CHOICES

Choices, Part 1                        

Leonard:

Gods, I hope Jim and Spock never find out I've been eavesdroppin' in their heads.   Bad enough that I'm right there with them every time they make love, whether I wanna be or not -- but to explain it to them?  Hell, no.  That'd be a bit too much for me.

How do I know?  It's this gods-be-damned link.  Three years ago, Spock made the choice to have me carry his katra  around in my head, and that started this whole mess.  Now, every time Jim and Spock get it on, I'm right there with them -- only, I'm not.

The link between Spock and me's become too strong for even alcohol to blur the edges.   I've tried working during  the time Jim and Spock make love.  After nearly botching an important series of lab tests which would have wasted a great deal of time and research, I gave that up.  How would I have  explained *that* to Spock?

For days, I've been an unwilling participant in the bliss of these two love starved men who don't know the meaning of 'moderation in all things'.  To me, it's both agony and bliss... Agony, 'cause I can't press my body against the bodies of my friends, can't stroke and caress and kiss them, as they kiss and caress each other.  Bliss, 'cause I feel *everything* Spock and Jim do to each other, all the emotions they feel, as if I'm right there with them, everything -- all the touching, stroking, licking...  Oh, the sweet ecstasy of it makes me burn for both men.  Thank the Gods they'll never know.

Tonight, I've arranged my schedule so I'll be off duty.   I'm here, alone in my cabin, flat on my back, waiting.  My eyes keep shifting to the chrono.  Not long now.  I'm a practical man, a realist too, though Spock would probably disagree.   There's only one way to deal with this, and I know it.  Guess I've  known it all along, but didn't want to give in to it.  Which is pretty stupid, 'cause if I had a patient in this situation I'd've told him right off what to do.  I'd've said to either talk to the others involved, or to take care of it himself.

Which leaves only one choice for me.  Talking to Jim and Spock is out.  That's a definite.  And I'm not averse to using my own hands.  Hell, I've been a man alone too many years to let that kinda thing bother me, though I prefer the real thing when I get the chance.  *This* though, this seems a bit on the kinky side -- for me anyways.  I tell myself, "Ya gotta fight fire with fire".  I think about that, and I laugh, but it's more of a nervous, choked off sound than true laughter.    This sure is some fire I'm fightin' tonight...

Anticipation makes my heart beat faster; my body trembles and my palms sweat.  And that's not all.  I adjust the pillows under my head and shoulders, more out of   nervousness than need, and catch a glimpse of my cock.   "Well, well, Len," I mock myself, but gently, "you're in full  bloom tonight, now, ain't ya, boy?"

Guess there's no denying it.  I may think this is a bit kinky, but I'm more than willing to try it out.  I know I'll never have these two men *physically*.  This is the next best thing, and Jim and Spock need never know.

A short time later, when the link opens, I touch myself with knowing fingers, but it isn't *my* hands I feel.  I  feel Jim's hands on Spock, Spock's hands on Jim, their mouths sharing hungry, wet kisses.  I gasp.  A new dimension has been added.   I can *taste* them, and oh, Lord, they taste *wonderful*.

I feel what Spock feels, as Jim takes his sex into his mouth...  I throw my head back against my pillows, trying to  hold on, to make this last...  I groan.   It's all so *intense*.

Oh, my... Spock just reared up and grabbed Jim --

Spock teases Jim at first, with long, lazy strokes of that hot, hot tongue, causing Jim to arch up against his lover in eager, trembling need, and I do the same.  That green-blooded son-of-a-bitch is a cock teaser, and he's about to drive me out of my ever-lovin' mind.  He finally relents, taking Jim in deep, his hot mouth sliding down over him, over me.

Gods, I need this, *have* needed this.  Why did I fight it so long?  I must've been crazy.  I grasp my eagerly straining cock, but it's Jim's hands caressing Spock's sex that I feel.  I stroke up and down, deliberately moving to Jim's rhythm, squeezing, releasing, in the same way Jim loves Spock.  We're close to coming, now... all three of us.  That indescribable mixture of delicious sensations courses through me -- that tingling, shivering, trembling-all-over feeling.  My thrusts become more urgent, my breathing, more ragged.  I can't seem to catch my breath.  My thumb   flicks at the oh-so-sensitive spot just behind the head of my cock, and I shudder.

"Oh, please!  Oh, yes!  Oh, yeah, ohhh.."  A dim corner of my mind realizes it's *my* voice I hear, saying those words over and over again, almost like a prayer.  It's almost funny -- almost, but not quite, not with the three of us all so close, with all our needs surging through me, threatening to overwhelm me. Suddenly, it's too much.  I want to scream, to cry, to do anything but be alone like this.    Not *alone*.  I want Spock. I want Jim.  I want to hold them, love them, but I can't, I can't...

Finally, the explosion rips through me with shattering force. All three of us climax within moments of each other, but it seems to go on forever.

For the first time, I know a man's taste -- Jim's taste.   I wonder dazedly if Spock will taste the same.  Spock's fluids splash over Jim, and I delight in the feel of that flow over my own body.  And then me.  I'm already slick -- I'm ready, and then some.  I thrust my hips once, twice.  I call out the names of the two men I love as the multiple orgasms blaze through  me again and again; the feeling's so intense my upper body's lifted right off the bed.

