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Chapter Text

Spock's hands were tied behind him, but not tightly enough to lose circulation. He estimated he had over six hours before there would be any notable damage to his physical body.

He had less than a two percent chance of being able to escape, especially with the sword held at the back of his neck.

Not that there was anywhere to escape.

The three other bridge officers were standing against the wall and were being lightly monitored by a woman holding a phaser.

“Kirk, it’s Sulu. I have Pike,” the man holding the sword said. 

Spock had done his best but had only been 61% sure that it would be Captain Kirk of the Farragut to commandeer the Enterprise. Spock would have to examine the emotions he was having — namely, relief and pride for a final order completed as commanded — at a later time. 

“Mr. Sulu,” Spock said. 

“Pardon?” Sulu said, sounding confused. 

“Mr. Sulu, I am not Captain Pike,” Spock said. 

“Who the hell are you then?” Sulu said. 

“I am Captain Spock,” Spock said for the first and, likely, last time. 

“Kirk isn’t going to like this at all,” the woman holding the phaser said. 

Spock’s head was turned to the side as Kirk strode in, an alpha, of course. “Where’s Pike?” he asked Sulu.

“Sir, just figuring that out,” Sulu said. “This is a Captain Spock.”

Spock kept his voice even, his emotions in check. “Captain Pike is dead. Radiation poisoning.” Pike had saved everyone on the ship when he single-handedly repaired the warp core. He could not get the ship back to warp capability, but he had kept the ship from exploding.

Kirk’s shoulders fell, not at all like a conquering Starfleet captain. “And you’re the new captain?”

“Yes, I was Captain Pike’s science officer.”

“There’s no Spock listed as a crewmember of the Enterprise,” Kirk said.

“I would assume that I am not listed because I am not a Starfleet recruit. Captain Pike rescued me from an evacuation pod when I was 16 years old.” Pike had also decided not to include Spock on any roster so no one would know there was a Vulcan on his ship.

Indeed, Pike had saved Spock’s life twice.

Kirk pushed the button on the loudspeaker on the wall. “Enterprise, this is Captain Kirk speaking, your new captain. We will only kill those who resist. Everyone will be present in the cafeteria in ten minutes. Do not come armed.” 

Kirk squatted down next to Spock but did not touch him. “You didn’t choose the airlock before I got here, so you can choose lashes from Admiral Nero, or I will put you on the Farragut as an outcast. I’m going to be honest with you: I’m going to strip her for parts so I can get the Enterprise back to warp capability, but I’ll leave life support and hide her in the asteroid field.” 

Marooning was a generous offer — one not offered by Nero — but Spock knew Kirk’s reputation well enough to know it was sincere. “I choose submission,” he said clearly, his heart beating rapidly, despite his best effort to control it.

“Fuck,” Kirk spat, although it did not seem that he was trying to make a pun or any other sort of wordplay. He clicked a button on his comm. “McCoy, bridge, now,” he barked.

Kirk stood and stared at the view screen. Spock had missed a variable in his calculations, but what?

A man walked in, brown hair, omega, looking angry. McCoy, Spock was 70% sure. Spock had not seen an omega in over a year, not since Pike had ordered the omegas on the Enterprise to relocate to a refugee planet.

Kirk spoke. “Pike’s dead. The former captain asked for submission.” 

The man’s face didn’t hold any emotion back, and he looked angry to upset in a few seconds. “Fuck,” he repeated, also like he was not trying to any sort of wordplay. 

Kirk squatted near Spock's head again. “I’m bonded to an omega, McCoy.” He gestured at the brown-haired man. “You didn’t know I was bonded, so I will make the original offer again.”

The offer offered again was a kindness — perhaps a weakness — that few captains would show. Kirk repeated it, not that Spock would have forgotten. “Lashes from Nero or I leave you on the Farragut, and you’ll have a few months to find a way to a refugee planet.”

Spock did not want to repeat himself, but it seemed like he would have to do so. “I choose submission.” 

“Everyone out, head to the cafeteria,” Kirk called out. “We’ll be down there in ten with Spock’s decision,” he said as if Spock had not already made clear his choice two times. The rest of the two crews left, leaving Kirk, McCoy, and Spock.

As the door swished shut, McCoy started angrily whispering at Kirk. “No one chooses submission, especially from an omega. It’s a goddamned trick.”

“If you don’t want to do it, you’re going to have to put him in the airlock,” Kirk replied. 

“I’m not going to kill a man tied up and asking for submission,” McCoy said.

“You knew when we bonded that it was always going to be a possibility,” Kirk said. He looked down at Spock. “Have you done this before?”

“I am not sure what this you are asking about. I have not, obviously, offered submission previously.” 

“You ever had a dick in your ass before?” McCoy asked crassly and matter-of-factually. 

“No,” Spock said. 

“Last chance,” Kirk said. “Once McCoy fucks you in front of every single member of both of our crews, you’ll belong to us and Admiral Nero. Forever.”

“I am aware of the protocol. I choose submission.” 

Kirk and McCoy shared a look that Spock did not understand, nor would anyone outside their relationship, Spock suspected. 

Pike’s final command to Spock was his final words, moments before he went to repair the warp core. “Go to the coordinates we discussed this morning. I hope it’s the Farragut, I pray it’s the Farragut,” — and Pike was not a religious man — “and you will submit to Captain Kirk.” He cupped Spock’s cheek with his hand, and Spock reached out with a meld instinctively, but Pike was only thinking of a page in a novel, the last page he would ever read.

Pike dropped his hand and walked away. He turned at the door. Spock thought he might say that he was proud of Spock, or perhaps he cared for Spock. But Pike had just repeated himself. “Submit to Kirk.” The door slid shut as Pike walked boldly and bravely to his death. The ship was repaired enough that it would not explode, and Pike was dead a few hours later, his body left to float in space forever.

“You gotta be naked for this, so I’m going to cut off your clothes,” McCoy said. “Then I’m going to lube my fingers and put them up your ass so I don’t injure you.”

Spock was not sure of the exact protocol when an alpha asked for submission, but McCoy seemed to be attempting to be considerate. 

Or not damage his property. 

McCoy pulled out a medical-grade laser cutter from his bag and deftly started cutting Spock’s clothing. Spock’s boots were tossed to the side, his socks pulled off, and his pants and shirt cut down the back, the laser cutter making a slight hum as it worked. The air was cold on Spock’s skin as McCoy removed his clothing, piece by cut-up piece.

The beep of a tricorder let Spock know that McCoy was likely checking him for anything that could be an issue with penetrative intercourse. He could refuse the tricorder, but only until McCoy took ownership of him. As soon as that happened, Spock would not be allowed to refuse anything from Kirk or McCoy ever again.

“How long have you been starving yourself?” McCoy said.

That was not what Spock expected McCoy to say. “I have been at 85% of my baseline caloric needs for two months, three weeks, one day.”

“Did Pike do that to you?”

“Of course not,” Spock said. “When it became clear that we might not be able to access materials for the food replicators, Pike asked those who were medically able to change to 95% of their caloric needs. I chose fewer calories because my body is more adaptable.”

McCoy made a noise that Spock did not know how to interpret. McCoy returned to unclothing Spock. Spock did not resist; he would submit the way Pike had ordered him to, even if Pike had not known that Kirk was bonded to an omega.

“Have you previously put your penis in anyone’s anus?” Spock asked. It was known that alphas always did the penetrating and omegas were always penetrated, which was why an alpha captain submitting to an omega was the most humiliating moment in an alpha’s life.

McCoy snorted. “Yeah, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.”

Spock’s underwear was sliced, the laser cutter uncomfortably close to his testicles and penis.

“Bring McCoy’s duffel to the cafeteria,” Kirk said into his comm. 

McCoy last used the laser cutter on the ropes around Spock’s wrists and ankles. Spock was not sure if he was allowed to move and remained still. 

“You’re gonna have to let me in,” McCoy said, touching Spock’s knees. “The more relaxed you can be, the better this’ll go.” 

Spock allowed McCoy to push his right knee out, leaving his anus and testicles exposed. McCoy’s hands were warm on his legs, and Spock had to stop himself from following the meld.

McCoy did not waste any time. “Ready?” he asked.

Spock nodded once.

A cold, slippery finger circled his anus five times. No one had ever touched Spock there, and he found he did not mind the sensation. McCoy’s finger then slid up Spock’s anus and into his rectum. Spock instinctively fought the intrusion. He attempted to get himself under control; Pike had ordered Spock to do this, and Spock would complete Pike’s final orders as thoroughly and perfectly as he had completed every other order from Pike. 

McCoy did not chastise or punish him — yet — but gave Spock a moment to calm himself. Spock took a deep breath around the finger that was penetrating him. 

Pike had offered — once — after he had been drinking. “You’re better than any omega,” he slurred. He cupped Spock’s cheek with his hand, touching Spock for the first time in years, his lust for Spock traveling through his hands.

Spock on his knees for Pike, his mouth open, waiting for Pike to ejaculate on his face. Spock spreading his legs and showing his most intimate areas to Pike. Spock on top of Pike, moaning as Pike thrusts his penis into Spock's anus.

Spock was so overwhelmed with Pike's most private and secret thoughts about him that he lost control of his emotions and gasped in surprise.

“Sorry,” Pike said, snatching his hand back. “I get these strange thoughts when I've been drinking replicated tequila. Doesn't have to mean anything.”

“Of course,” Spock said. “I should return to my quarters.”

“I'll see you on the bridge in the morning,” Pike replied, not getting up to walk Spock to the door.

A few weeks later, Pike had given his life for his crew — for Spock — and they never had the chance. 

It was illogical to wish the past was different, and wishing would not change what was happening now, but nevertheless, Spock illogically wished that he and Pike had, that Pike had been the first person to know Spock sexually.

McCoy added another finger, and Spock felt not pain, but not pleasure either, and he kept his shields up to keep his and McCoy’s minds from touching. He breathed deep again, and McCoy murmured, “That’s right, you’re doing fine, you’re gonna be ok.” 

McCoy kept working his fingers and more lubricant into Spock, gently pulling on his anus to stretch it open until Kirk’s comm dinged.

“They’re ready for us,” Kirk said.

McCoy took his fingers out, and his hands — Spock shielded again — pulled Spock into standing.

McCoy stared at Spock’s penis, which was somehow slightly erect. Spock wished he were allowed some modesty.

“Does your dick work like a human dick?” is what McCoy asked. He pulled a silver flask from his medical bag.

“From what I have researched in textbooks, yes.”

“Alright.” McCoy drank the contents of the flask in a few swallows. Kirk glared at McCoy as he drank. McCoy wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand.

Making Spock walk of his own accord and not tied up was its own form of submission, Spock realized. He had walked onto the bridge that morning as captain of the Enterprise, and he was walking off the bridge naked and the property of the new captain’s omega. 

Kirk and McCoy did not know where to go, so Spock led them to the cafeteria from the side door. A table was set up in the front. 

“Chest on the table, spread your legs,” McCoy said into Spock’s ear. “Let’s get this over with.”

Spock had an illogical urge to run, but there was nowhere to run. He had made his choice. He looked at the crowd. His crew — the 27 of them that were left — were kneeling in front. They all appeared uninjured; no one had fought. It had been Spock’s last order as captain. Around double that number stood behind them, Kirk's crew, a large number for Kirk, who had been a captain for slightly less than a year.

The cafeteria was still emptier than not, even with the two combined crews. 

Spock walked to the table and lay across it, the wood cold on his bare skin. He spread his legs for McCoy, as ordered. 

If anyone was surprised, they did not show it on their faces.

Kirk stood to the side of the table and spoke loudly enough that the gathered crews could hear him clearly. “I am Captain Jim Kirk, and I take the Enterprise in Admiral Nero’s name to advance his purposes,” he said. “You are all now my crew, and I will treat you as such. I offered the defeated alpha captain the options as outlined by Admiral Nero, and he chose submission. My bonded omega partner, Leonard McCoy, will now take ownership of the alpha.” 

At that, a few of Spock’s crew did let emotion change their expressions. Spock could not always understand human facial expressions, but he concluded that he saw surprise, anger, and sadness. It seemed that he was not the only one who did not know that Kirk was bonded to an omega. Surely Pike had not known, or he would not have told Spock to submit to Kirk.

Approximately three years ago, early in his position as Admiral, Nero had instituted the policy that captains who surrendered would either be sent to him for a lashing and be eligible to serve on a ship again or they could offer submission to the victorious captain — or the victorious captain’s bonded omega — and become the new captain’s property and give up their right to ever serve again. Most captains would rather die fighting than chose from those options, a level of aggression that Admiral Nero encouraged.

McCoy stepped forward between Spock’s legs. “I am Leonard McCoy. Captain Kirk is my bonded alpha. I will now take ownership of the former captain. From this time until his death, he will belong to Captain Kirk and me in all matters, legal and personal.”

Spock felt something large and blunt at his anus and a hand resting on his lower back. Spock turned his head away from the crews. He closed his eyes and tried to go within himself so he could meditate. In doing so, he lost the shield he had put between himself and McCoy, and everything from McCoy's side rushed into Spock’s head. 

You’re a dead man walking, Leo, one more thing ain’t gonna matter.

Distantly he could feel McCoy’s penis slowly pushing through his anus and into his rectum. Spock tried to relax around the intrusion as McCoy had suggested.

Naked and cold. Hands tied painfully over his head. Legs kept apart with a rigid pole tied at his ankles. 

Spock moved away from that memory. The lubricant McCoy had applied was working as intended and McCoy’s penis was far up his rectum with no injury. Spock moved around McCoy’s head as McCoy’s penis thrust into him. 

Come on, Leo, just get it over with, you've fucked Jim a million times, one more ass ain't gonna change a thing.

Spock dove further into McCoy's mind. 

