slash4femme: Dr. McCoy from the 2009 Star Trek movie looking ahead on a blue background with the word "Bones" in while next to him. (Star Trek remixed)
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 Title: This House Just Ain't No Home 
Author: slash4femme
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot 
Pairing/Category: Spock/McCoy 
Rating: R
Warning: making out, groping, a very little bit of angst
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, I do not make money off of doing this. The only thing I'm getting out of this is pure unadulterated creative enjoyment and less hours for me to spend doing my real work. 
Summary: they own two houses on on New Vulcan and one on Earth 
Author Note: beta read by [info]cardiac_logic who is both wonderful and awesome. written for Ship Wars over at [info]st_respect 



I.
Technically they own two houses - one on New Vulcan, one on Earth. 
The one on New Vulcan is small, compact and light, everything painted white to disperse the heat and, open architecture to catch what breeze there might be. There is also a patio and small yard surrounded by a short wall out behind the house. The house always smells clean, if a little strange, to Leonard McCoy - a little sterile maybe, because it’s closed up most of the time. It isn’t even really decorated; there are a couple framed photographs, mostly group shots of the Enterprise crew, and that’s about it. It’s not unwelcoming though. McCoy always expects it to be, always expects to feel out of place when he walks through the door and drops his bags on the floor of the living room, but Spock is always there, right behind him, his heat and his scent familiar and just present
McCoy stretches his arms out and rotates them to try and get the stiffness out after the long ground car ride. Spock moves past him, picking up McCoy’s dropped bags on the way, easily carrying all their luggage through to the bedroom, and after a few more moments McCoy follows him. Spock unpacks his bags neatly, sorting everything and putting it away, and McCoy leans against the doorframe and watches him. McCoy is wearing jeans and a t-shirt since they are technically on shore leave, but Spock is wearing a traditional Vulcan robe, heavy, black and stiff looking. It makes him look small, and paler than normal, and his eyes darker than normal. McCoy crosses the room and wraps one arm around the other man’s waist, presses a kiss to the back of Spock’s neck, lets his other hand play with the heavy material of Spock’s robe. Spock moves a little in McCoy’s arms, one hand smoothing down the shirt he’s just refolded.
“Leonard.” 
“Hmmm?” McCoy closes his eyes, presses his face into Spock’s hair, takes a deep breath, lets his hand wander. Vulcan robes are deceptively tricky to open, but McCoy’s engaged to marry a Vulcan so he’s learned certain tricks. 
“Leonard, dinner.” Spock’s hand comes up to cover McCoy’s own as McCoy opens the robe at the throat and pushes his hand into it to feel across the dark hair on Spock’s chest. 
McCoy smirks into the curve of Spock’s throat. “Dinner can wait, Darlin’” 
Spock makes a soft, slightly annoyed noise and turns his face to kiss McCoy on the lips. McCoy reaches behind him and yanks back the traditional gauze curtains around the bed. Something tears, not that McCoy really cares; he’s never been fond of them anyway. Spock suddenly pushes McCoy down onto the bed, falls on top of him and kisses him fiercely. 
There aren’t seasons on New Vulcan like there are on Earth, and it makes McCoy feel uneasy. Everything about New Vulcan makes McCoy feel uneasy, except for the house, except for living in the house with Spock. 
There isn’t such a thing as summer on New Vulcan, but the house always reminds McCoy of summer anyway. 

II.
The house on Earth is very different; it’s a huge and old farmhouse. McCoy had gotten it from a friend not realizing that when the friend said ‘fixer-upper’ what he really meant was the house was a trashed wreck, disused and full of garbage. Jim said it had character, Scotty called it a challenge, and Uhura refused to go anywhere near it for a year. Spock would get a little crease between his eyebrows anytime anyone mentioned it for months after their initial visit, and McCoy referred to it as the ‘pit of despair.’ They made it at least habitable the first shore leave and then worked on fixing it up bit by bit every time they were back on Earth. 
Spock tastes like dust and cinnamon, and smells like fresh paint. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt, which is soft against McCoy’s hands as McCoy pushes it up and kisses down Spock’s belly; Spock moves a little fretfully against him, one hand tangled in McCoy’s hair. 
“We should not be engaging in any form of intimacy on the living room floor, Leonard,” Spock tells him even as McCoy undoes Spock’s belt and pops open the button on his jeans. 
“It’s our house.” McCoy kisses just below Spock’s bellybutton, “We can do what we like.” 
Spock tugs sharply on McCoy’s hair and McCoy sighs a little sadly and pushes himself up. Spock just looks at him for a long moment then loops his arms around McCoy’s neck and pulls him down for a long kiss, pushing one of his knees up between McCoy’s thighs while he’s at it. McCoy grins against the other man’s mouth and kisses him back, then slips back down Spock’s body and kisses his hip where the waistband of Spock’s jeans used to be. McCoy thinks Spock tastes like smoke and falling leaves, and the metal of Spock’s wedding band feels cool against his face where Spock cups his cheek. 

III.
It’s raining the first time McCoy goes to either house alone. The five-year mission is over and Spock is off with his father on some diplomatic mission to a planet McCoy has never even heard of. Jim is clamoring for McCoy to help him plot to get the Enterprise back, and Starfleet wants him to teach at the Medical School. 
It’s raining and smells like the end of autumn when McCoy lets himself into the house, and house feels cold and damp, the air settling heavily against his skin. He turns the heat on, turns on the lights, takes a shower and changes out of his uniform. He lies on the couch and checks the computer to see if there is a message of Spock, which there isn’t, and McCoy closes his eyes. He listens to the rain, and listens to the silence of the house, listens to himself breathe, and he waits. 
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