My hands, arms and stomach are sticky with my own eruption.  I collapse back onto my pillows, too exhausted to even clean up right now.

My emotions are in a turmoil.  I'm *physically* satisfied, true, but I feel more alone and lonely than I did before.  Oh Lord, I need their touch, their love, like a man in the desert craves water.

Turning my face into my pillow, I begin, quietly and desperately, to cry.



                     Choices, part 2                      

Spock:

I throw my head back against the pillows and clench my fists among the bedding, fighting to keep the last ragged  shreds of my control.  Jim pauses in what he is doing, and favours me with a wide and knowing grin -- then ducks his head and takes me in his mouth again, licking and sucking, using that cool human tongue with all the skill his years of loving have given him.

"Ahh... *Jim*!" I groan, helpless under the flood of erotic sensations my human is giving me.  I feel, suddenly, as if there is not enough air in Jim's cabin, though I know that this is not true.  But the things that Jim is *doing*-- ah, I have never, in all of my life, felt this way.  Until Jim...  Involuntarily, I raise my hips, thrust myself deeper into that warm velvet mouth...

I am no virgin -- I laid with Zarabeth, once, in the ice age of a dying world's past.   I still remember her, though the memory is dream-like, clouded by the haze of primitive emotions I was feeling at the time.  But I *did* enjoy her, and she, me -- and my subsequent shame did nothing to change that fact.  And I am almost certain that I made love to Leila  Kalomi, under the influence of the spores on Omicron Ceti III.   Though it is hard to be sure of that -- everything that I experienced under that influence began to fade once the spores were driven from my body.

But nothing I have ever done or felt could have prepared me for this, for the love that flows now, between Jim and I.  For our Bond, that grows deeper each time we lie together.  For the touch of my t'hy'la, and the pleasure we can give to one another.   I am lost in that pleasure now, Vulcan logic and restraint vanished like dry leaves in the mouth of a furnace -- and I cannot bring myself to care.  It is *so good*!

Suddenly impatient, I sit up, roll my human onto his back, and bend down to take that cooler-than-Vulcan hardness in my mouth, to do to Jim what Jim has been doing to me.   And he gasps, "Spock -- oh, *god*, Spock -- oh, *please*..."  And I let the corners of my mouth tilt up into that private half-smile I reserve for Jim alone, and bend my head again, devouring the eager straining flesh, taking Jim as deep as I can before I have to come up for air.  He writhes beneath  me, and reaches to take my own sex in those skilled and sensitive hands.  And one squeezes and strokes, as the other licks and sucks, both of us climbing ever higher, straining toward that peak that we both can sense is near.

Waves of tingling pleasure course through us both, the familiar electric tension building in balls and bellies. Shivers of ecstasy shake us from head to toe, pleasure flowing back and forth along our Bond, building ever higher, until at last, with a deep ecstatic groan, Jim comes, his cock pulsing, jerking, filling my throat with salt-sharp human seed.

And the sensations of Jim's climax take me over the edge; I cry out, helpless, as my own climax burns through me,  as I cover Jim's hands and belly with my own hot flood of seed -- and that is when I feel it---

---feel human hands clench around a human cock, and waves of fire and pleasure arc among us all, amplified almost beyond bearing; I feel the long, shuddering, quivering aftermath slowly, so slowly, begin to subside...

Only gradually does my awareness narrow again, until once more, I can feel just Jim and myself.  I lie quietly, still trembling, catching my breath, and listen while Vulcan and  human heartbeats begin to steady and slow down.  Finally, Jim sits up, and smiles at me, and murmurs softly, "Wow...  Spock -- *that* was... whew!"

I permit myself a smile, then, as I meet those beloved  hazel eyes.  I indulge myself, and reach to brush that errant lock of hair from my human's face.  It will fall right back down, of course, it always does -- but that does not matter.  It is enough that only I am permitted this liberty.  I pull Jim close again for a deep and lingering kiss, before he hops out of bed and heads for the fresher, as is his habit.   I, a creature of the deep desert, will not need to use it for some hours, yet. Instead I stretch luxuriously, savouring the languorous afterglow of our loving, feeling as utterly relaxed as I ever have in my life.

I know, now, what it was that I felt at the moment of climax -- it has taken but a moment's thought.  It was Leonard, of course -- somehow, when the doctor carried my katra, a link was forged between us.  The priestesses had declared the ritual of fal-tor-pan a success, told us we were free of one another  now -- but obviously it is not as simple as they thought.  And now Jim and I, as we pleasured one another, have unknowingly drawn Leonard into this, too.  We had not intended it -- in fact, I am fairly sure that Jim still does not know.  But as I think about it, certain things that I have seen lately, but not understood, now make a terrible kind of sense.

Leonard has been uncharacteristically quiet of late.   There are dark circles of shadow under the doctor's eyes, and his scent has been tainted with the aftereffects of alcohol much more often than is usual for him.  *Oh, my friend,* I think, *we have hurt you, though we never intended to...*  And although such feelings are illogical, in truth I feel sadness.

I shall have to speak of this to Jim.  Human society has no equivalents, but among Vulcans, telepaths one and all, it is held a great wrong to arouse desires one does not intend to satisfy.  It is cruel and unethical -- and I cannot ignore my friend's pain, knowing as I now do that I have partly been the cause of it.