An operating room … Kirk, younger than he was now, laughing … a little girl on a swing yelling higher! higher! … Kirk whispering, “We’re going to have to take the Enterprise.” 

Spock was wrenched back into his body as McCoy took his hands off Spock’s back to take his penis out of Spock and that must be McCoy’s ejaculate, hot and wet on Spock’s anus. He turned his head back to his crew. His former crew.

Spock was now McCoy’s property. 

“Uh, the nurse,” Kirk called out. “Christine Chapel.”

Chapel stood from where she had been kneeling. She walked behind Spock, and he used all his training to keep his legs spread for her examination. 

McCoy pulled his pants up and retucked his shirt. He leaned on the table next to Spock’s head and put his hand possessively on the back of Spock’s neck.

Thank god that's over.

A small, gloved finger easily breached him, his anus giving no resistance after accepting McCoy’s penis. Spock knew this was the better option, better than parading every single crew member to check his anus for the sign that he had submitted. His mind, however, was not able to convince his body that this was indeed the better option. 

The nurse is doing a good job under pressure. It will be nice to have another person in Medical. I wonder if she’s credentialed or became the go-to medical person after everyone else died.

The finger was removed. “I see the evidence of Leonard McCoy’s ownership of the submissive,” she announced. 

McCoy withdrew his hand from the back of Spock’s neck.

The watching crew did not react. 

Chapel threw the glove away and returned to her spot, kneeling at the front of the gathered crew. 

“Is Spock your first or last name?” Kirk asked quietly.

Vulcan naming customs differed from human naming customs, but Spock doubted Kirk wanted that information. “People call me Spock, and that is also the name I answer to,” Spock said, hoping he would not be given the lash for not answering a question directly.

Kirk spoke to the crowd. “Spock McCoy now belongs to my bonded omega Leonard McCoy, me, and by extension, Admiral Nero,” Kirk said, giving Spock his name with McCoy’s family name. Including his name was more than most submissives were given; however, using the omega’s family name was a further humiliation every time Spock would use it from now on, as everyone would know he had submitted to an omega.

Kirk continued. “As to the rest of you, you will all answer to me as your captain. Consistent with Admiral Nero’s directive, if you disobey my orders, you will be lashed for the first two offenses and put out the airlock on the third. The Enterprise requires immediate repairs to get her back to warp capability. We will move everything from the Farragut and get the Enterprise repaired. I hope to be underway in 24 hours. Montgomery Scott is the Chief Engineer and will divide you into teams. During these repairs, his word is as good as mine. McCoy is your CMO; everyone who needs a medical excuse will see him immediately.”

No wonder Kirk had bonded to McCoy; doctors tended to be omegas, and omegas were few and far between after almost three years of Nero’s Starfleet. The Enterprise’s former CMO, Dr. Joseph M'Benga, was an omega himself. He had taken his daughter and the majority of Pike’s crew, including all of the omegas, to a refugee planet slightly over a year ago. Pike had exploded a shuttle and marked them all as deceased, of course.

Spock remained where he was, waiting for Kirk or McCoy to give him permission to move, McCoy's ejaculate cooling on his anus and testicles.

Several of Kirk’s team stood and started calling out clear instructions, dividing Spock’s crew — former crew — into teams with Kirk’s crew. 

Someone brought a duffel bag and left it next to McCoy. McCoy unzipped it and pulled out clothes. “Put these on,” McCoy said gruffly. Not a uniform, of course, but plain clothes, a grey t-shirt, and black sweatpants.

Spock was relieved. It would have been well within McCoy’s right to leave him naked. On many ships, Pike had once told him, nakedness alone was a sign of being a submissive. Spock put on the shirt and pants, using the drawstring to tie the pants so they wouldn’t fall down his smaller frame, made thinner after rationing.

Violette De la Croix, an ensign, approached McCoy. “I have a medical situation,” she said, her voice trembling. 

Chapel was next to her, staring at McCoy, her lips tightly drawn. 

“Tell me,” McCoy said, pausing his actions to give her his full attention. 

“I’m twelve weeks pregnant,” she said. 

“Congratulations,” McCoy said, sounding sincere to Spock’s ears. McCoy pulled out a tricorder and scanned her. “Looks like you’re having some nausea. Your iron’s a bit low.” McCoy looked back at Violette. “No more rationing, especially for you. We have plenty of materials for the replicators, as soon as it's all transferred from the Farragut.” He glanced at his tricorder. “Would you like to hear the baby’s heartbeat?” he asked softly.

“Please,” she said.

He pointed the tricorder at her stomach, and a few seconds later, a quick psh-psh-psh came out of the speakers.

“That’s my little bean?” Violette asked, touching her stomach.

McCoy smiled at her. “Baby sounds perfect.” He looked at Chapel. “You’re the nurse?” 

She nodded. “Christine Chapel. I am the only member of Medical left.” 

“Anyone currently in the medbay?” 

“No,” she answered promptly. 

“Ok, we’ll all head to the medbay, and I’ll take a look at things. Violette will be under observation to get a baseline reading. You’ll be in charge of that.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Violette said, and Chapel nodded and flashed a smile at McCoy. 

“Spock, uh, follow us,” McCoy commanded.

Spock tried to walk like his anus and rectum had not had two sets of fingers and a penis in it for the first time minutes ago.

They walked up to the medbay together, Spock remembering to follow behind the other three. Spock’s body began shaking during the walk, and he attempted to bring his body into homeostasis. He remained near the nurse’s desk as McCoy walked around.

“Not bad,” McCoy said, returning to Chapel. “In a few hours, Kirk’s gonna start getting the Farragut’s medbay equipment and supplies moved over here. You’ll be in charge of getting everything organized.” 

He spoke to Chapel respectfully but with enough command that it was obvious he was used to people doing as he asked, when he asked. He was much like Pike in that manner. 

Chapel nodded and headed to the private exam room where Violette was waiting.

McCoy strode over and grabbed Spock’s chin with his hand. Spock instinctively reached out to meld with him, and he could not give McCoy his full attention. “Do not try anything. If you cause harm to Jim or any of my crew, you’ll wish you had chosen lashes. Do I make myself clear?” 

“I made the choice willingly and without treachery,” Spock said, his mind attempting to get into McCoy’s mind. 

McCoy let him go, the meld ending abruptly. “Lie down before you fall down,” he said, sounding cross. He walked into M’Benga’s office, slamming the door behind him.

Spock did not know if McCoy meant for Spock to lie on the floor or a biobed. He was 53% sure McCoy meant the biobed, so he walked to the closest bed and carefully sat on it. His anus felt … different. He rarely had reason to think about his anus, but it was not pain, at least. His body continued to shake despite his efforts.

Chapel walked over. “Are you ok?” she asked softly. “Kirk asked me to do the check, and I hoped you would be ok with it.” 

“You performed a good job under pressure,” Spock repeated.

She leaned forward and spoke very softly, his Vulcan hearing just able to pick out her words. “Do you have a plan?” 

“Yes, my plan was to offer my submission and remain with my crew in the only way I could,” he said, not willing to tell her that it was Pike’s final order to him. 

She smiled at him softly. “I’m glad no one died today. Captain Kirk seems ok. He didn’t sound like he’s going to start killing everyone.”

“Our combined crews remain below the minimum number of necessary personnel to crew this ship,” Spock said.

“Rest,” she said, and she did not touch him. She did not know that he was Vulcan and that Vulcans were touch telepaths, but after four years on the ship, people were habituated to not touching him. 

Spock’s emotions were quite distracting, and he closed his eyes and attempted to meditate as his body continued to shake.

He heard McCoy’s footsteps and reluctantly opened his eyes. Hopefully, McCoy would allow him respite during the traditional hours of slumber. 

McCoy was holding a blanket under one arm. Without asking — and, of course, McCoy never needed to ask again since Spock was his property — McCoy scanned him with the tricorder. He pulled out three hypospray cartridges and loaded the first one.

“I am not human,” Spock said.

“Yeah, your ears and dick gave you away,” McCoy said. “I pulled your profile from the Enterprise computer. I want you back to the levels from your previous scans. And what’s going on with your rut?”

“I do not understand your question,” Spock said, trying not to flinch away from McCoy and failing.

McCoy did not reprimand him. “Most species have rut on a regular basis. For instance, humans are usually twice a year. Your rut cycle is all over the place.”

No one had known what to do with Spock when he presented three years ago. Spock had been out of control, attempting to meld with Pike. M’Benga had forced Spock’s hand into a fist and used medical tape around his fingers to keep him from being able to open his hand and meld. Pike had told him later that having his hands taped had made his blood fever — Sarek’s words back when he had explained rut and heat to Spock — worse, and he would not remain in his room. M’Benga had locked him in a padded room while the blood fever ran its course. Spock did not know how much of that detail had made it into his medical file. “You are the physician, should you not tell me about my rut cycle?” he ventured.

McCoy rolled his eyes. He put the hypospray to Spock’s neck and pressed the button, then did that twice more.

Spock did not flinch.

McCoy closed the privacy curtain. “Lie down on your side,” he said. Spock carefully lay down and rolled away from McCoy. Was McCoy going to use his anus again so soon?

McCoy pulled the pants halfway down Spock’s thigh. Spock’s body continued to shake. Using a warm cloth, McCoy wiped the ejaculate that was on Spock’s anus and testicles, the cloth going farther into Spock’s anus than he was accustomed to.

“You look ok down there,” McCoy said as he pulled Spock’s pants back to his waist.

Spock rolled onto his back.

“I’ve told Chapel to make sure you eat. We’ll increase the amount little by little and have you back to your regular amount of calories soon.” He covered Spock with a heated medical blanket. Without saying anything else, he left for another area, leaving Spock alone. The warm blanket helped Spock’s body stop shaking.

Chapel made it over to Spock in 13 minutes, holding a tray with food. “Do you need a regenerator down there?” she asked.

“McCoy used his fingers,” — this was hard to say out loud and he felt his heartbeat speeding up as he attempted to say the words — “on my anus before inserting his penis into me. I believe the preparation should have mitigated any health concerns.” 

“Good,” she said. “There wasn’t any blood when I checked in the cafeteria. Do you want me to check again?” 

Spock had never wanted anything less in his entire 20.2 years. “No,” he said sharply. “If McCoy wants me healed or not healed, that is his prerogative and expertise as a physician.” And as Spock’s owner. 

“Ok,” she said. “I know you submitted, but anything you need, I’ll do my best.” 

Spock shook his head. “I appreciate your concern for my physical body, but for everyone’s safety, we must not speak like this again.”

“My offer stands. Always.” 

Spock felt emotions rising in his chest, and he breathed carefully to push them back down. “You are an exemplary nurse.”

Spock rested for a few more hours, Chapel checking him with a tricorder and recording how much he ate. One small emergency came into the medbay: a crew member had sliced a finger, and Chapel was able to heal the wound and send the crew member on his way. 

McCoy was sweaty and grimy when he came to collect Spock. “Come on,” he said. He looked around and pressed his comm. “Jim, where’s our room?” he said.

“I can show you the way to Pike’s former quarters,” Spock said. 

“Never mind,” McCoy said into his comm.

Spock led the way to the Captain’s quarters. Spock hadn’t been in there since Pike had made his offer — it was illogical, but Spock continued to wish that Pike had been his first, not McCoy — and he was somewhat relieved that Pike’s personal effects were piled in a corner. A few boxes labeled with McCoy’s name were stacked neatly in front of the wardrobe. 

“I'll talk to Jim about what you’re going to do on the ship. What did you do before you were captain?”

Before, as in when Pike was alive. “I was a science officer on the bridge.”

McCoy scoffed. “Well, you won't be doing that. Probably cleaning or laundry, that sort of thing. Normal shifts. I'm not gonna work you to death.”

“Will I be available to you sexually?” 

McCoy looked away. “Yeah, that’s what you signed up for.” He shook his head. “Jim offered to let you go, but you chose this. You’re the one who turned me and Jim into your owners, and now we gotta do what we gotta do, understand?”

The only thing Spock understood was that he was following orders from a dead man.

McCoy continued. “So, yeah, I’m gonna fuck you because I’m just as beholden to Nero as you are. Jim’s gonna fuck you, too, because either the crew sees us fucking you or they see us lashing you or Nero finds out and you won’t like anything Nero does to you. Jim and I don’t have any more of a choice in this than you. That reminds me.” 

McCoy slid his belt off, the black leather easily slipping through the loops of his pants. 

Spock tried not to panic. His body was no longer his own, of course, but he did not want his body to be injured. He would have taken the lashes from Nero if Pike had asked him, but he thought it unfair — even if that was illogical — to get lashed on the same day he had given his submission. He was attempting to do exactly as McCoy asked.

McCoy used the laser cutter to cut the belt in half. He stepped forward and placed the belt around Spock’s neck. The belt was still warm from McCoy’s body heat, and McCoy wrapped it snugly around the back of Spock’s neck. 

Oh, Spock was being collared without any ceremony. 

McCoy used the laser cutter to make a hole for the buckle, and then he buckled the belt at the back of Spock’s neck. 

“Lift your chin,” he said gruffly and used the laser cutter on the front of the collar. He finished with the laser cutter and tucked it into his medical bag. “Make sure that’s on whenever you leave this room.” 

“I understand,” Spock said. The collar was snug, but not tight enough to interfere with breathing. “Do you wish to make use of me sexually at this moment?” 

McCoy’s eyebrow rose. “No.” 

“May I take a shower?” 

“Yeah, you don’t have to ask about stuff like that,” McCoy said.

“Then I will take a shower.” Spock looked around. “Where will I sleep?” 

McCoy looked perplexed, and then like he understood the question. “The floor at the foot of the bed, I reckon.” 

Spock nodded. He did not mind the firmness of the floor — he preferred firm to the soft mattresses many humans preferred — but at the temperature of the room, his body would struggle to remain warm. He would need to meditate through the night in place of sleeping to keep his body at an optimal temperature.

