muster.

"Your pleasure is mine," Spock said, and learning this, McCoy deliberately tried to lean into the feeling, to perceive it more deeply. He could not tell which of them felt the pleasure first, or who was controlling it, but those things started not to matter.

Suddenly the feeling snapped like a rubber band back to its point of origin, then disappeared entirely. McCoy stared at his fingertips where they met Spock's, as if to locate the sensation visually and follow it, or at least gain some insight. He did not have an erection, but his desire was not centered between his legs; rather, it was in his mind. He looked up, into those deep, dark eyes.

"Spock, make love to me," he begged. Spock slowly removed his fingers, breaking the contact. McCoy clutched at him. "Ooh, right now, please."

Spock realized too late that he should have performed this technique after they had removed their clothing. He preferred the slow, sensuous revelation of their bodies, caressing each new skin surface as they became available. Now, McCoy was stripping naked as fast as he could, and he was reaching out to do the same to Spock. So expediency would rule the day. Very well.

Spock doubted that McCoy could hold still long enough to be prepared for penetration, so instead he sat up in bed and pulled McCoy onto his lap, so that they could rub against one another. With their right hands they touched fingers once more.

McCoy could not believe the noises he was hearing himself make. He had no idea what Spock had put into him, but he never wanted it to end. He could almost perceive Spock's mind, now. Not the inner workings, not yet, but he felt the depth of it, like he was hovering above it and dropping an anchor.

He began to cry out, "Spock, you're inside me now. I can feel you inside me. Oh!"

For a moment McCoy's thrusts became too hard and frantic, and Spock was uncomfortable, but when McCoy came it was like he was falling over a cliff and grabbing Spock's wrist to take him too. Spock tilted his pelvis into the rough strokes, and they both spent themselves in a frenzy.

McCoy's body was still for a moment; then he began to shiver again. Spock took him by the shoulders and pushed him away, just to get a look at his face. Tears were spilling out of his eyes, tears so fat they continued rolling down over his jaw, down his throat, into the notch between his collarbones. He opened his mouth two, three times before he was finally able to speak.

"I hate this ship," he whimpered. "I want to go home."

And he let himself fall forward to clutch at Spock in despair, sobbing without shame or restraint.

It has happened, Spock thought. I am a fool. I have taken him too far.

"Leonard," Spock said, and waited patiently for McCoy to recover. But he remained where he was, his face buried in Spock's neck. "Leonard," Spock repeated. Seeing now that McCoy wasn't going anywhere for a while, Spock wrapped both arms around him and rocked him.

"Leonard," he said once more, and when McCoy heard it, heard his name being spoken so softly, so intimately, he began to stir. He sat up, became aware of the cool, sticky mess still smeared on their bellies.

"We will bathe and dress," Spock said. "Then I must discuss something with you."

***

It was the first suspenseful shower McCoy had ever taken. He knew that Spock would have something terribly important to say to him as soon as they got out, but not a moment before. Meanwhile, he was standing right here, and they scrubbed each other like they usually did, as though nothing special had just happened.

McCoy yanked some clothes on and hurried Spock to sit on the bed with him.

"An apology is in order," Spock said. "I have abused you."

"What are you talking about, abused me?"

"Tonight I induced you to perform an act which was potentially dangerous, something you would not have done had I informed you of the consequences."

"Spock, I'm a grown man. You never made me do anything that I didn't want to do."

"But you did not understand what was happening, and I did. Many of these experiences, the human mind is not designed for."

McCoy leaned back and scowled. "Here we go again, with my feeble human mind."

"Leonard, I am not being derogatory. It is a fact that Vulcan minds and human minds are structured differently." Spock took McCoy's hand. McCoy wondered if that was dangerous. "The things we have done," Spock said, "are traditionally only done when two Vulcans have bonded, which expands the mind and creates a space for a link. You were averse to a mind-meld, so I attempted to engage sexually with you without this link. I…" He cast his eyes downward. "My desire for you overcame reasonable thinking. I wanted to believe that the link was unessential. Now we have reached a place where I must face my error of judgment."

"Are you telling me that if I don't meld with you, we have to stop?" His skin began to prickle. He was sweating just thinking about it.

Spock paused before answering, because that question had many facets, but he knew McCoy wanted a straightforward answer. Spock had to consider how to balance what McCoy desired and what his mind could reasonably handle. And this was a question that Spock had avoided in his own mind, justifying his ignorance by assuring himself that there was no need to worry about a mind-link. McCoy stubbornly refused one, and that was that.

"To continue as we are," he said at last, "would be precarious. An experience like the one you just had would most likely become typical."

"I don't want it to be like that. If a meld is what it takes, then I want to meld with you."

"What has happened has made me realize that a meld is no longer sufficient at this point."

"Well, then I want to bond with you."

Spock closed his eyes when he heard McCoy utter that word. "A bond is very different from a meld. It is different from what I've asked you to do for me. I do not think you know how serious it is, what you are speaking of. I would not ask it of you."

"I don't think you understand. I'll do whatever it takes to be with you. I can feel that there's a sweetness inside you. I don't think I've touched it yet. I've tried. But I saw it tonight. And it'll drive me crazy if I can't get to it." The corner of his mouth twitched, the ghost of a smile. "Tell you the truth, I've been thinking about it for a while. I just didn't…you know. After all that I said I didn't want to meld with you, I'd feel like a fool to turn around and tell you that really is what I wanted to do."

Spock's eyebrow went up. "You delayed this and kept your desires a secret from me because you were too proud?"

McCoy sighed. "I apologize. But you know, you've still got a lot to learn about human behavior."

"You are most certainly correct," Spock said.

A long silence followed, where each of them waited for the other to say something. There was always a big difference between the way McCoy waited for Spock to say something and the way Spock waited for McCoy to say something. Now that they were both doing it, it unbalanced the room.

McCoy squeezed the hand that held his own. "So…when can we do it? Can we do it now?"

"That would not be wise."

"Can we do it soon?"

"It does not please me to tell you, but we may need to wait a long time. A bond requires a long period of intense concentration, without interruption. There are extended stages of mental destabilization and reorientation for both concerned, and so it is best for the participants to be completely isolated."

"Kind of like a honeymoon, you mean."

This comment reminded Spock just how predictable the doctor's behavior was. He had anticipated that the human would make that comparison. A bonding was similar to a honeymoon in only the most cursory aspects. But McCoy was not expected to understand this. Not yet. And so Spock simply nodded and said, "It is comparable."

"We'll probably have to wait for some shore leave, then." McCoy studied Spock's hand clasping his own. He was waiting for Spock to correct him, to reveal that there was some way for them to avoid waiting that long. But Spock agreed with McCoy's supposition.

"And until then?"

"I do not think that our usual physical expressions would be dangerous. But I will not attempt to touch your mind again, until we have been properly joined."

McCoy was relieved to know that they could keep fooling around, though he felt a pang of loss, to think that he was so close to Spock's mind and would now be denied access to it for perhaps months. But he did not protest. He knew common sense when he heard it.

Spock stood up, ready to leave. McCoy remained hunched over, gazing at the floor. Spock tilted McCoy's chin up with two fingers, tempting fate with just this touch.

"It has been my experience," he said, "that patience is rewarded, more often than not." And he left.

Outside, in the corridor, Spock let a little bubble of satisfaction rise to the surface. He had been confident, all along, that McCoy would consent to their joining of minds. One thing he had learned from Earth's literature was that humans never wanted just a taste of pleasure. They were never fulfilled by just a taste of love.