I glance toward the fresher, where Jim can now be heard splashing and tunelessly butchering some human song.   This is going to be an *interesting* conversation -- but there is Need. I only hope that Jim will understand and not feel hurt.    Even now, there is much about human sexual mores and customs that I do not understand.

A gentle sigh escapes me, as I rise and make my way to the fresher.  Perhaps a shared shower will provide an opportunity to broach what can only be a difficult subject.  I can only try. Now that I have felt Leonard's pain, I *cannot*  turn away.



                     Choices, Part 3                      

Jim:

It's incredible -- it just keeps getting better and better, the love that Spock and I share.  It's not just physical, the way it's been with so many of the other lovers I've had.  Maybe that's the difference.  He's so *giving*, so *loving*.   I've never known anyone like him -- anyone who trusted me so much that he would give himself over to me body and soul.  And I can feel it every time we make love.   That's Spock -- that's just what he does.

I love watching his face, the unguarded look of passion in his eyes when he loses that much vaunted Vulcan control.   He tries, how hard he tries, to maintain it -- a challenge to me, of course.  And he's so damned *beautiful* with his body flushed green, his eyes dark pools of need that draw me right in... in and over and down, down, down, into that special place where our minds and bodies join and become one.  He fills me; he surrounds me, and although I'm a long, long way from being a sexual babe in the woods, I get totally and completely lost in the magic and wonder of it all.  I still can't believe that it's *me* he loves-- but when I reach out with my thoughts, there he is...

Sometimes I'll be on the Bridge, and I'll look over at him where he's working so efficiently, and this quiet elation -- there are just no other words for how I feel -- will fill me at the thought of our Bonding.  It's amazing, incredible, wonderful, beyond belief, but it's *true*.  I'm his, and he's mine, for all time.  The Bond -- it's my security, my anchor in the storm.  I find myself reaching out in my mind time and time again.  He's always there -- warm, welcoming, loving, my t'hy'la, the other half of my self -- and I am content.

The shower after our loving feels terrific.  The only thing that would make it better would be if Spock joined me.  We've taken a couple pretty wild ones together; it's a good  thing these bulkheads are soundproof!  That superior strength of his, and his childhood in Vulcan's higher gravity, taught Spock a few tricks this Iowa farm boy won't forget in a hurry.   But Vulcans aren't aquatic animals like us humans.   He really does remind me of a cat, that way.

Well, I'm enjoying this shower for us both, hedonist that I am, singing at the top of my lungs in my admittedly pretty horrible excuse for a voice.  I always do this after we make love.  A ritual, I guess.  Just like Spock always lies on my bed waiting for me to come out of the fresher.  And the way he looks at me sometimes...  It makes me hard all over again, and all I can do is love him until I can't get it up anymore, and  then we fall asleep in each others' arms.

Just thinking about him waiting for me, lying there in all his naked splendor, makes me hard.  I'm just reaching to turn the water off, when I feel him join me.

Something's wrong.  Don't ask me how I know.  I just do. Intuition, Spock would call it.  Gut instinct, I say.  Yeah, something's wrong.  Spock's arms around me are just as loving. The feel of his body against mine is just as warm, but I *know*. We wash each other, hands gentle, loving, but something is different from when we made love just minims ago.  My friend, my love, is tense.  Something's on his mind.  I long to reach for the security of our Bond, but I know that whatever is troubling my friend, he'll tell me in his own time, in his own way.  I must be patient, and patience is not one of my virtues.

We're almost dry; neither of us is making any pretense of normalcy now.  Spock knows that I've picked up on his tension, and finally he says, "Jim, we must talk."



                        Choices, part 4                         

Leonard:

Spock knows all right.  No two ways about it.  It's his body language that's confusing me.  Is that why I agreed to  this harebrained idea of having dinner with the two of them in  Jim's cabin?  Uh, uh.  It's 'cause I wanna know what's up besides me every time I so much as think of them.  Today in Sickbay, when he leaned toward me -- did that mean what I want it to mean?  Or is it just wishful thinking on my part?  He says he wants to talk about the research I've been doing on the specimens the last landing party sent up, and I'm sure we will.  But, dammit, I wouldn't be human if I didn't hope what happened in two cabins last night wouldn't go on in one tonight.

I can't think about all that now.  It's early morning and I've got a sickbay to run.   At least I'm not hung over, though I must admit to being a bit on the tired side.   It really is true what they say about Vulcan stamina, and Jim isn't far behind.    Me, I'm just an ol' country doctor.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that something last night alerted Spock that I was along for the ride.  It was the only practical, logical, choice I could make at the time.   And I never thought they'd find out!

They?  Yeah, they.  What Spock knows, Jim knows, and Jim's none too happy about it.  He usually stops by  Sickbay himself at least once a day to check on the crew's health.  Today, he called from his Ready Room.  His body  language and the abrupt way he ended our conversation said it all, none of it good.

I hurry to my quarters at shift's end.  Sinking onto my bed, elbows on knees, face in my hands, I am overcome by  remorse. *Physician do no harm.*  I've lived by this precept most of my adult life, and the thought that I've violated this dictate, no matter how inadvertently, rocks me to my very  core.

I go through the motions of preparing for dinner -- sonic shower, change into civvies -- on auto-pilot.  All the while, my mind worries over my upcoming dinner with Jim and Spock. They'll never believe me if I come right out and say I value them as friends, respect them and love them, not now.  I've always respected both men for their abilities, their integrity, their loyalty to each other and the crew.  I've been proud and honored to call them friend and to know they name me friend in return.   We've risked our careers, our very lives, for each other over the years we've served together.