“Your clothes already went out the airlock. Your stuff from your quarters is in those boxes,” McCoy said, gesturing at the stack of boxes labeled with McCoy. “You can pick a few things, but the rest will go into long-term storage. You’ll wear my clothes — not the uniform — and when the fabric replicator isn’t scheduled to make essential items, we’ll have some clothes made for you.” 

Spock focused on remaining grateful that he would be clothed for both temperature and modesty reasons. 

He walked into the bathroom and removed his — McCoy’s — clothes. He stood in front of the mirror and leaned forward to examine the collar. McCoy had used the laser cutter to etch his name into the leather. McCoy it said in small block letters, light brown lettering contrasting with the black of the collar. 

He should ask if he could remove the collar before showering.

McCoy entered the bathroom and stood behind him, looking at Spock’s face in the mirror. He unbuckled the collar for Spock, making it tight enough that Spock could barely breathe before loosening it. McCoy put it on the ledge over the sink. 

McCoy held up the lubricant to Spock’s reflection. “I’m going to check that you’re ok from before.”

Before, as in when McCoy put his penis into Spock. This is what Spock had agreed to, although lashes now seemed like a better option. Most alphas survived lashes, and Spock wasn’t sure how he was going to survive what he had willingly agreed to. “Should I lie on the floor?” Spock asked.

McCoy looked amused. “You can stand, but move your feet apart for me.”

Spock moved his legs apart. McCoy used his hand to push Spock’s shoulder blade forward so Spock was leaning over the sink. McCoy squirted the lubricant over his index finger and middle finger and used his other hand to distribute the lube over those fingers. He brought the fingers down to Spock’s anus and pushed them in. The fingers felt ... not excruciating. As an alpha, having someone — especially an omega — use him this way was supposed to be the worst thing that could happen to an alpha. But this was … tolerable.

“I’m going to keep your hole ready for penetration from here on out,” McCoy said. “If anyone asks, and this is a direct order from me to you, I am fucking you every night.”

Spock nodded once. He wanted to be back in McCoy’s mind, where he would not have to pay attention to how his body was being used. 

“Ok,” McCoy said and took his fingers back. “Tell me if you have pain.” 

“I will.” He had other questions. Sarek only allowed questions that Spock had researched on his own and then approached logically. Pike had always let Spock ask as many questions as he wanted. He did not know what McCoy thought about questions, if he would be more like Sarek or Pike. “How many years have you been in Starfleet?”

“Over two years, and it feels like a fucking lifetime,” McCoy said.

“Captain Kirk as well?”

“Yeah, we met at the transport shuttle that took us to Nero’s,” — he gestured vaguely — “training.” McCoy wiped his fingers on a towel and left Spock alone in the bathroom.

Nero had appeared, they say, out of thin air, when Spock was 14 years old. Nero had advanced, futuristic technology and a grudge against the world, especially Vulcans. Spock and his parents had been on a ship touring a nearby solar system as part of Sarek’s, Spock’s father, work as an ambassador when Nero appeared. Nero had destroyed Vulcan, Spock’s planet, with his planet vaporizer, leaving Spock and his parents as refugees on their ship. For 537 Vulcan days, they hid from Nero on that ship, often shutting down the power and drifting in silence and darkness for days on end to avoid Nero’s scouts. In the dark, Spock’s mother helped him learn to control his telepathy, letting him practice shields and blocking with her. And then one morning while they were eating breakfast, Sarek ran in — and Sarek never ran — and grabbed Spock’s arm with his hands. He pulled Spock to the nearest evacuation pod. “Live long and prosper, my son,” Sarek said, the last words Spock would ever hear in Vulcan. Sarek closed the door of the pod and ejected the pod into space. Spock’s pod was found by Captain Pike of the Enterprise 21 Vulcan days later; Sarek’s ship and everyone on it were never seen or heard from again.

No refugee camp would accept the risk of sheltering a Vulcan, not when Nero was targeting entire planets to kill one Vulcan. And so Pike had given Spock a home on the Enterprise. A respite, it seemed. Pike could only keep Spock safe while he was alive.

A year after Pike rescued Spock and Nero had vaporized seventeen other planets, Nero began orbiting Earth, his planet vaporizer pointed at San Francisco. It took less than a month of the threat orbiting over their heads, and Nero was made Fleet Admiral of Starfleet. Starfleet traded fighting Nero for doing Admiral Nero’s fighting.

The first change Nero implemented was requiring all captains to be alphas. Nero installed his own alpha captains on ships that did not already have alpha captains. Nero took over training, and at the end of each training class, Nero gave the top graduating alphas a small shuttle and crew and sent them out to take over existing starships. The losing captain had to choose between lashes and submission. Survival of the fittest, Nero said.

Spock had never expected to have to make that choice. Perhaps it was for the best that Pike had made it for him.

Spock showered in 2.45 minutes and toweled off methodically. McCoy had taken the clothes that Spock had been wearing, so Spock wrapped the towel around himself and quietly opened the door. A small lamp — one of Pike’s — was on, leaving the room in a pleasant, terrestrial glow. McCoy was sitting in the bed with a datapadd, drinking from a flask.

McCoy used the flask to gesture towards the duffel bag next to the bed.

Another t-shirt and sweatpants were sitting on top. Spock didn’t know if those were his clothes for the next day or his sleep clothes, but the room was set artificially cold — that is, colder than the standard Enterprise temperature, but not as cold as the 2.73 degrees Kelvin outside the ship — and any layer would be useful. McCoy silently watched Spock put the clothes on, continuing to drink from the flask.

An assortment of blankets and pillows was piled on the floor at the foot of the bed. There was, Spock was grateful, a medical heated blanket as well. Spock quickly sorted a few blankets into a base, folded the rest neatly, wrapped himself in the heated blanket, lay on his side, and closed his eyes. 

***

“I don’t have any use for him in the medbay, so I don’t give a shit what you do with him.” 

Spock kept his eyes shut and listened to the conversation Kirk and McCoy were having. He had slept for five hours and meditated for two more and felt rested. 

Footsteps. Spock continued to pretend to sleep. 

“Hey, Spock,” Kirk said.

Spock made a production of opening his eyes so Kirk would not suspect he had been listening to his conversation with McCoy.

“You’re coming with me to the cafeteria. We leave in five minutes.”

Spock nodded. He carefully stood and placed his pile of blankets under the bed, out of sight, so he could hopefully continue to use them.

As he brushed his teeth, McCoy entered. He had the lubricant, and Spock mentally prepared himself.

McCoy took the collar from the ledge and nimbly buckled it around Spock's neck. He pushed Spock's pants down, and Spock leaned forward like McCoy had directed him the night before. McCoy put a hand on Spock's lower back under his shirt, and Spock's mind eagerly connected with McCoy's mind. Spock was barely able to keep the shield up, which would keep McCoy from realizing what Spock was doing.

As McCoy inserted his fingers into Spock's anus, Spock was in McCoy's mind.

A little girl with long brown hair, laughing as she runs from the bathroom. McCoy pretends he does not know where she is as he checks behind a chair and then a pile of books. “Where is my Joanna-Banana?” he calls out as the little girl giggles.

“Finished,” McCoy said as he took his hands from Spock.

Spock blinked at McCoy in the mirror; this McCoy was nothing like the person deep in McCoy’s memories. McCoy turned the shower on, and Spock walked out of the bathroom. Kirk was waiting for him so they could leave together.

“Stay behind me, don’t use any furniture, and kneel when I tell you,” Kirk said. They walked to the cafeteria, Spock remaining two steps behind Kirk. Spock estimated that 80% of the crew was present and eating breakfast, which left 20% to finish their night-shift duties.

The table where McCoy had taken ownership of Spock was still front and center. It now had a large chalkboard on it, tasks listed orderly down one side. Kirk walked straight through the cafeteria to examine the tasks. Under Admiral Nero, many things switched from digital to manual to avoid leaving a trail. No one could predict what would set Nero off and order entire crews to his training camp for the lash.

Kirk pointed, and Spock kneeled facing the table. McCoy wanted him to eat from the replicator, but Kirk did not indicate that Spock should do so.

Kirk had a member of his crew and Lieutenant Tinley Foster from Spock's crew with him, and they quickly started writing names, underlining those who would be team leads, erasing and rewriting names until everyone had been assigned. Everyone but Spock.

Was he to kneel in front of the table where he had submitted to McCoy for the entire day?

Tinley called for everyone's attention and called out names, assigning everyone to one of six teams. Most teams left to start their work, leaving Kirk with one of the engineering teams. He drew a diagram on the chalkboard of the welds needed in one of the Jeffries tubes. Kirk started to depart with his team, and Spock debated for 1.3 seconds.

“Captain Kirk, what is your preference for how I spend my time today?”

Kirk had forgotten about him; that was evident on his face. “Clean the empty crew quarters, starting closest to the Observation Deck. The new crew will be assigned to the rooms by the end of the week.”

Spock nodded. He was physically and mentally able to accomplish the task. He walked to the first room. He would clean the rooms to the best of his ability. He would clean like it had been Pike who had ordered him.

He worked diligently for seven hours. He first emptied the rooms, taking the linens to the laundry and sorting personal things from the refugees, who had been marked as deceased, in the storeroom. After emptying the set of rooms, he was left with a box of medication, and he carried it to the medbay to ensure it was sorted or disposed of properly.

The medbay was also being reorganized, crates were piled on one side, and the arrangement of the biobeds had changed as well. Spock was pleased. The Enterprise had not been able to obtain many medical supplies in the past few years and had been without a medical doctor since Dr. M’Benga left.

McCoy found Spock and scanned him with a tricorder without asking for permission. McCoy, of course, did not need to ask Spock’s permission.

Spock was going to explain about the medication, but McCoy spoke first.

“I told you to stop rationing,” McCoy growled.

“I was not rationing. Captain Kirk did not grant me permission to acquire food.”

“I told you yesterday we're not doing that. Kirk didn't give you permission because you don't need it. Get on the bed.”

Spock reluctantly climbed onto the same bed as the day before. McCoy pressed at his shoulder to have him lie back. Spock wanted McCoy’s hands on his bare skin again. McCoy scanned Spock, then gave him another series of hypos.

McCoy covered Spock with the heated blanket. “Rest,” he said gruffly.

Spock shut his eyes and slept.

***

“Did Pike keep a diary or journal or anything?” Kirk asked.

Spock had been cleaning for three days and had been owned by Kirk and McCoy for four days. “If he did, I am not aware of it,” Spock said. He was kneeling in his sleep area, attempting to meditate. McCoy was drinking from his flask again.

“Did he have a secret office somewhere? Or a place he went to be alone?”

“If he did, I am not aware of it.”

Kirk rubbed his face in his hands. “I was so sure,” he mumbled to himself.

“Sure of what?” Spock asked.

“Nothing,” McCoy snapped.

“Nothing,” Kirk repeated. “But if you find anything of Pike's — or might have been Pike's — bring it to me immediately.”

“Affirmative,” Spock said.

The ship was warping to somewhere — no one thought to tell Spock, and he was not sure he was allowed to ask — 2.2 days after Kirk boarded the Enterprise. Although it was longer than Kirk intended, 87.3% of the major repairs had been completed.

Spock had finished the rooms needed for the new crew members and moved on to the rest of the rooms. There was plenty of space if Kirk overtook another crew and brought them on board.

Spock did not ask about that, either.

Spock did not find the cleaning he was doing mentally stimulating, but he knew most submissives would not be allowed to work alone as Kirk and McCoy permitted him to work alone. Still, he was growing to dislike the many hours he spent by himself. The silence sometimes reminded him of his time in his father’s ambassadorial ship, remaining silent for days on end while Nero searched for them, or in the escape pod where the loudest sound was his beating heart.

Kirk did not spend much time in the Captain’s quarters. He was working on something that he would not answer questions about, and generally only came to the room after McCoy commed him to remind him to sleep. Kirk had not assigned any crew to help him on this project, and besides knowing that Kirk was looking for something, Spock did not know what it could be.

McCoy would not allow Spock to work extra hours, so Spock and McCoy spent much of their free time together in Pike’s room.

The part of his day that Spock looked forward to the most was the few minutes that McCoy put his hands on Spock. Twice a day, morning and night, McCoy put his lubed fingers in Spock’s anus and his other hand somewhere on Spock. And twice a day, Spock’s mind could meld with McCoy’s mind, giving Spock access to McCoy’s memories for a few minutes. Spock's favorite memories so far were of Joanna, McCoy's daughter. Joanna’s other father was Jovian, and McCoy had many pleasant memories of him as well. Spock hoped that Joanna and Jovian were alive, even if McCoy never spoke of them to Spock.

McCoy sometimes put his fingers in Spock’s anus as quickly as he could. Sometimes McCoy was slow and gentle. Spock preferred when McCoy was slow and gentle, when McCoy kept his hand on Spock for longer periods of time, and Spock could go deep into his mind.

Spock walked into the bathroom, and McCoy was only a few seconds behind him. McCoy took off Spock’s collar. Spock took his shirt off to give McCoy a place to put his hand on Spock’s bare skin. Spock loosened his pants, and McCoy slid his hand down the back of Spock’s pants. McCoy did not provide Spock with undergarments, as submissives were not permitted to wear undergarments. McCoy rubbed his fingers up and down the outside of Spock’s anus. Spock leaned forward so McCoy could put his fingers into Spock, and McCoy splayed his left hand around Spock’s hip.

“What’s gotten into you, Leo?” Jovian asked, as young as Spock had ever seen him. “Are you mad at me?” McCoy shook his head. “Never! I want you to be my date to prom,” he blurted out. The boy smiled, and McCoy thought he’d never seen a smile as pretty. “As friends?” McCoy shook his head. “I can’t stop thinking about how you kissed me. I want to make us official and take you to prom and maybe do more kissin’.” Jovian crashed a hug into McCoy, rocking McCoy backward. “I would love to go to prom with you.”

