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Reboot ficlet: The Cover (MU, S/Mc)
Oct. 1st, 2009 07:22 am(Companion piece to The Book - ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spikeface asked for McCoy's POV - full ISS kink meme thread here.)
It hurt every single time, even when he got used to it. At least he stopped flinching when Spock approached him with the look - that certain gleam that sometimes spoke of possessiveness, sometimes of need. The possessiveness that drove the Vulcan to add yet another sign of ownership, etching seals and ancient spells into his skin - the need to celebrate life, returns from tricky missions and escapes from adversaries' hands, by adding another story.
With the growing patterns, even McCoy started to believe in their protective strength; like an invisible shield they drew a line around him, strong enough to keep most pursuers away. They might want him, but not enough to evoke the wrath of a man whose emotions were a glowing ember below the veneer of Vulcan control. There was no need to fight, only to undress, his branded skin the ultimate defense. Until the day he met the other Spock - then it was only an invitation to take and abuse what the old man had lost in another life.
McCoy never told his Spock what really happened, only pulled him close when he was back home, pressing the cauter into his hand and begging for a new story. And this one time it didn't hurt when his Spock drew the intricate lines carefully up his bruised throat like a caress, claiming him anew.
***
Next: The Writer
spikeface asked for McCoy's POV - full ISS kink meme thread here.)It hurt every single time, even when he got used to it. At least he stopped flinching when Spock approached him with the look - that certain gleam that sometimes spoke of possessiveness, sometimes of need. The possessiveness that drove the Vulcan to add yet another sign of ownership, etching seals and ancient spells into his skin - the need to celebrate life, returns from tricky missions and escapes from adversaries' hands, by adding another story.
With the growing patterns, even McCoy started to believe in their protective strength; like an invisible shield they drew a line around him, strong enough to keep most pursuers away. They might want him, but not enough to evoke the wrath of a man whose emotions were a glowing ember below the veneer of Vulcan control. There was no need to fight, only to undress, his branded skin the ultimate defense. Until the day he met the other Spock - then it was only an invitation to take and abuse what the old man had lost in another life.
McCoy never told his Spock what really happened, only pulled him close when he was back home, pressing the cauter into his hand and begging for a new story. And this one time it didn't hurt when his Spock drew the intricate lines carefully up his bruised throat like a caress, claiming him anew.
***
Next: The Writer