"Ah, Len," I sigh, "Why'd ya have to go love 'em?  Just goes to show there's no fool like an old fool."  I've intruded enough of myself into their lives.  This, I'll keep to myself.

Which means I've gotta be pretty damned careful at dinner tonight.  I'm not looking forward to this.  I've seen people go up against Jim and Spock before, and they *always* lose.   What Jim doesn't get with that quicksilver intelligence and gut instinct of his, Spock picks up on with his relentless logic.

We do have to talk this out, get through it.  Still -- I'd be damned sorry if this meant the end to friendships that've lasted for more years than I can remember.   Nothing's worth that.  If I can only walk away with that...  If somehow we can still be friends...  Yeah.  I could settle for that.  I'll have to.

So, here I am, outside Jim's door.  Somewhere inside my head, a little child is whimpering, "I wanna go home," but I quash it with the ringing of Jim's door chime.

The door slides open, and Jim is standing there, a smile on his lips, his hazel eyes looking troubled, a half filled wine glass in his hand.  "Come on in, Bones."



                        Choices, Part 5                         

Jim:

Well, when Spock told me I was not impressed, to  put it mildly.  Seems a touch voyeuristic, not sure I like that.  It's one thing to fall in love with your first officer, it's a completely different thing to include your CMO in some sort of threesome.

Spock's shown me what he saw, and looking back on it I can see all the signs he mentioned; the dark circles under Bones' eyes, the terseness of his conversations, how he's been   keeping himself to himself down there in sickbay.  Guess I was a bit too preoccupied with a certain Vulcan to see the signs.

Somehow I've let Spock talk me into having dinner, the three of us together.  Spock wants to talk to him, let him know we know. Spock feels responsible, some Vulcan thing about not arousing desires you don't intend to satisfy.  Trouble is, I think Spock is considering satisfying them.

Bones and I have been friends as long as me and Spock, well maybe one trip out and back less -- I seem to recall he joined us after our initial sortie.  But he's been a good friend to me, always there with a ready ear and a ready glass of something restorative.   It's always been easy to talk to him, too.  Having Spock for a friend wasn't easy in the beginning,  treading on Vulcan toes with conversational gambits.   Bones seems to take special delight in teasing Spock, and I think it's been a good thing over the years, forced Spock to consider that there might be other things to life than just rigorously following The Way. It might even be that gentle prodding from Bones that allowed him to accept my advances, once I realised just what I felt for him.

So here we are, the three of us, sitting down to dinner together in my quarters.   Spock's eating pasta with pesto -- it's an indulgence he only permits himself occasionally -- and Bones and I have real food, fried chicken, with a salad as a concession to Bone's idea of health.  Spock's about halfway through his, and we're discussing Bones' latest research project.  Well, Spock is discussing it, I'm just adding the occasional Um, maybe a yes, every now and then.

I'm able to take a good long look at Bones, now, and I tell you, he doesn't look good.   He won't meet my eye; if he does his glance just slides away again.  It's like he's feeling guilty and he would, too, it's just like him.  And he never looks at Spock, either.  His eyes keep skittering away, like a drop of water on a hot skillet.   Spock is drawing the conversation out of him like pulling teeth, painful and slow.

Spock's been sending me a quiet message; this telepathy thing's really getting stronger, the more we .... well, the closer we get.  Spock's going to make Bones an offer --   huh??!!  Yeah, I know we discussed this, but did I agree to it?    Spock asks me quietly to reconsider, and I agree, reluctantly, if only because he feels so responsible himself.  If it makes him happy.... Reconsider, just reconsider.  No promises, here.  But I never could resist him when he turns those dark eyes on me like that...  Even before we became lovers, I could never really turn him down, never stay mad at him for long.  I still can't...

There's a lull in the conversation, as Bones looks anywhere but at me or Spock.  My Vulcan pushes his plate away, and steeples his fingers.  "Leonard," he says quietly,  "Jim and I are aware of what occurred last night.  May I ask, how long has this been happening?"

Bones looks up guiltily, then down at his plate again. "Fourteen days, now." he replies, just as quietly.  I sense he knew this was coming.

I'm surprised, and Spock actually blushes.  I wonder if Leonard notices that faint green tide flooding his features, or if it's just me.  I can feel Spock's embarrassment, and then I suddenly remember the time he used the mind-link to fire every nerve-ending in my body, keeping me on the edge for so long, until I exploded...  Oh.   My.  I think I'm blushing, too.

Spock recovers first.  "I can only apologise, Leonard.  Jim and I did not mean to cause you discomfort.  If I had known that the link between us could be reactivated in this manner I would have..." he trails off.  Yeah, all he could have done was refuse me, and would he have done that?  He glances at me; at least he has the grace to look ashamed.  Of course he wouldn't have.

Bones' eyes are flicking between me and Spock.  He's not sure where this is leading.   There's something in his eyes...  what is it?  Guilt? -- maybe I'm reading too much into that one -- desire?

Now Spock begins to speak.  "I see that there are three options for you, Leonard.  Firstly, I believe I can sever the link permanently, using a mind meld.   At that time I can remove your memories of..... our joining."  Spock was never one to mince words, and I can only admire his bravery in continuing.  He looks at Bones, who is pushing bits of left-over salad around his plate.  The doctor doesn't lift his head, or acknowledge the first option.