McCoy took his hand off Spock as he withdraw his fingers from Spock’s anus.

Spock was familiar with McCoy's sexual desire for Jovian and Kirk. Those thoughts were always near the surface of McCoy’s mind. So Spock was 81% sure how to get McCoy's hands back on him. Spock pulled his pants down and stepped out of them. He put his hand around the shaft of his penis and held his penis out. McCoy liked it when Kirk did this.

McCoy turned the water off with his elbow and carefully dried his hands off with a towel, his eyes on Spock's penis.

Spock knew from McCoy’s memories that McCoy also enjoyed kissing, and he stepped forward and put his mouth against McCoy's mouth, like McCoy liked to think about with Kirk and Jovian. McCoy put his tongue, which tasted of alcohol, in Spock's mouth and wrapped his arms around Spock’s shoulders. Spock had never kissed someone or had someone’s tongue in his mouth, and it was a strange sensation, McCoy’s tongue hot in his mouth, licking at Spock’s tongue.

Fuck it, if we're gonna die anyway, I can have this. God I want to get my dick in him, he was so tight before. Gotta ask, just gotta ask first.

McCoy pulled back from kissing but kept his hands on Spock's shoulders. “You don't gotta. We can keep things the way they are, at least for a little bit.”

“I want to,” Spock said.

McCoy kissed Spock again. Spock moved his tongue to touch McCoy’s tongue, and McCoy sent a jolt of pleasure to Spock. McCoy broke the kiss off to take his shirt off and drop it to the ground. “Have you ever had sex before?” 

“Yes,” Spock said. 

“Besides when you submitted,” McCoy amended. 

“No.”

McCoy was taking his clothes off and pulling Spock into the bedroom with his hands, pushing Spock onto the bed with his hands. McCoy got on top of Spock, and their unclothed bodies were in contact from their ankles to their mouths. Spock had both of his hands on McCoy's back and his tongue in McCoy's mouth, and he would need to meditate about this later, but he felt warm and safe underneath McCoy.

He followed McCoy’s mind back to Joanna and Jovian.

Joanna on a swing, laughing as she yelled higher! higher! Joanna sitting on Jovian’s lap, blowing out a birthday candle and squealing with excitement when she did it on her first try. Joanna — a tiny newborn — sleeping in a wrap where McCoy could kiss her forehead again and again. Jovian with a headache and McCoy checking him with a tricorder and giving him a hypo, as gently as he could.

He was so deep in McCoy's mind that he did not notice when McCoy's penis entered him, as McCoy thrust into him, or when McCoy ejaculated.

McCoy rolled off Spock. Spock lost the connection to McCoy's mind and blinked a few times to reorient himself.

“That felt real good,” McCoy said. He gestured towards Spock's penis, which had become partially erect. “You want me to finish ya?”

“I do not know,” Spock said. He did know that he wanted McCoy’s hands back on him.

“Alright, I’m gonna put my mouth around that dick of yours and you can let me know how that feels to you,” McCoy said, looking amused.

“Affirmative.”

McCoy moved Spock’s legs where he wanted them — open, exposed — and leaned over and licked, wet and warm, from Spock’s testicles up the shaft of his penis to the lower of the two ridges on the head of his penis.

Spock had never felt such a sensation, and he mentally cataloged it so he could review it later.

McCoy put the head up to the first ridge into his mouth and applied suction. Spock’s hands ended up on the side of McCoy’s head.

Gonna make this as good for Spock as Jovie made it for me my first time. God, his dick is weird as shit, I hope this feels good to him. Can’t wait to swallow alien come, wonder what he’s gonna taste like.

Spock wanted to go deeper, back to Joanna, but McCoy was thinking very hard about him, at him. McCoy had both of the ridges of Spock’s penis in his mouth and almost half of his shaft. His fingers were pressing against his testicles in a way that made Spock want to press back into the fingers.

He’s getting so hard. I’m glad he likes this. He’s so close to coming, I want him to come in my mouth.

Having McCoy’s mouth around his penis was pleasurable, and somewhat to his surprise, he ejaculated into McCoy’s mouth.

McCoy swallowed around his penis and then just held Spock’s penis in his mouth for a moment longer. He gently released Spock’s penis and smiled up at him. “Does that feel alright?”

“Yes,” Spock said, even though he had not had time to meditate on the experience.

McCoy moved from between Spock’s legs back to his sleeping spot. He kissed Spock on the shoulder the way he used to kiss Jovian’s shoulder, and after 16 seconds, his eyes shut.

Spock moved to his sleeping area on the floor.

The next night, Spock had already taken off all of his — McCoy’s — clothes when McCoy entered the bathroom. McCoy lifted Spock to sit on the sink, and they kissed for a long time before moving to the bed. McCoy liked Spock’s tongue in his mouth, and Spock liked the feeling of McCoy liking it, and so they both enjoyed kissing.

On the third night, McCoy was naked in bed, waiting for Spock and thinking about Jovian.

On the fourth night, McCoy did not taste like alcohol, and Spock found he enjoyed human kissing more without that taste. McCoy was having lustful thoughts about Spock, thinking about how he would like to put his penis in Spock's ass, how good Spock felt, and how much he liked the taste of Spock’s come. McCoy was thinking about Spock on his hands and knees, so Spock rolled over to his hands and knees.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” McCoy said, kneeling behind Spock.

“Affirmative,” Spock said.

***

The days passed slowly. Spock continued cleaning all of the empty quarters. He did not skip meals. McCoy had sex with Spock’s body every night as Spock explored McCoy's mind.

One of Kirk’s crew found Spock cleaning. “Captain Kirk wants you on the bridge,” she said.

Spock did not know the whereabouts of his comm from before his submission. He would have liked to have kept it, full of ordinary messages, mainly from Pike. “Report due at 0900,” and “Good work on the samples.” These messages could have been a reminder that Spock had been valued by Pike.

Panic served no logical purpose, and Spock walked at his normal speed to the bridge to see why Captain Kirk would call him there.

Would this be the day that Kirk put his penis in Spock for the first time? If Kirk was not rough, he would not injure Spock’s body as McCoy kept Spock’s anus ready for penetration.

Kirk was sitting in Pike's chair. “Can you help Sulu with the navigation console?” 

“Of course.” 

“I mean, I’m not ordering you to help; I’m asking if you’re familiar enough with the navigation console to assist Sulu.” 

“I understand your question, and I can be of assistance.” Sulu grabbed a chair and pulled it close to himself. Spock assumed he was allowed to sit and did so. 

Sulu was less threatening without a sword at Spock’s neck. “The screen and the navigation system are off by a few seconds. Kirk and I will have difficulty communicating if we’re seeing different information,” Sulu said.

Sulu did not need to explain to Spock why such a thing would cause problems, as Spock had four years of experience on the bridge. “Did you transfer the code from your ship?”

Sulu nodded. 

“Begin with the line of code that references the input function.” 

Sulu and Spock worked together for a few hours. They figured out the discrepancy after only an hour of work, but with Kirk’s permission, Spock instructed Sulu on how to check all of the portions of code that could be problematic, ensuring there would be no future problems. 

When they finished, Spock went to find Kirk. Kirk was in the ready room. 

Spock hadn’t been in the ready room since Pike gave what was to be his final orders to his crew, and Spock focused on not being emotional as he stepped inside the doors. 

Kirk spent a lot of time in the ready room, most of his time, apparently. He told the crew he was reviewing Pike’s records for discrepancies, but Spock could have explained that Pike would not have discrepancies because Spock had double-checked all of Pike’s work since Spock was 16 years old.

Kirk had spread out various papers and notebooks on the large table, organized into a system Spock could not immediately understand. He stood at the door where Kirk would not think he was attempting to read anything he did not have permission to read. 

“Any chance you know written Romulan?” 

“I do not,” Spock said. Kirk probably believed Spock to be Romulan, as Admiral Nero had announced three years ago that there were no Vulcans left in the galaxy.

“Hmm,” Kirk said, seemingly to himself.

“I have been told,” — by Pike — “that I have the ability to see patterns when others cannot. I would assist you in any way I am able.”

Kirk rubbed his face and sighed. “You’re dismissed.”

Spock walked back to Pike’s quarters. McCoy was waiting for him. “Clothes off, lie on your back, head on the pillow,” he said, patting the bed next to him.

Spock took his clothes off and did as he was asked.

McCoy finished undressing. His penis was already erect. He gently pried open Spock’s knees, and Spock felt McCoy’s possessiveness, but it was tender and protective, even if McCoy’s tone and facial expressions didn’t reveal such things.

McCoy knelt close to him, propping Spock’s legs on his legs. McCoy had the lubricant and coated his fingers before slowly sliding two fingers into Spock. 

Spock knew what to expect and relaxed specific muscles so McCoy’s fingers did not cause discomfort. Indeed, the feeling of McCoy’s fingers or penis in his anus and rectum was often pleasurable. McCoy’s knee was close to Spock’s hand, so Spock placed his hand on McCoy’s knee.

Jovian holding a screaming Joanna. “Where have you been?” McCoy getting defensive. “Scrubbed in on a surgery. Did you have another migraine?” Jovian is visibly upset. “I don’t need you here just when my head hurts, I need you to be an equal dad with me. You promised me, Leo.”

Spock sent the thought of McCoy putting his penis into Spock and he did so. Spock’s anus was used to the diameter and length of McCoy’s penis so there was no discomfort. McCoy’s face was close to Spock’s face. McCoy leaned down and kissed Spock on the lips. Spock boldly put his hands on McCoy’s face and lost himself in a complete meld in McCoy’s mind.

McCoy kissing Kirk the way he kissed Spock. Kirk naked under McCoy. “What if we were just rubbing our dicks together and yours just slipped into me?” Kirk said, slyly smiling up at McCoy. Kirk panting as McCoy put his dick at Kirk’s anus and pressed it in, McCoy loving how tight Kirk was. “Bones, gods, like that. Fuck me like I’m your omega.”

McCoy wasn’t moving, just holding steady, his penis deep in Spock, his forehead pressed against Spock’s forehead. They were breathing in sync with each other, McCoy enjoying the feeling of his penis in Spock and Spock feeling McCoy’s pleasure through the meld.

“What the fuck?” Kirk said, not in McCoy’s mind, but in the real world. “Bones, what the fuck are you doing?”

Spock dropped his hands from McCoy’s face and turned his head. Kirk had his fists clenched. As adrenaline flooded his body, Spock’s heart rate and breathing increased.

“I'm fucking my goddamned submissive,” McCoy said. He withdrew his penis from Spock and rolled onto his back, leaving Spock’s erect penis exposed to Kirk. Spock remained still.

“Yeah, I can see that. Just how fucking drunk are you?”

McCoy scowled. “Haven’t drank in days, asshole.”

Kirk kneeled on the bed, over Spock’s naked body, as Spock fought to remain still and not curl up so his penis wasn’t exposed to Kirk. “I thought we were in agreement,” he hissed into McCoy’s ear.

McCoy brought his mouth to Kirk’s ear and whispered angrily. “We are, but we don’t know half of this crew. So, yeah, I’m gonna fuck him tonight and tell everyone about it. Next week, he’s gonna suck my dick while I eat breakfast in the mess. And the week after, I’m going to give the entire fucking crew a goddamned show and make him ride my dick in the middle of the medbay.”

“Jesus, Bones,” Kirk said out loud.

McCoy grabbed Kirk’s face and pulled it to him. “It takes one person to say the wrong thing to the wrong person, and you get the lash, and Spock and I submit to Nero. An alpha submissive? I don’t even have the imagination to know what that sadistic bastard would do to him. While you do the big future plans, I’m gonna do everything I can to keep everyone alive that I can in the here and now. I don’t care how I get us to tomorrow, I only care that I get us there.”

“This isn’t you,” Kirk said.

“No, this is me. The same me that left Earth on a shuttle to Nero’s training. Because I fucking had to. I’m not proud of myself, and I know I’ll answer for it all at the pearly gates, but I couldn’t live with myself any other way.”

Kirk pulled back and stood next to the bed. Even though Kirk was not looking at Spock’s penis, Spock wanted to shield himself under a blanket. Kirk shook his head.

McCoy sighed. “Listen, we all have a ticking clock hanging over our heads. You do what you gotta do, and I’ll do what I gotta do.”

“Fuck,” Kirk muttered.

“You know I’m right,” McCoy called out as Kirk left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Chapter Text

McCoy did not put his fingers in Spock’s anus the next morning. Spock was unsure if he should remind McCoy or not. He decided he would not say anything, but remind McCoy that night if McCoy forgot again.

McCoy was waiting for him by the door. “We’re going to my office in the medbay.” He shook his head. “Remember, you’re the one who asked for this.”

“Would you have asked for lashes in my place?” Spock asked, curious.

“I would have taken Jimmy’s offer for the Farragut,” McCoy said.

“Would you?” Spock asked with curiosity. “You joined Starfleet after Nero was in charge. You accepted a certain level of … discomfort when you joined.”

“Discomfort,” McCoy repeated, looking amused. “That’s one way to put it. Now, come on, you’re going to — how would you say — put your mouth around my penis.”

Spock tried to suppress his emotional response, but McCoy seemed to see it.

“I’m going to lock my door this time, but the ship needs to see you acting like a submissive.”

With a feeling of dread that he could not block, Spock followed McCoy to the medbay. Spock should have been expecting this after hearing McCoy explain his plan to Kirk, but he had not correctly analyzed the situation. Spock followed McCoy into his office. McCoy did lock the door, as he had indicated he would.

The office appeared the same as when it was Dr. M’Benga’s office. Spock had not spent much time in here, only stopping by occasionally when Pike needed him to take a message and perform other small assignments.

McCoy put the datapadds down and sat heavily in his chair. He pointed to the floor in front of him. The desk would block Spock from anyone’s view who opened the door.

Spock knelt between McCoy’s legs.

“Open my pants and get my dick out.”

Spock could perform that task. He used his hands to unbuckle McCoy’s belt, undo the button, and then pull the zipper down. McCoy was not wearing undergarments, which was unusual for him.

McCoy had never provided undergarments for Spock, as submissives were not allowed undergarments.

Spock pulled open the pants with his hands, but he didn’t understand what he was seeing.

“It’s foreskin,” McCoy said. “Your penis would probably look like this, but you were circumcised.”

“I do not have this information.”

“I can show you the scar on your penis,” McCoy said. “But for now, give me your hand.”

Spock let McCoy manhandle Spock’s hand around McCoy’s penis, McCoy wrapping his hand around Spock’s hand. McCoy pressed their hands together around his penis.

Spock was breathing rapidly and was more erect than McCoy.

McCoy showed Spock how to pull back the foreskin. “When I’m erect, and most people with uncircumcised penises are the same, the foreskin will be down here and you’ll see the head of my penis. It’ll look like yours then.”

Spock nodded. It was hard to concentrate when McCoy was touching his hand.

McCoy noticed Spock’s erection. “Do you like it when I talk about anatomy to you?”

“Hands,” Spock panted. “Hands are an erogenous zone for me.”

McCoy grinned. “That explains why you’re always touching me when we’re fucking.” He picked up Spock’s right hand and slowly licked Spock’s index finger before putting it in his mouth and sucking.

Spock came untouched in his pants.

McCoy stroked his own penis nine times to get it fully erect and the head was able to be observed. “Mouth,” he said, his breathing faster than normal. “Just like I do it for you.”

Spock leaned forward and put his mouth around the head of McCoy’s penis. He did not like the sensation and pulled back.

“You don’t have to like it, but you’re going to do it,” McCoy said, and he slid a gentle hand to the back of Spock’s head. “Again,” he said as he pressed Spock’s head forward.

Spock was slightly more ready this time and kept McCoy’s penis in his mouth for five seconds.

“You’re ok,” McCoy said softly. “Again, and this time use your tongue.” He pulled Spock’s head again, and Spock was able to relax his jaw enough to go further down McCoy’s penis. Belatedly, he remembered his tongue and licked the bottom of the head before pulling off.

“Good,” McCoy said.

Spock did not like having to be an active participant because he would rather be in McCoy’s head, but he realized the better he learned this technique, the faster McCoy would ejaculate and the sooner Spock would be finished. Spock attempted to keep McCoy’s penis in his mouth for longer and longer amounts of time.

“I’m going to come in your mouth,” McCoy panted as he brought both hands to the back of Spock’s head to keep him in place. As McCoy moaned, hot ejaculate flooded Spock’s mouth.

“You’re going to swallow that,” McCoy said and he took his penis out of Spock's mouth. “Do it on the count of three, one, two, three,” and Spock swallowed the bitter fluid. McCoy huffed out a laugh. “We’re going to have to work on that face of yours, too.”

“I did not enjoy the taste of your ejaculate.”

“Well, if Nero came in your mouth and you spat it out, he’d have someone piss on it and then make you lick it off the floor, so I’d get used to swallowing.”

Spock froze. “I am to fellate Nero?” Humans might not realize that Spock was Vulcan, but Nero would. Nero would also kill him on sight. Or, more likely, torture and then kill.

“It’s not planned yet, but when we get called to his ship, and we will, you’ll do whatever he wants. When you submitted to me, you also submitted to Kirk and Nero. They own you just as much as I do.”

Spock was having a hard time breathing.

“I’m doing what I can,” McCoy said, sounding annoyed.

“I understand,” Spock managed to say. “I will work on my emotional control for sexual acts I find distasteful.”

“Whatever it takes,” McCoy said, tucking his penis back into his pants. “Now get to work, I have patients to see.”

***

Spock was meditating when McCoy arrived back in the room. McCoy took his clothes off, tossing them near the laundry basket. “After you swallow, I’ll play with your hands again.” He sat on the bed, spread his legs, and pointed at the floor between his legs.

Spock should not have told McCoy about his alien physiology. He kneeled between McCoy’s legs. McCoy’s penis was erect and the foreskin was out of the way as McCoy stroked himself.

“Just like this morning,” McCoy said.

Spock nodded and opened his mouth. McCoy put the head of his penis into Spock’s mouth and Spock closed his mouth around it. McCoy moved his penis in and out of Spock’s mouth. “Good,” he said. “That’s real good pressure, use your tongue.”

Spock did his best to follow the instructions.

McCoy thrust in deeper than before and his penis at the back of Spock’s throat made him gag. Spock pulled back and coughed.

“You’re ok,” McCoy said. “Take a second.”

Spock did not want to continue. He touched McCoy’s leg and sent him the image he had received from Pike, Spock with his mouth open, waiting for Pike’s ejaculate.

“Open your mouth,” McCoy said, already stroking himself.

Spock opened his mouth and waited.

“Fuck,” McCoy panted as his ejaculate hit Spock’s face, messy and hot. “Swallow,” he said, and Spock swallowed. He could feel the ejaculate on his face starting to cool.

“Fuck,” McCoy repeated. He took his index finger and wiped his ejaculate from Spock’s face. “Open,” he said, and as Spock opened his mouth, McCoy put his ejaculate-covered finger into Spock’s mouth. Spock closed his mouth around McCoy’s finger.

“You like that?” McCoy asked. Spock did not respond. Three more times, McCoy wiped his ejaculate from Spock’s face and fed it to him.

McCoy helped Spock stand, and they walked into the bathroom together. McCoy turned on the shower and removed Spock’s clothes, revealing Spock's erection, before removing his own. He guided Spock into the shower — hot but not burning — and stepped in behind him.

McCoy washed Spock’s hair like he used to wash Jovian’s hair. He washed Spock’s body like he used to wash Jovian’s body. He pressed his front to Spock’s back and put his right hand around Spock’s penis and put his left index finger on Spock’s lips. Spock opened his mouth, and McCoy put his index, middle, and ring fingers into Spock’s mouth. McCoy moved his right hand quickly up and down Spock’s penis and Spock came with McCoy’s fingers pressing into his mouth.

McCoy did not immediately move to get out of the shower. He pressed his forehead against the back of Spock’s neck. Spock turned off the water and remained still.

“Come sleep in bed,” McCoy said quietly.

“Affirmative,” Spock said.

McCoy used his towel to dry Spock, then himself. Spock followed McCoy into Pike’s room. McCoy folded the blanket back and got into bed first, and Spock lay down next to McCoy. McCoy pushed Spock onto his side, draped his leg over Spock’s leg, and put his arm around Spock’s waist. Spock allowed himself to relax into McCoy’s warmth.

It was almost two hours later when the door opened. Kirk walked in and put his personal effects on top of the dresser. He turned and sighed when he saw Spock in bed.

McCoy sat and blearily looked at Kirk.

Kirk sighed. “Bones, he’s not a pet or a boyfriend, and he’s definitely not Jovian. He’s our submissive. You’re the one who keeps reminding me.”

McCoy glared at Kirk. “If you don’t like him in our bed, maybe you should try sleeping in our room more often.”

“I’ve been following a few leads.” Kirk rubbed his face. “And, update, Nero sent a message about an hour ago. He wants to tour the Enterprise at the training center in ten days.”

Spock concentrated on keeping his heart from beating faster, keeping adrenaline from flooding his body. He was not successful.

“Fuck,” McCoy said. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Yeah,” Kirk said.

“Whatever you gotta do, Jimmy.”

Kirk nodded. “I’m not giving up, not until I’m dead.” He touched two fingers to the back of Spock’s hand. Kirk could not know that he had performed the Vulcan equivalent of a kiss. Kirk left the room without another word.

McCoy climbed over Spock and went to the wardrobe. He pulled out a bottle of alcohol — the label said it was barrel-aged American whiskey — pulled the cap off, and took a long drink. He looked at Spock. “I’m not going to be very good company tonight, so why don’t you go sleep in your spot.”

“Affirmative,” Spock said and moved from the bed to the floor.

Spock did fall asleep, but he woke after a few hours and spent the rest of the night meditating, attempting to figure out what Kirk and McCoy were planning. Was it possible they were part of the Resistance? Pike, after drinking four cocktails, had once told Spock that there were individuals who were trying to overthrow Nero, but that Spock must never mention it again because Nero would torture anyone who seemed favorable to the Resistance and then lash the entire crew.

Spock did not want anyone on the crew to be lashed, so he would not say anything.

***

Spock was mopping the floor in one of the empty quarters. Kirk barged in with one of his crew members. Kirk had a strange look on his face, a look that Spock could not parse.

It had been two days since Kirk had told McCoy to stop treating Spock like a pet or boyfriend. McCoy had asked Spock to sleep with him the night before and had slept with his arm around Spock, sometimes dreaming of Jovian, sometimes Kirk, and sometimes Spock.

“Knees,” Kirk said, and Spock put the mop in the bucket and kneeled on the floor in the wet spot where he had been mopping.

“Fiddler, you know that I think you’ve been doing an excellent job lately,” Kirk said, using a tone of voice unfamiliar to Spock.

“Doing my best,” Fiddler said. Spock had only seen Fiddler in passing three times.

“On this ship, I don’t just punish bad behavior, I reward good behavior. You can have the submissive for one hour.”

Spock was 99% sure he had heard Kirk correctly and 95% sure what Kirk meant.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Fiddler said. “Anything I want?”

“Within reason. You can’t injure him.” Kirk gave Fiddler a wink. “I have plans for later.”

“But I can fuck him.”

“I assumed you would,” Kirk said.

Spock’s heart started beating faster. Was Kirk going to allow this? Kirk walked over and put his hand on Spock’s shoulder. “Spock, you will do as you're told.”

I hate to do this to Spock, but I need to find it. It’s just one guy for an hour, he’ll be fine. I’ll remind Fiddler not to hurt him.

Spock was shaking and could not stop his body’s response. “No,” he thought. “Not like this.”

Kirk looked down at Spock, a strange look on his face. “One hour,” he repeated, looking at Fiddler. “Don’t hurt him.”

Fiddler nodded once. “I wouldn’t.”

Kirk left, the door closing behind him with a click. Fiddler walked over and turned the manual lock. He unbuckled his belt and pulled it out through the loops. “The lash is for submissives who don’t do exactly as they're told.”

Spock did not know Fiddler, did not know how people like him saw the world. “You may put your penis in my mouth.”

“Why are you talking like that?” Fiddler said. He pointed at his belt, sitting next to him. “How about you don’t talk for the next hour?”

Spock nodded. He could remain silent for an hour.

Fiddler sat on the bed to remove his boots. He shoved his pants and underwear down. His penis hung heavy over his testicles. He had more pubic hair than McCoy. “Get over here and suck it.”

Spock crawled on the wet ground and kneeled in front of Fiddler.

“No teeth,” Fiddler said.

Spock was unsure what that meant, as — like human teeth — his teeth were a permanent part of his mouth. He moved closer between Fiddler’s knees and opened his mouth. He had done this with McCoy four times.

“Yeah, I’m gonna fuck that Romulan mouth.”

Spock did not — could not — correct him.

Fiddler touched his penis, moving his hand up and down, but he did not get erect. McCoy was quick to get erect when he had his hand on his penis. Maybe there was something wrong with Fiddler’s penis and he would not want to put it into Spock’s mouth.

“Suck it,” he said, sounding frustrated.

Spock moved forward and put the head of Fiddler’s penis in his mouth. He disliked the taste, worse than McCoy’s taste.

Fiddler put his hands on either side of Spock’s face — not my fault that I can’t get it up for an ugly-ass alien — and shoved his unerect penis into Spock’s mouth, causing Spock to gag.

“Yeah, just like,” that Fiddler said, and brought Spock’s face onto his penis again and Spock gagged again. Fiddler did not seem to care that his penis was making Spock gag and he pushed it in again and again, slowly becoming erect.

Fucking Romulans are why we’re in this fucking mess. Gonna show this Romulan what happens when you mess with the Fiddler.

He pushed Spock backwards. “Take your clothes off,” and Spock hurried to comply.

He did not want this.

He could stop it.

He would stop it.

He quickly thought of ways to stop it. He was stronger than a human. He could use the nerve pinch his father had taught him. He could find McCoy. He could use his telepathy.

It took him five seconds to decide that he would use his telepathy and make Fiddler believe he was putting his penis in Spock even though he would not be. He had enough of McCoy’s thoughts to make it work. He was 41% sure.

He waited for Fiddler to get close to him and then reached out with both hands, fingers splayed on Fiddler’s face for a full meld. But to meld with Fiddler so deeply that Spock could convince Fiddler that he was putting his penis in Spock, Spock had to allow Fiddler in.

Gonna show this fucking alien who’s boss around here. Gonna tell everyone how many times I fucked him, how much he cried. I should have been an alpha, not this fucking Romulan.

Spock winced. He needed to remain unemotional. He sent the image of himself on his back, the way McCoy liked.

Don’t want to see that gross-ass alien dick.

Spock sent him the image of himself on his hands and knees from McCoy’s point of view.

That’s more like it. He didn’t have the balls for the lash, so he’s only good for my dick. He should have been shoved out of the airlock the second he presented. Waste of an alpha. Only good for my dick.

Spock sent the feeling that McCoy had when he put his penis in Spock and Fiddler responded by wanting to put his penis into Spock so hard that it hurt Spock, he wanted to make Spock’s anus bleed. Spock had to let Fiddler in more because Spock did not have access to any experiences like what Fiddler wanted to do to Spock.