Spock forges on, in that low, deep voice of his, like black velvet.  "Secondly, if you wish, it is possible to join both mentally and... physically, and use the power of... of... the ecstasy... to burn the link apart."  He pauses, as well he might after that suggestion.  Bones' head jerks up at that, and he's looking as stunned as I would be, to hear Spock actually voice this offer.  This is the one I'm prepared to go with, after heated discussions with a certain stubborn Vulcan.

Again no acknowledgement, so Spock continues.   "Thirdly, Jim and I... would be willing to accept you into our Bond, to be our t'hy'la."  This is the one I'm fighting against. Sure, I'm jealous, I'll admit it.  I don't want to share one jot of my Vulcan with anyone else.  Spock has assured me that it won't diminish what he feels for me, he'll just find more for Leonard. But I wonder if I can do the same.   I'd never considered Bones as someone to love before.  I think Spock's hiding something.  I think there's more to this than he's letting on.   But I don't *know*.  And dammit, Spock's the most honest man I've ever met in my life...

I don't want this.  Well, I didn't, before, when Spock  and I were arguing.   Now, I'm not so sure.  I can feel something coming from Bones, don't know what it is though.   Somehow it's all different now that he's here with us, somehow it feels stronger, connected....  I've got to be imagining things! Next I'll be thinking I'm a touch-telepath, like Spock!  But still...

I look at Bones.  For the first time, I really look at him. Not as my CMO, a member of my senior staff, but as a man, a desirable man.  He's smart as hell, great sense of humour, pours a good drink.  And right now he's vulnerable, hurting, lost, yeah, that's the word I was looking for before, he's lost.   Is it Spock and me that'll ground him?

He lifts his eyes to mine, waiting.  Hearing those words, the way Spock's just said them, I realise that option three doesn't sound too welcoming or positive.  Bones is looking at me still, and I can see the question in his eyes.  I want to reassure him, show him that I can be whole-hearted.  And I will, I really will.  If Spock helps...  I look over at my love, and his eyes, and his thoughts, reassure me that he will.

I reach out, then, and brush Bones' hand lightly with my own. "More than willing, Bones," I say.  He looks at us both,  and doesn't say anything.

Spock finally makes a decision.  After all, options 2 and 3 begin at the same place.



              Choices, part 6                   

Leonard:

I was right.  They know.  I was also right about Jim's not being happy, but for the wrong reason.

Yeah, I'd hoped the three of us would make love, wanted it so bad I could taste it, but the offer of a Bonding was something I never expected in my wildest dreams.  So, why aren't I jumping at the chance?  I've been watching Jim through dinner, that's why, even though he thinks I've been too busy feeling guilty or something.  Learned that from my Momma.  I swear that lady had eyes in the back of her head.   Us kids couldn't get away with nothing.  She'd always know  what we were doing even if she wasn't looking right at us.   Comes in handy in my line of work.

As for Jim, he looks the same way he does when he's gotta take his annual Star Fleet physical and psych eval on the same day. *Real* thrilled, if ya take my meaning.  I can't say as I blame him, either.  He finally finds the love he's been searching for all his adult life, then someone else wants in.

And there's Spock.  What motivates him?  Guilt 'cause I got caught up in their passion?  That's no reason to invite a man, no matter how good a friend, into your Bond.  I think the best thing for me to do is tell Spock to break the link, erase all my memories of their loving and have done with it.  But it can't be Spock.  I don't want him to touch me *that* way.  If he touches me he'll know how I feel.   Then Jim will know and...  I can't allow *that*.  I'm damned if I'm going   to be that vulnerable to them.

I'm not sure what Jim sees in my face, what it is that makes him reach out, cover my hand with his. "Forgive me,  old friend," he says, his voice gentle.   "I've been...  preoccupied.  You understand."

"Sure thing, Jim."  I try to pull my hand away, but his fingers tighten around my wrist.

"So, what's it to be, Bones?  Two or three?"

I force myself to take a deep breath.  "I choose one, but my way.  I want a Vulcan healer to perform the mind meld, not Spock.  Just a precaution so's there's no surprises.  After all," I remind them when I see they're about to object, "none of us expected this link to be reactivated."

Jim shakes his head, a little sadly.  "Sorry, Bones.  I can't accommodate you there.  Spock's ethics and all that.  If  you're not willingly in the link, joined with us, he won't touch  me. And if you choose out, then until you're gone, no longer a part of us, he won't touch me."  He lifts his hands, palms up, smiling that little-boy grin, trying to win all the time.  "It looks like I lose.  And I don't have the patience of a Vulcan."

I hadn't thought of that.  But it's exactly the kind of  thing Spock would insist on.  "Well, dammit, Jim," I mutter.    "Put your hormones on hold for a few days.  It won't kill ya."

He leans forward, looking directly into my eyes, his stare compelling.  His hands are gripping mine again, where they rest on the table, his fingers encircling my wrists.   I can smell the cologne he's wearing -- a light, natural herb and spice mixture I ordered special from Georgia for his last birthday.  He grins at me, that lop-sided grin that always means he's up to something.  "Oh, it just might."   Now his smile is  tender, shy.  "I never thought I'd say this to anyone but  Spock."  He takes a deep breath, and I feel the fingers trembling around my wrists.  "I'm willing to learn to love you, Leonard McCoy."

I can only sit there staring at him, my heart pounding  in my chest.

"I'm possessive by nature, jealous to a fault.  The thought of sharing Spock with *anyone* scares me senseless.   So the first time I see someone even look at you like they're interested, I'll probably want to hit first and ask questions later. That's just the way I am.  Knowing that, Bones, what choice do you make now?"

I am still unsure.  I don't know how Spock feels, and I don't know how to find out.

Finally, Spock takes matters, and me, in hand.



                        Choices, Part 7                         

Jim:

Spock rises gracefully to his feet. He's wearing that deep purple velvet robe that covers him from floor to head, even has a hood if he wants to go all Vulcan and hide in it.    Not tonight though, and I know, a fact that has kept me in a state of mild arousal all evening, that he is completely naked  under it.

He moves around to Bones, and gently pulls him out of the chair.  The doctor seems mesmerised by the Vulcan, their eyes lock together.  Unnoticed by them both, I stand also, and  begin to take my clothes off.  I can see where this is heading,   and I can hear Spock's gentle plea in my mind.

I let Spock unclothe Bones.  I remember well the exquisite eroticism of feeling those too-hot hands on my skin, the anticipation fizzing in my blood, the lethargy that is sometimes the other face of desire making me powerless to  move.  Bones is the same.  He stands still, moving only slightly as Spock draws the shirt over his arms, spreading his legs a little so that Spock can remove his trousers and shorts, lifting his feet out of his moccasins.  I can feel Spock's excitement rising, as is mine, fed by his, and by my own anticipation, a loop going back and forth between us.

Soon Bones is naked.  Gently Spock runs his hands up those long arms, across the chest, caressing the nipples briefly.  Bones is breathing faster now, and so am I.   He's in pretty good shape, considering he's about 12 years older than me; he must work out a lot. Or else he eats more salad.  Spock bends his head and kisses Bones briefly, just lips meeting.

Suddenly, it's more erotic than I can bear, watching these two, being naked myself.   I move up behind Spock, and reach across his chest for the hidden fastening.   The robe falls open, and I lift it off his shoulders, unwrapping him for Bones   like a present.  I see Bones' eyes drop to Spock's erection, his cock so large, so green.  It's a bit of a shock, the first time.  So like and yet so unlike.  I rub myself gently against Spock's body, letting him feel my arousal.   He reaches out to Bones again, and opens the link.

His hands caress Bones' shoulders, running lightly up his neck, and I can feel the texture of his skin under my own hands. Bones can feel my cock rubbing against Spock's thigh, and he groans out loud, as I do.  I reach up and stroke Spock's chest, tangling my hand in the mat of fur, pulling it lightly in the way I know he likes.  I feel his pleasure in my mind, and I know Bones feels it too.  Then Bones reaches forward, and his hand covers mine.  He moves my hand over Spock's chest, ohhh, this feeling, all of us feeling everything.  He steps closer to Spock, and now I can feel the heat of his breath on Spock's chest, feel the way it stirs the hair over his/my nipples, feel his mouth close over the nub of flesh, hot, wet, teeth biting gently.  My nipples ache as they slide across Spock's back.   I groan aloud and press closer against the hot skin, as if I could satisfy myself by crawling inside his flesh.  Spock lowers his mouth to Bones' again, and this time he traces the outline of the doctor's lips with his tongue, sucking at the lower lip, learning the difference between one human and the other. <Leonard's lips are softer than yours> he sends briefly, and I can feel it for myself, and know that it's true.

I lean forward and nuzzle Bones' neck, licking the skin there gently, nipping it, then turn my head and suck at Spock's neck, then up to lick at the sensitive ears, down again, then once more to kiss and lick at Bones' neck.  Spock gently pushes his tongue into Bones' mouth, tasting this different human, then lifts his head and turns to nuzzle me.   Our mouths meet, and cling, tongues thrusting deep, the familiarity reassuring, seeking and finding the ready passion.  Still he strokes Bones, then lowers one hand to brush lightly against someone's cock. Is it mine or is it Bones'?  I groan into Spock's mouth.  He lifts his head, to turn once again, and kiss Bones in the way he has just kissed me, kindling that fire with his strength. <He is slower to rouse than you, my t'hy'la,> he sends, with almost clinical detachment.

Finally he straightens, and moves a little back from us. "Come" he says, and turns.  At that instant Bones and I look at each other, our faces split by the same grin at the innuendo. "Oohh, I hope so," I say, and he almost laughs. 

Spock casts a glance at us over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised, and sends <*Two* humans...>, his mindvoice tinged with gentle exasperation.  I think the humour has lightened the situation a bit, though.  We follow him.

Bones hangs back a bit as he sees the bed.  "I... uh, I've never, uh... done this before.  Just how... what do I... we  do?"

Spock looks at him, then at me, considering, but I know he doesn't really have to stop and think.  There are really only two answers.  He lifts the corner of his mouth in that smile I see so rarely, and says, "Leonard, it is really a question of mathematics.  I suggest we start with triangles, and move on to parallel lines."   I can sense Bones' hesitation.  I'm only getting fuzzy pictures from him, Spock hasn't yet deepened the link, but he does so now.  He places his hands on the meld points, then moves a little here, a touch there, and I can feel it all now.   Migod, is this what it's like for him?