Spock took the image from Fiddler of Spock bleeding and sent it back with the feeling McCoy had of putting his penis into Spock. “Take my dick,” Fiddler said, thrusting into the air.

They continued like this for 43 minutes, until Spock was mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. Fiddler had ejaculated twice, his ejaculate landing on Spock’s body both times. Spock sent Fiddler one last idea: that Fiddler was hungry and wanted to go to the dining room. Spock collapsed on the floor. Fiddler pulled his clothes on, spat on Spock’s back, and left the room.

Spock would survive. Fiddler’s penis had not touched Spock’s anus, which is what Spock had wanted. Spock would lie here for five minutes and then return to Pike’s room and shower. McCoy could touch him; that would feel better than this.

Spock closed his eyes.

“Spock, are you ok?” Kirk snapped his fingers in front of Spock.

Spock opened his eyes and shrank back from Kirk. Had Kirk found out? Was Spock going to get the lash for deceiving Fiddler?

“McCoy’s on his way,” Kirk said, and indeed, at that moment, McCoy rushed through the door.

“What happened?” he asked Spock.

Spock looked at Kirk.

“I needed access to the main server, so I gave Spock to Lieutenant Commander Fiddler, just for an hour.”

McCoy squatted next to Spock to scan him with a tricorder. “You did what?” he hissed.

Spock did not want to be scanned. He had been scanned more times in the time that McCoy had owned him than the rest of his previous life added together. He grabbed McCoy’s hand that wasn’t on the tricorder and put it against the side of his face.

What the fuck was Jim thinking? No obvious signs of physical trauma. Looks like he’s in shock. Needs the heated blanket. I need to find out what temperature his body needs; that should have been in his medical record, and it wasn’t. I’m going to put him under observation for the next 2 hours.

“Bones, I have it,” Kirk said quietly. “I found a file deep in the server for a part that’s never been used on a Constitution-class ship. I just need to figure out what the key is for the passcode.”

“You’re the captain of the Enterprise, and you couldn’t find a way to get that file without leaving Spock with some crew member for an hour?” McCoy asked.

Kirk sounded annoyed. “I’ve been through worse. You've been through worse. You heal him, and I’ll take him off duty for a few days. Did you forget that we’re meeting with Nero in a week?”

Naked and cold. Hands tied painfully over his head. Legs kept apart with a rigid pole tied at his ankles.

McCoy was rubbing his thumb over Spock’s cheek. “This ain’t right,” he said.

“You said we had to do the hard stuff, and that’s what I’m doing. This is the hard stuff.”

Without quite meaning to, Spock went further into McCoy’s mind.

“What do you mean the doctor couldn’t tell you what was wrong? Doctors are supposed to fix it!” McCoy says. Jovian looks tired with dark circles under his eyes. “He told me to keep with the medication for the next month and he’d reassess.” McCoy is angry at the doctor, not Jovian. “I’m gonna go to medical school and I’m gonna take care of you better than those doctors.” Jovian smiling. “You take such good care of me, I know you’ll be a great doctor.”

Spock somehow had clothes on again. McCoy lifted Spock onto his feet and helped Spock walk back to his quarters and lie on the bed. He put the heated medical blanket over Spock and pressed his hand against Spock’s cheek.

“Rest,” McCoy said out loud and in Spock’s head.

***

Spock opened his eyes 4.3 hours later. McCoy was sitting next to him, and Kirk was changing his clothes at the dresser.

“Jimmy, I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” McCoy shook his head. “Look at him, Fiddler broke him.”

“You said he was fine.”

“Physically, but he’s clearly not ok.” McCoy swallowed. “Is that what I looked like when Nero made me submit?” he said quietly.

Kirk’s face fell, and he shook his head. “No, you looked … annoyed.” He huffed out a hollow laugh. “You looked like you had just found out your shuttle was running 45 minutes late for a 40-minute connection.” He paused. “I’ve never loved you more, you know.”

“Fuck you,” McCoy said, reaching up to where Kirk was standing. He brought Kirk’s head down to his and kissed Kirk hard on the mouth. “Fuck you, fuck Starfleet, and fuck Ne—”

Kirk kissed McCoy mid-word, so he could not finish. “I know,” he whispered. “But we’re so close. I have it.”

“We’re running out of time,” McCoy whispered. He spoke in a normal tone next. “Spock gets the bed tonight, so you’re on the couch.”

“I’m going to keep working in the ready room, so that’s fine.” He kissed McCoy on the cheek. “Don’t wait up.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” McCoy said.

“Nothing stupider than usual, I promise,” Kirk replied and slipped out the door.

Spock was still exhausted. McCoy scanned him, his hands brushing Spock’s skin in the most gentle of ways.

He’s tracking me with his eyes; that’s a good sign. Wish I knew more about his alien anatomy and physiology.

After the things Fiddler had thought at him, McCoy’s gentle fussing was a balm for Spock’s telepathy. McCoy finished his glass of alcohol and climbed into bed next to him. “Wake me if something hurts,” he said.

Spock waited for McCoy to fall asleep and then slid his hand under McCoy’s arm, allowing McCoy’s alcohol-addled sleep to help Spock drift off.

***

He was so hot, like he was burning from the inside. He needed Pike. Where was Pike? He was in Pike’s quarters, so Pike had to be close by.

A man with brown hair had a tricorder. “It’s just rut, you’re ok,” he said.

“Pike?” Spock wanted his captain; he always went to Pike.

“Your clothes are soaked, let’s get you out of them.”

The man pulled off Spock’s shirt — the shirt did not belong to Spock. He pulled off Spock’s pants — the pants did not belong to Spock. Why was he not wearing any undergarments? “I require Captain Pike,” Spock said as clearly as he could.

“Sorry, darling,” the man said, pressing his hand against Spock’s burning-hot forehead. McCoy, the man was McCoy.

Pike was dead.

Spock was alone.

McCoy wiped off Spock’s face and chest with a cool towel. It felt nice, but he was so hot. “How did you do your other ruts?” McCoy asked. “Is there someone on this ship who helped you?”

M’Benga had taped his hands closed and locked him in a padded room in the medbay. Spock had been delirious for days. When M’Benga left for the refugee planet — and was marked as deceased — Pike had taken over Spock’s ruts. He taped Spock’s hands and tied him to the leg of Pike’s bed, leaving him on the floor for the entirety of it.

Spock shook his head.

“Right, you had said you hadn’t. Ok, I’m gonna take real good care of you this time.”

And McCoy was gone. He’d left Spock, just like Pike had left him, just like M’Benga had left him. Spock curled into a ball. He was burning hot.

“Enough of that,” McCoy said. He had taken his clothes off and was awkwardly putting his fingers into his own anus. He pushed at Spock’s shoulder and then swung his leg over Spock to straddle him. “I know you haven’t done this before, so I’m going to ride you nice and easy, see how that feels.”

McCoy wiped the tears off Spock’s face with his hand. “You’re ok,” he said softly.

“My hands,” Spock tried to explain. They always taped his fingers down.

“Your hands?” McCoy asked.

“Pike does not want me to use my hands. You must tape my fingers down.”

“Oh, no, baby,” McCoy said softly. “I’m not taking your hands away during your rut. Use your hands, ok? Are you ready for my ass?”

Spock could not speak, but he could nod.

McCoy held onto the base of Spock’s penis and then brought his anus to the head. He kept one hand on Spock’s penis and slowly started moving down. As McCoy’s anus moved over both of the ridges in Spock’s penis, he muttered, “Fuck,” his mouth hanging open. “Oh, Christ, this dick of yours.” He moved his anus up and down over the ridges of Spock’s penis a few times, which seemed to be intensely pleasurably for both of them.

McCoy finally moved his anus down and had all of Spock’s penis in him, tight and warm.

Spock had never had this before, and the part of his rut that made him delirious died back. He could feel the tight press of McCoy’s anus around his penis and he felt better, he felt better for once during his rut, like he was going to continue living and not die from the fever.

The burning heat from his core demanded one more thing. He reached his hands forward, and McCoy did not stop him as Spock interlaced their fingers together. Spock melded with him, bliss, pleasure, heat.

“Shhhhh, you’re ok,” McCoy said, and Spock was emotional, but he was not burning to death.

When he next came to himself, his hands remained unbound. McCoy was wiping him off again. “I’ve got Jim coming to take care of you for a while.”

“You own me,” Spock said. They could do whatever they wanted to him.

“You’re ours,” McCoy agreed.

Kirk slipped into the room. “Bones, you should have commed when his rut started.”

“It’s ok, I handled it. I know we need that file opened.”

“Did you bottom?”

McCoy nodded. Kirk stepped forward and wrapped his arms around McCoy, and McCoy grabbed him back.

“And that was ok?” Kirk said into McCoy’s neck.

McCoy shrugged and stepped back from Kirk. “I didn’t love it. But I did it.”

“It’ll make your heat go better next time if you can.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “Just get ready for Spock. He’s going to need your ass soon.”

McCoy helped Kirk take off his clothes. Kirk knelt on the bed on his hands and knees and McCoy used his fingers to stretch Kirk’s anus so that Spock’s penis would not hurt him.

McCoy had stretched Spock’s anus many times. Kirk seemed to find the experience pleasurable; he kept moaning and begging and telling McCoy that he would be good, and don’t stop, Bones.

“I do not know if Captain Pike would have allowed me to put my penis in his anus,” Spock said to the ceiling. His penis was erect and the fever was coming back. He needed McCoy.

McCoy had his hands on Spock. “Come on, let’s see if you like topping,” he said, and he helped put Spock on his hands and knees over Kirk.

“Kirk and Pike are alphas,” Spock said to McCoy.

“Kirk likes this, I promise,” McCoy said. He put his warm hand on Spock’s penis and Spock ejaculated, his ejaculate hitting Kirk. He was still erect.

“Fuck,” Kirk hissed.

McCoy rubbed Spock’s ejaculate into Kirk’s anus, which was bright pink and covered in ejaculate and lube. Spock wanted to put his penis into Kirk very badly. “He’s gonna like the feeling of your dick on his rim,” McCoy said and guided the head of Spock’s penis into Kirk’s anus.

“Fuck,” Kirk said, letting his head hang forward.

“Wait for the double ridges,” McCoy said.

Spock thrust the rest of the head in.

“Boooones,” Kirk said.

“Tell Spock, I need a break,” McCoy said and sat next to them.

“Spock, fuck me as hard as you can,” Kirk said.

It took Spock a few tries to learn how to get his penis to move in and out of Kirk. When his penis came out of Kirk, McCoy helped guide it back in. Spock put both of his hands on Kirk to thrust into him, and Spock could feel Kirk’s pleasure as Spock did this.

“Spock,” Kirk panted. “God, your dick.”

***

Spock opened his eyes. It had been 38 hours and 4 minutes since he had awoken with the blood fever. He felt like himself again. His telepathy was sated in a way it had never been before, a pleasant background hum, and the low-level headache he had carried since his first rut was gone.

He was naked in bed with Kirk and McCoy, who were both also naked. McCoy reached out a hand and placed it on his forehead.

“My body temperature is lower than what you are accustomed to with humans,” Spock said.

“I take it that rut’s over,” McCoy said. He pulled the sheet up to Spock’s waist and moved Spock so that McCoy could lie behind him, pressing their bodies together from his chest to his feet.

Kirk was in front of Spock and awake.

“So, did you like topping?” Kirk asked with a smile.

“Yes,” Spock replied. He did not need to analyze his emotions about the topic.

“Good because I liked your dick in my ass.” Kirk yawned. “Now that we’ve fucked, you gotta tell me, why did you offer submission? You didn’t try to fight. You had given up before we boarded.”

“It was Captain Pike’s final order to me,” Spock said.

“Pike wanted you to submit?” McCoy asked incredulously.

“Pike specified that I should submit to Captain Kirk. He was unaware, I assume, that Kirk was bonded to an omega.”

“Surprise,” McCoy said flatly.

“Why would Pike do that?”Kirk asked in a manner that said he did not expect Spock or McCoy to answer.

“Because he didn’t want his entire crew to die fighting us,” McCoy said. “We outnumbered them 2 to 1.”

“No,” Jim said, slowly. He touched Spock’s eyebrow. “Pike knew you were Vulcan, right?”

“Vulcan!” McCoy exclaimed.

Spock debated not answering. “Affirmative,” he finally said. “Half Vulcan and half human.”

“Is that even possible?” McCoy muttered.

Kirk slid his hand from Spock’s eyebrow to his cheek and thought at him. “Does it work like this?” he yelled in Spock’s head. “Spock, are you there?”

Spock winced. He had not known that humans were capable of communicating like this; his mother certainly never had. He reached up and interlaced his fingers with Kirk’s fingers. “Like this,” he said quietly in Kirk’s head.

“Like this?”

“Affirmative.”

“This is fun! So Pike knew you’re a touch telepath, right?”

Spock on his knees for Pike. Spock spreading his legs and showing his most intimate areas to Pike. Spock on top of Pike, moaning as Pike thrust his penis into Spock.

“Affirmative.”

“Pike was part of the Resistance. He recruited me, and I brought Bones into this mess.” Pike was part of the Resistance and had not mentioned it to Spock, even once? “To the best of my knowledge, we are, since Pike and Chin-Riley died, all that is left of the Resistance. Do not speak of any of this except to me and McCoy telepathically. Otherwise, Nero will find out, and every person on this ship will be lashed, at best.”

Spock put both hands on Kirk’s face to ensure everything came through the meld as Spock intended. “Nero vaporized my planet and hunted my parents and me for 537 days. I spent 21 days, 4 hours, and 13 minutes in an escape pod, calculating if I would die from lack of water or lack of air. What is the plan?”

Kirk sent something like sympathy to Spock. “I believe the file that Pike hid on the server is the technical plans for Nero’s planet vaporizer. Nero’s power comes solely from his planet-vaporizer. He hasn’t made another one, even though he has considerable resources to do so. I believe he can’t make another one, therefore —”

“To destroy the planet-vaporizer is to destroy Nero,” Spock finished for him.“What do you need from me?”