Spock has always called the chaos of my thoughts the "golden tangle" and I see what he means.  I've got used to the pure logic of Spock's mind, the way his thoughts run in channels, the razor-sharp intelligence processing, filing and discarding information at lightning speed.  Bones' thoughts are... blue? mercurial, shifting, processing, chaotic, and underneath all the emotions are pouring in waves like a tide, euphoric, depressed, unsure, focussed, constantly changing, flowing in and out... <Is this what *mine* are like?> I send to Spock, slightly aghast, wondering how he puts up with it, and he caresses  me over the link, reassuring.

<Indeed,> he responds, <like, but not like also.  There  is more fire in your mind, more certainty, more... passion. Leonard has more... tenderness? is that the word I am looking for?>  I sense what he means, he shows me a particular thread.   Oh this man's mind is beautiful, and vulnerable, and ..... Spock  moves to stop me, sensing that Bones is losing his determination.   He pushes Bones onto the bed, and the doctor lies stiffly, unsure.  Both Spock and I are sending reassuring thoughts, and suddenly I am filled with heat.  I know what is going to happen, and I can't wait any more.  I want this so much it's  becoming painful.   Spock takes my desire and amplifies it to Bones, and he moves his hips unconsciously on the bed, inviting.   Now Spock lies across the foot of the bed, and I lie across the head, my groin at the level of Bones' face.  Spock and I adjust our positions, then he raises his leg so that I can  place my head on the pillow of his thigh.  Bones follows suit, as do I, and Spock begins.

His tongue licks up Bones' cock from base to tip.  I can feel this, but I cannot see, as I close my eyes and take Spock's beautiful cock into my mouth.  Bones hisses in pleasure, not knowing whose pleasure he is feeling.  Then he licks me, tentative at first, then with relish.  Ohhhh, he's so talented for a beginner, it's hard to think.   And so we go, all three, the different pressures of tongues and lips and cheeks, the gentle graze of teeth, the tightness of suction, the pleasure building and building amongst us.  Oh, this is amazing, how all three of us can feel everything, amplified threefold, ohhh godddd, ohhh godddd I can't last I can't last ohhh, so deep, so hot, so wet, soooo.... ohhhhh, I feel his toes tense, his belly and balls tighten, and he comes deep into Spock's throat, head thrown back.  He has dropped me as he groans deep and long in ecstasy, he pumps out his seed then sucks voraciously at me again, and it is my turn.  I come, screaming, then suck again at Spock, my tongue swirling around the head of his cock.  The orgasms flow from Bones to me and into Spock, who comes now, and the hot Vulcan juices pour into my mouth as he writhes in multiple orgasm, passing it on to me and Bones, and it moves through us all again, as we grip each other and cry out loud.

Finally it passes, and we lie spent, in this ridiculous position.  Spock moves first, sliding up Bones' body until their mouths can connect, and they kiss deeply, trading flavours, sharing the aftermath of passion.  I slip down beside Spock, and now it is our turn to kiss and taste and moan softly.

We rest, sated for the moment.  We are one, enjoying the warmth, the intimacy, the connection.  Bones sleeps.

I must have slept briefly too, for when I wake Spock has slid downwards and is sucking gently at Bones' balls.  I feel the hot mouth as if he suckled at me, and moan softly, thrusting my hips forward involuntarily.  Bones does too, and wakes himself. Spock takes the doctor's stiffening member in his hand, milking it to hardness, and my erection hardens as if Spock is stroking me too.  Spock stops briefly, wringing a moan from Bones, and reaches to find the small bottle on the shelf above the bunk. He liberally oils his hand, then leaves the bottle in reach on the floor, uncapped.   Always prepared, my Vulcan.  He resumes his position, tonguing Bones' balls gently, and both Bones and I moan in pleasure.  One hand resumes its rhythmic stroking of his cock, then he carefully slips one well-oiled finger into Bones' body.   Ohh, the delicious sensation, so familiar to Spock and me, so surprising to Bones!   But our delight excites him, and I can feel the heat building amongst us, all three.  <Me!> I urge, and Spock stops again, for as long as it takes him to pour more oil into his other hand.  Then he reaches for Bones' hand, and twines his fingers with Bones', oiling them generously.  He reaches again for Bones' cock with a slippery hand, and slides a second finger inside him.

Bones' hips thrust forward, then back onto Spock's  fingers, and I can feel it all, feel the heat and the delicious tension, and I want it too, I want to be part of it, and I am urgent, begging with my voice and my mind, and finally Bones gets the message.  I feel his fingers, gentle, tentative, then firmer as he feels what Spock is doing to him and then he does it to me. Ohhh yes, this is what I want, but more, more, I want to be *fucked*.  Spock slides up behind Bones, takes  his hips in that firm grip, twists him just so, thrusting forward, and then his cock is entering me and *yes* this is it, ohhh gods, yes, hard, harder, now, yes, now, now, now.  Then Spock enters Leonard, enters Bones, enters me and we are all fucking and fucked, all three, crying out.   I can feel everything, and I want to laugh aloud, to scream, I can't take it, this ecstasy, this delicious pain, this knife-edge of pleasure, I can't I can't I can't, ohh, gods, I want it to go on forever.   And the rhythm is being lost, becoming ragged, urgent, so urgent.  I am Spock fucking Leonard, Bones fucking Jim, being fucked who am I who am I am all, I am all, I drown I am lost I *aaaahhhhhh*............

-----///-----

Well.  I think I am the first to wake but since I can't move I can't tell.

<Spock?> I send, hazily.

<T'hy'la,> he responds with concern, <Are you all right?> and I send back the wave of love that washes through me at that concern.

<Did I imagine that or was it three times more amazing...?> I manage to ask, and exhausted by my efforts I sink back into langour.

<Mmmmmm.> he replies, sleepily. 

And I send back <That's an explicit response for a Vulcan!>. He laughs gently in my mind.  It is not something he does often, even in the privacy of my mind, and I can tell that he is as relaxed and sated as a cat on a hot afternoon.   Mmm...   He isn't the only one.

<Leonard?> he queries.

<Doesn't seem to be here....> I reply, and we are silent, waiting.

Then comes the third voice, the voice that was silent amongst the chaos, the voice that can now speak through the new forged link.  <Jim?  Ah, Spock?  Unnhh, what happened?>

<We did,> I reply, human to human.  <We happened.>

<Oh god> he says, as explicit as my Vulcan, and I send them both my laughter as I turn to face him.  I see Bones,  Leonard; I gaze into those blue, blue eyes.  

I kiss him, smoothing his hair, stroking his face, feeling the softness of those full lips, then I draw back.  "Do you still want out?" I ask softly, knowing the answer already, and seeing the consternation in his blue eyes as he realises that I already know, the amazement as he senses the tendrils of Spock's mind in his.

Did Spock know, I wonder?  Did he know that once we three had all tasted each other, known the ecstasy of the body and the siren call of the mind, that it would be impossible to give up?



                         Choices, part 8                          

Spock:

When I awaken, I am not at first sure what time it is.  I look about me.  *Both* my humans are here with me, asleep, curled up on either side of me.  I did not need blankets last  night; now I remember why.

Both my humans.  So strange, that sounds, yet it is the truth.

I have never imagined sharing something like this with more than one person.  I can only hope that I have read them correctly, for I find the thought of losing this closeness with either to be quite unpleasant.  If that is their desire, I shall of course comply.  But I cannot deny hoping that they will want this as much as I do.

My feeling toward Leonard is not quite the same as that between Jim and I.  With Leonard, it is as if I look in a dark mirror -- the link between us is one of identity, the remnant of the service he once did for me.  The ghosts of our  common pain, years gone, now.  Only, I see about him what he does not. Leonard sees himself as too thin, too old -- which is illogical, he is only a few years older than either of us -- too emotional...  I see, rather, a slim dark man whom I must admit, I find attractive.   I see one of the two closest friends I have ever had in my life.

With Jim, on the other hand, it is the attraction of opposites, the Fire we make together.   The way that he destroys my defenses with a single, smouldering look, from across the room.  The things that he does to me, with those knowing fingers of his... We burn each other up, on sight.   We have from the beginning. But I value both men highly.  If I had to put it in human terms, I would have to say, I love them both.

And why not.  It would be illogical to deny what is true, would it not?  And I have known for years that there is nothing for one like me on Vulcan.  It is why I left in the first place.

I feel it, when Leonard awakens.  I feel it, as he realizes all over again that he is not dreaming, that this really is happening, has happened...  He looks up, and in those blue eyes I see the answer to one of my own questions, and I reach for him, and draw him into a morning kiss.  This is a thing I have learned from Jim.  I find it most enjoyable, and soon enough I can tell that Leonard does also, as he pokes me in the thigh.

I reach down and stroke him, gently, knowing what the heat of my hand will do to him -- Jim is the same way.  Something about the difference in our temperatures undoes him, every time.

To me, humans feel pleasantly cool, something we do not have much of, on Vulcan -- but something that we greatly prize.   And now Jim is waking up, and reaching to caress me, and I  cannot help the gasp that escapes me.

A sudden surge of motion, and I am surrounded by wide awake, very aroused humans.  I reach for them both, and pull them to me; once more, we seem to melt together, in body and   mind, till none can tell whose hand touches whose cock, strokes whose flanks, pinches at whose nipples...  We are all wrapped up together.  I am between someone's legs, thrust deep into cooler human flesh; I am on my belly writhing from the fire within;  I reach, to take a cock into my mouth, even as I take myself in hand...

Ahhh...  It is exquisite, what we share together.  I am undone, overwhelmed, drowning in a flood of sensual pleasure.  I cry out, all of us cry out, trembling, straining...  Faster we move, and faster still, three-made-one, one giant mass of need and Fire and pleasure and...

Ah!  I cannot hold on any longer.  I am burning up; out of control, blazing like the sun...  I freeze, deep inside the body of my lover, head thrown back; burning liquid heat fills me, the cock in my mouth jerks, spasms -- and my hands finally bring me over the edge...  Ahh!

For a time I do not think; I simply float, in a sea of pleasure, content merely to exist.   When I finally open my eyes, I find twin pairs of human eyes gazing at me, identical expressions on two human faces.  My humans.  The golden and the dark; my lovers.

And I am content, for now I know.  We are one.   Parted but never parted; never and always touching and touched.  We are One.

-----/end/-----

Submitted for your approval, on behalf of all 3 of us,

Greywolf the Wanderer