“I need a key to open the file. What was Pike doing in the final days before his death? Was he writing in a journal? Listening to a certain song? Watching a movie?”

Oh.

A page in a book, given to Spock not as a mistake, but as a final heroic act.

“I know the key.”

Kirk clamped his hand over Spock’s mouth even though they had been communicating telepathically.

Spock sent the final image Pike had sent to him to Kirk.

Kirk's face brightened, and he nodded once. He took his hands from Spock.

“You finished making googly eyes at Spock?” McCoy asked.

"Yeah, I’m going to keep working on my project. Night, Bones,” he said. He stood and put on his clothes. “So Spock’s a touch telepath,” he said and walked out the door.

McCoy turned to stare at Spock. “What the hell?”

Spock pulled the sheet to his shoulders.

McCoy reached over to the nightstand for his flask. He took a few long swallows. “What the fuck did you get out of my head?” he growled.

Spock calculated if this would be the correct time to lie, and decided no. “I have seen Joanna. And Jovian.” McCoy looked like Spock had plunged a knife into his stomach. “Are they alive?”

“They better fucking be,” McCoy said, his voice cracking. “If they were just gonna die, I should’ve been with them so we could have all died together.” He drank from the flask again.

“What happened?” Spock asked.

McCoy drank again before answering. “When Nero planted that giant death ray up in our stratosphere, every single person on Earth wanted to leave. The governments put together a lottery. I drew real low. Jovie drew even lower. So I traded. Starfleet needed doctors, and I signed on the dotted line. I went to Starfleet, and in return, Jovian and Joanna got on the next shuttle headed out of the solar system.”

Spock put his hand on McCoy’s thigh. McCoy passing a sleeping Joanna to Jovian, Jovian crying. “Leo, I’d rather die with you than live without you.” McCoy, knowing he’d never see them again, “Jovie, I love you more than life itself. When I swore I’d do anything for you and Jojo, I meant it.”

“Was Nero’s training as you expected?”

“Worse,” McCoy said, drinking again.

McCoy tied to the ground, his arms and legs spread and stretched tight, McCoy hoping nothing dislocates. Jim forced to watch. McCoy trying to get mentally prepared for Nero making him submit in front of the training class, all of the officers, and Jim.

“You wanted my submission to be better than your submission.”

“I’m not Nero. I’m not a sadist. My job is to help people, not hurt them. But if I want to keep this crew alive, I gotta do what I gotta do.”

McCoy continued to drink. He eventually lay down and curled around Spock’s back.

Just over an hour later, Kirk opened the door. He saw Spock looking at him. “The thing you showed me isn’t right,” he said. He tossed a notebook in front of where Spock was lying.

Spock picked up the notebook. He needed 3.6 seconds. “It’s a cipher within a cipher. You’ve decoded a Playfair square.”

“Is Pike messing with me?” Kirk asked.

“Pike made puzzles like this for me as a distraction when I could not suppress my emotions about the death of my parents. May I have a writing instrument?”

Kirk tossed him a pencil, and Spock quickly wrote down the answers from the cipher. He handed it over.

Kirk had his datapadd out and scrolled through quite a few files. He tapped, and a box opened, asking for the passcode. Kirk typed in Spock’s answer. The file opened.

“Holy shit,” Kirk said softly.

Spock sat, and together they paged through the data, page after page of technical diagrams of the planet vaporizer.

“This is it,” Kirk said. “Now we have a fighting chance. I need to make a plan.”

***

“You and McCoy do not think of me as a submissive, am I correct?” Spock asked. Spock was about to start his nightly meditation, Kirk was reading the datapad with the file, and McCoy was updating medical charts. It had been two days since Kirk had opened the file. Two days of Kirk making illogical plan after illogical plan and they were running out of time.

Kirk nodded, barely looking up from his datapadd. “Inside this room only.”

“Do I have your permission to speak freely?”

Kirk looked up and cocked his head to the side. “Inside this room only.”

“Then I feel beholden to tell you that your plan has a 3% chance of success. It relies far too heavily on your ability to manipulate Nero’s crew members into doing exactly what you want, leaves too much to chance, and has few, if any, contingency plans.”

Kirk looked amused and licked his lips. “Oh, Mr. Spock, come on, tell me what you really think.”

Spock looked at Kirk. “I am attempting to do so in a manner that is respectful of your position but does not flatter you with false platitudes.”

“I’m starting to like this guy,” McCoy said.

“So you think you could do better?” Kirk asked.

“Yes,” Spock said.

***

Spock found himself enjoying his time planning a mission with Kirk. Spock and Kirk communicated with Spock’s telepathy about the planning. Spock enjoyed his time in Kirk’s mind. Kirk was clever, funny, and would eventually listen to Spock. Kirk liked to start with big, impossible plans to see if he could find a way to make them work. Spock worked the opposite way, planning methodically, step-by-step, finding the most reliable plan. Together, they were a good match.

They used all three of the remaining days, but by the end of that time, they had a plan they both agreed on.

“We need to ask members of the crew for help,” Spock said. There was only a 3.4% chance of success with Spock, Kirk, and McCoy.

Kirk stood and started pacing. “If we’re caught, they’ll be killed.”

“If we are caught, Nero will kill everyone on this ship anyway,” Spock said. “If he suspects that we have the plans, he would not risk the plans being sent to someone else.”

“You can at least offer the crew the chance to help,” McCoy said.

Kirk shook his head, but commed Sulu anyway.

A few minutes later, Sulu knocked on the door and walked in. “Captain, Doctor,” he said, nodding at Kirk and McCoy, ignoring Spock.

“We’re going to ask you a big question, and you can say no,” Kirk said. He motioned Sulu over to the couch. “Almost three years ago, I was approached by my father’s best friend, Captain Christopher Pike. Pike didn’t want Nero as head of Starfleet. He said that Nero would not advance Starfleet’s mission, only his own goals.”

Sulu’s face was blank. He nodded once. “I would say that is accurate.”

“Pike asked me if I was willing to join Starfleet. He and Captain Chin-Riley were attempting to get a copy of the plans for the planet vaporizer, and he wanted more people who would be willing to work for Starfleet’s mission and not Nero’s goals.”

“He needed alphas he could trust,” Sulu said.

Kirk nodded. “Pike was able to get those plans to me. We know how to destroy the planet vaporizer. We need a pilot, the best pilot. I am asking you if you would risk your life to stop Nero. You can say —”

“I’ll help.” Sulu cut him off. He looked at McCoy. “I don’t fear death, but I do fear torture. Can you give me something to take if I’m captured?”

McCoy looked pained. “Yes.”

Sulu nodded. “I’ll fly you wherever you need. I always wanted to be a pilot, but not like this. I want my old Starfleet back.”

Kirk nodded. He held out his hand, and they shook. Sulu pulled him into a hug.

Next, they needed a computer genius — Kirk’s description, not Spock’s — and Pavel Chekov agreed to risk his life for their cause.

McCoy would be expected on board Nero’s ship as Kirk’s bonded omega, and Spock as their submissive.

Spock had a hard time sleeping or meditating when he thought about that.

Kirk took the Enterprise to a refugee planet, a place to leave the crew and the ship. Sulu would fly them to Nero’s ship on a shuttle. Scott had agreed to “break something fixable” as a guise for why Kirk would be arriving via shuttle and not on the Enterprise.

Nyota Uhura found Kirk just as they were about to depart in the shuttle. “I know all three Romulan dialects. I want to go.”

“What do you think we’re doing?” Kirk said carefully.

“You’re going to assassinate Nero. I can help.”

Jim shook his head. “Nyota —”

“I knew Spock was Vulcan the second I saw him in the cafeteria. I didn’t tell anyone. You need me.”

Kirk looked her straight in the face. “McCoy has given us all a pill to take if we’re captured, so we die before Nero tortures us. This isn’t a diplomatic mission.”

She did not flinch. “I’ll take one of those pills, too, then.”

Scott was left in charge of the Enterprise.

“If we’re not back in five days, follow the plan,” Kirk said to him.

“Take everyone to safety, and then explode the ship.”

Kirk nodded.

“It’s been an honor, sir,” Scott said.

“Likewise,” Kirk replied.

They — Spock, Kirk, McCoy, Sulu, Chekov, and Uhura — boarded and Sulu piloted the shuttle towards Nero. It was a two-day journey. Kirk spent his time making sure that Uhura, Chekov, and Sulu knew everything that he knew, and went over the plan — and Spock’s contingency plans — over and over again.

McCoy pulled Spock to the bunk room with him. McCoy had told Spock that Spock should only have sex with McCoy if he wanted to. Spock did, he wanted McCoy to touch him while thinking about how much he wanted Spock, how much he liked Spock’s penis, how good Spock’s body made him feel. Spock and McCoy took off their clothes and lay on McCoy’s bunk. McCoy pulled the blanket over the top of them. They had to be quiet so the other people on the shuttle would not hear them.

McCoy pushed Spock to his side and slid his penis into Spock from the back. He spread his hands on Spock’s back, giving Spock a weak link to his mind.

Neither had ejaculated when there was a soft knock. “It’s me,” Kirk’s voice said. He came into the room and locked the door behind him. He took his clothes off and climbed into bed in front of Spock, a tight fit even in McCoy’s bed.

“Jimmy, you suck on his fingers and if you can get him to come before I come, I’ll fuck you.” Kirk enjoyed when McCoy was demanding during intercourse, and Spock could feel Kirk’s arousal.

Kirk licked Spock’s index finger, put it in his mouth, and slowly pulled it out. He did the same with Spock’s middle finger. He put both fingers in his mouth and licked up the crease between them. Spock ejaculated.

***

“My pronunciation’s not great, but I can say the Viduy with you,” McCoy said quietly that night. Spock had chosen to spend the night in McCoy’s bed again. Kirk was piloting the ship while Sulu rested.

Spock had not thought he would hear that word again. “Thank you for asking. It might not be tradition, but I do not mind that the last words of Hebrew and Vulcan I heard were from my mother and father, respectively.”

“I suppose I can appreciate that,” McCoy said.

“What were the last words you heard from Jovian?”

McCoy sighed into the back of Spock’s neck. “If you do this to me, I’ll hate you forever.”

“Forever is a long time,” Spock said.

“Probably not long enough,” McCoy said.

The next morning, when Sulu said they were an hour out, McCoy told Spock to come into the bathroom with him.

“Pants down,” McCoy said.

Spock was wearing black thermal layers and no undergarments.

“My anus is stretched from our sexual intercourse 6.4 hours ago.”

“Gotta make sure.”

Spock slid his pants down to his knees and leaned over the toilet so McCoy had access to his anus. McCoy easily slipped two fingers in and started with a third.

Spock could not get a clear read on McCoy, but he could sense McCoy’s fear and apprehension. “You do not think Kirk’s plan will achieve the desired outcome,” he said.

“It’s a risk. We all know it’s a risk.”

McCoy removed his fingers and pulled Spock’s pants back to his waist. “It might get bad, real bad. Just don’t take that pill until you’re sure, 100% sure. I can fix you, I can always fix you.” McCoy’s breathing and heart rate were elevated.

Spock put his fingers on McCoy’s cheek, and McCoy could not hide his fear and panic before he grabbed Spock’s wrist and pulled it off of his face.

“You did not know Nero would make you submit,” Spock observed.

McCoy looked angry. “I knew what I was signing up for. If not the exact details, the basic outline.” He shook his head. “I was the only doctor. Nero ignored me the entire training. I patched him up from three attempts on his life, once from a knife and twice from a phaser. I thought …” McCoy trailed off.

Spock had a hard time reconciling the mortality of Nero with the person who had destroyed his home planet and hunted Spock and his family. “You thought you had earned Nero’s trust.”

“Yeah. And, honestly, I might have earned it, but Nero had his favorite alphas, and Jim wasn’t one of them. When Jim placed first in the captain’s test, guaranteeing his right to a ship and crew, Nero wasn’t happy. I think that’s when he decided.”

“To make you submit.”

McCoy nodded. “I didn’t have any warning, no preparation.” He shrugged. “It hurt.”

“I can prepare you for penetration the way you have prepared me.”

“No,” McCoy said sharply. “Sorry, no,” he said, his voice quieter. “I don’t deal well with other people in my ass. Never particularly liked it, for the record. Just hate it now.”

Spock touched the back of McCoy’s hand, sending a wave of understanding.

McCoy lifted Spock's hand to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of his hand.

***

With only a few words of Romulan, Uhuara was able to get their shuttle into what Kirk referred to as the “primo parking.”

Sulu and Uhura remained on the shuttle. Uhura was covertly monitoring their comms and everything else she could pick up from Nero’s ship, and Sulu would be able to leave at a moment’s notice.

Chekov’s part of the mission was to find a computer access point and put a targeted virus into the ship’s computer system. Once the virus was activated, the planet vaporizer would be unable to be turned on.

Kirk was in charge of physically breaking the planet vaporizer in a way that would be irreparable.

McCoy and Spock were to stay alive. McCoy had given Spock a winter hat to hide his ears. Spock thought it was an illogical plan, but McCoy had insisted. Spock, of course, also wore his collar. Kirk had added a small, flexible multi-tool, hidden on the inside.

Uhura had her headset on and was listening to the frequencies as they started to exit the shuttle. She nodded her head at Spock. “Longevity and prosperity.”

“That is one accurate translation,” Spock said.

She smiled widely at him.

“Good luck,” Sulu said.

Spock, Kirk, McCoy, and Chekov walked onto Nero’s ship. Seven armed security guards were waiting for them.

Kirk seemed confident and sure of himself, and his voice did not falter. “Glad to be back. Is the Admiral available?”

One of the security guards gestured at McCoy with a phaser. “You’re needed in the medbay.” It did not look like a suggestion.

“Of course,” McCoy said and walked down the hallway to the left.

“The alpha submissive to the Admiral’s office,” a security guard said, listening to a headset. One of the security guards pushed Spock’s shoulder.

Spock could feel Kirk’s apprehension. “Of course. My submissive is the Admiral’s submissive,” Kirk said.

Two of the guards grabbed Spock on either elbow and forced him into the hallway to the right.

“Hey, is Hendorff still around?” Kirk asked from behind Spock. “He owes me 20 credits.”

The two security guards walked Spock deep into the ship. The bigger security guard shoved Spock through a doorway, and Spock fell to his knees. He was in a large office, dimly lit.

The security guard pointed to a place in front of the large desk, and Spock crawled over to kneel there. He did not enjoy waiting, but he also did not want to meet Nero. One security guard left and one remained, his hand resting on his phaser.

Spock kneeled for fifteen minutes, 31 seconds when the door opened. Spock did not turn his head.

“So you’re McCoy’s alpha submissive.”

Spock kept his eyes on the ground. He had never expected to meet Nero like this.

Nero walked into the side of his field of vision. “What do we have here?” He stepped forward and pulled the hat off Spock’s head. The hat had been as good a disguise as Spock had suspected.

“Vulcan,” Nero hissed. “Who are you?”

Spock estimated that his odds of leaving the ship alive were under 1%. “I am McCoy’s submissive,” Spock said.

“Before you were a cum dump for an omega, what was your name?”

“I am McCoy’s submissive,” Spock repeated.

Nero laughed. “I have one guess for who you are. Let me know if I’m right.”

Spock kept his eyes on the ground.

“Spock, son of Sarek? Born on Vulcan, to a Vulcan father and a human mother.”

Spock concentrated on keeping his respiration and heart rate even. Why did Nero have this information? “I am McCoy’s submissive.”

“I have waited for this moment for so long, Spock. I am only sad that you must have taken so many dicks before me, and that I can’t be the first to wipe that hauty look off your face. I wish I had been there to witness an omega making you submit. And not just any omega, an omega who had submitted to me.”

Spock kept his eyes on the ground.

“What we are going to do today, is I am going to have you bend over my desk and look at the view screen so I can fuck you while I turn Earth into dust.”

Spock lunged as fast as he could, and he registered the surprise on Nero’s face as Spock gripped him with a nerve pinch and Nero crumpled to the ground. Spock hurled himself to the back of the room, where the security guard had pulled out his phaser. Spock side-stepped and darted in to nerve pinch the security guard. The security guard fell to the ground.

Two men down. Now what?

Spock pulled the security guard by his knees behind the couch, where he would not be visible. He put his hands over the man’s face in a meld and commanded him to sleep.

It was illogical, but he did not want to touch Nero. He knew it was what he needed to do. He walked over and knelt next to where Nero was on the floor. He put both his hands on Nero’s face and commanded him to sleep.

Spock suspected that Kirk would know what to do now, because Spock did not.

He went to the security guard and pulled the comm from his shirt. “This is Perry,” he said, reading the name on the badge. “The Admiral has had a medical event. Send the doctor to his office.”

“Sending Medical,” a voice replied. “Sending all available security.”

Spock should have factored that into his one second of deliberation. Even with the security guard’s phaser, he could not fight a security team. So he kneeled on the floor where Nero had told him to kneel and waited. He did not know the odds that McCoy would be the one who arrived.

It was another minute before the door banged open. Two medical staff — neither McCoy — ran in with a gurney.

A dozen security guards, phasers drawn, ran in after them.

A security guard tackled Spock and lay on top of him, holding his head at an uncomfortable angle. It was hard not to draw parallels between this and the last time he had been forced down, the day he submitted to McCoy.

“Take the submissive to the brig,” one of the security guards said.

Many hands grabbed Spock and pulled him to his feet, and then pushed him into walking.

Spock had no choice but to go where he was led. There were three security guards in front of him, one on either side gripping his arms, and at least one behind him. They went down a corridor, on a lift, down another corridor.

They walked through a set of steel doors. A row of heavy, windowless doors lined the far side of the room. This would be the brig.

His boots were pulled off. Scissors cut off his shirt and pants, various hands touching him, as he attempted to shield. He was quickly naked and surrounded by a dozen armed security guards.

He would analyze whether nerve pinching Nero was a logical choice at a later time. He suspected he had not been logical in that moment.

One of the guards grabbed his penis, painfully holding it out for the other guards to see. “What the fuck is this?” he said.

Spock focused and making sure he did not react to the hand on his penis and he did not answer.

“Put him in a cell,” someone commanded, and two guards grabbed him by his upper arms and pushed him into a cell, shoving him to the ground. He caught himself on his hands and knees and looked up to see them slam the door shut. The door was light- and sound-proof, leaving him in a silent, dark room. No comm or transporter beam could go in or out of the cell.

His breathing and heart rate increased. It felt like the time he had spent in the evacuation pod. He did not have enough air.

He touched his collar with both sets of fingers and concentrated on his breathing; he was not in an evacuation pod. He was a crew member of the Enterprise.

He would logically analyze his current situation, debate the likelihood of success between ideas, and proceed with the most advantageous plan. If there were a way out of this cell, he would find it.

From his time studying the plans, he knew there were several access tubes above him, but he would need to find a way to get through the walls, using only his fingers.

And Kirk’s multi-tool.

He crawled forward in the dark until his hands felt a wall, the back wall, not the wall with the door. This would be where he would start, looking for a way out. He searched for 18 minutes before finding the top of a screw. He took his collar off, pulled out the tool, and carefully rebuckled the collar back on his neck. Using his fingers to orientate himself in the dark, he used the screwdriver to unscrew the screw and after a short time, it fell into his hand.

He continued, screw by screw. After each screw, he attempted to pry the metal off the wall, and after the 21st screw, he was able to pull the metal off and he gently placed the metal piece on the floor.

He felt a familiar tingling sensation and rematerialized.

“We have Spock. OK to varp,” Chekov said.

A heated blanket was placed around his shoulders. He was on the Enterprise. “Status?” McCoy barked at him from behind.

Spock pulled the blanket tightly around him. “I am ok. You had a tracker in my collar?”

McCoy put two fingers over the pulse in Spock’s throat, sending his worry and fear to Spock. Spock put his hand around McCoy’s wrist and removed McCoy’s fingers from his body.

McCoy pulled a tricorder out.

“No one put any of their body parts inside my body,” Spock said. “Your medical readings can wait until we have privacy in the medbay.”

McCoy’s whole body slumped, and for a moment Spock thought it likely that he would have to catch McCoy before he fell to the ground. “Ok, let’s go,” McCoy said, gesturing towards the hallway.

“Is Admiral Nero on board?” Spock asked quietly, once they were alone in the lift.

“Yeah,” McCoy said. “Let’s see, I had just finished stitching an ensign back together when they wheeled him in.” He gave Spock a look.

“I used telepathy to suggest he sleep,” Spock said, only omitting one part of what had happened.

“So I hooked him up to every machine in the medbay. His vitals were fine, but now I understand what was going on. Kirk found me and explained the Enterprise had arrived to rescue us. I yelled some nonsense about a quarantine, and the three of us were beamed aboard. They’d already retrieved the kid. We couldn’t find you, and Kirk assumed you were in one of the cells in the brig.”

Spock nodded once.

“Kirk was going to storm the ship and demand the release of his submissive, but suddenly, you were on the screen.” He gave Spock another look.

“I used the screwdriver provided to me to open the metal of the cell.”

“I ain’t an engineer, but I guess that’s how it works. So we got you, and now we’re warping to talk to some people Kirk thinks can help us.”

“Nero?”

“Is sedated, handcuffed, and locked into a medical security room.”

Nero might be in the room where Spock had his first ruts.

He and McCoy had arrived at the medbay. McCoy had Spock lie on his normal biobed and scanned him with a tricorder. McCoy put another blanket on him.

Kirk ran in. “Spock,” he breathed out. “I'm glad we have you back.”

“I am glad to no longer be naked in a cell on the ship of the person who destroyed my species.”

Kirk grinned. “Good.” He touched the back of Spock’s hand with two fingers. Spock flipped his hand around and put his two fingers on Jim’s two fingers.

***

“Spock, bridge, now,” Kirk said into his comm.

Spock had been working on lab samples that morning in the Science department. Kirk asking him to the bridge was a regular occurrence — happening on average 1.3 times per day the past week — but he did not usually use such a commanding tone. Spock had taken over his previous duties as a science officer to train the crew to his standards.

Spock found himself walking at almost 25% faster than his normal walking speed and had to remind himself to walk at his normal pace. He adjusted his collar as was his habit to ensure the McCoy name was centered. Although Kirk and McCoy no longer considered him their submissive — if they ever had — the legal status of submissives was unknown as Admiral Nero faced prosecution for his crimes. Until Starfleet officially dismantled the submissive system and stated the legal status of submissives, Spock had decided it would be logical to continue wearing his collar.

It still housed a tracker and a multitool.

He walked onto the bridge and saw the image of his father on the screen.

“Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan wanted to update the Enterprise on the prosecution of Nero,” Kirk said.

Spock’s father was alive. Spock controlled his visible emotions.

Sarek looked at Spock and then back at Kirk. “As I stated, the Federation has begun to gather evidence in the case against Nero, the former Admiral of Starfleet. As a Starfleet captain, I assumed you would be able to convey this information to your subordinates.” He looked at Spock again. “And your submissives.”

“Spock was instrumental in apprehending Nero, and I thought you might want to speak to him about any Vulcan matters,” Kirk said.

“All Vulcans will be informed of any developments or procedures in forming a new nation at a logical time, a time when all necessary information is available.”

“It is logical,” Spock agreed.

“I have achieved all goals for this conversation, and I will close this frequency unless there are further questions.” Sarek was looking at Kirk.

“Does my mother still live?” Spock asked quickly.

Sarek turned to Spock slowly. “She does. Do you not think that I would not inform you of her death?”

Spock could not answer with the emotion he was trying to suppress. “Could you tell her that I am alive?” he said, his voice uneven.

“It is logical.” Sarek looked up and down at Spock. “I will inform her of your submissive status, and she can communicate with your owner as she sees logical and as your owner permits.”

“Spock’s mom?” Kirk said. “Spock can talk to his mom as much as he wants.”

“I am certain there are better uses of the communication facilities of the Enterprise than that,” Sarek said. He held up his hand. “Live long and prosper, son.”

“Live long and prosper, Father,” Spock repeated, and the screen went blank.

Spock needed to be alone to meditate and to analyze his emotions. He walked off the bridge and walked at 200% of his normal speed to the lift. He pressed the lift button with more force than necessary.

The lift arrived, and Spock stepped in. Kirk was behind him.

“I would ask to be alone,” Spock said.

“I know,” Kirk said.

The lift took them to their floor. Kirk was two steps behind him and followed Spock to their door. Spock entered the room, and Kirk closed the door behind him. Kirk opened his arms. Spock allowed his head to fall into Kirk’s neck, and Kirk put his hands on the back of Spock’s neck, his fingertips under his collar.

“I didn’t know that Ambassador Sarek was your father,” Kirk said into Spock’s ear. “And I should have thought about your collar before you spoke to anyone from Vulcan. I was just so happy that there are other Vulcans still alive.”

“You could not have known,” Spock said.

“Jimmy, what did you do?” McCoy asked as their door opened.

“Good news, Spock’s parents are alive,” Kirk said.

McCoy pressed himself against Spock’s back and put his hands under Spock’s shirt, against his back. Kirk and Spock were not telepathic and did not understand Spock’s telepathic needs, so he had spent time instructing them how to assist him, teaching them to touch him with soothing thoughts.

McCoy usually thought about a creek near his childhood home, the water making a pleasant sound as it cascaded over the rocks. Kirk thought about looking at the stars when the ship was on warp. It was pleasant to be pressed between them, earth on one side and space on the other.

“What’s the bad news?” McCoy finally asked.

Spock could feel Kirk brighten up. “You're going to tell Ambassador Sarek that Spock submitted to you.”

***

coda:

The ambient air temperature was over 40 degrees Celsius. Jim, Leonard, and Spock walked down the pathway, small houses lined one side, while a school and a park were on the other.

Spock had been able to walk side-by-side with Jim and Leonard for 1.2 years, the same 1.2 years that Nero had been arrested and in prison. The planet vaporizer had also been ruined and never worked again.

“House 51, that’s what we found on the form,” Jim said soothingly to Leonard.

“They could have moved by now or died of the bubonic plague,” Leonard said morosely. They walked down the path to House 51, a vegetable garden on one side and a row of flowers on the other. Leonard knocked three times on the door and stood back.

A young female voice from within yelled, “I don’t want to answer the door, I’m not done with my chapter!”

A few seconds later, the door was opened by a young girl with long brown hair.

“Uh, hello, my name is Leonard McCoy, and I’m looking for —”

“Daddy?” the girl interrupted. “Oh my god, Daddy, is that you?”

“Joanna?” Leonard whispered. The girl leaped forward and forcefully hugged Leonard. Leonard wrapped his arms around her.

“Dad! Dad! Come here!” she yelled, pulling Leonard into the house with her.

Although they had not been invited, Jim followed them inside. Spock followed and shut the door behind them.

“It’s Daddy!” Joanna yelled.

Jovian, whom Spock only knew from the most intimate moments of Leonard’s mind, walked through the doorway and into the sitting room.

“Oh my god, Leo!” Jovian exclaimed, and Joanna and Leonard pulled him into their embrace.

Leonard wiped tears from his eyes as he stepped back. “This is Joanna and Jovian,” he said to Spock and Kirk. He turned to Joanna and Jovian. “And these here are my partners, Jim and Spock.”