The Other Wordly Meme

[ex_victimized943]

The Other-Wordly Meme

Words are magical things; they can have so many lovely connotations and varied histories.
Words have family trees just like people. They are linked to each other.
Some words are full of flavor and color and describe things you never suspected there were words for.
Words are why we're here.

The meme is simple: post a comment with your muse's name and canon in the subject line.
List any preferences you may have ("No Shipping," "No Smut," etc.), if you decide to leave the next step up to responders.
Responders (or original posters, if they so decide), go to the Other-Wordly blog and hit 'Random' until you get a word. Use the word as a prompt to write up an RP scenario. Do this several times, if you like. Mix and match. Have fun with it!
Don't stop with a word, though! Words can often have etymologies that are at odds with their current meanings. Words can shift connotations over time. Let your imagination carry you with the words as its wind.

Comments

[drunqualified]

"Yeah, that's right, what was it? Inconvenient?"

The southern drawl that creeps into his voice is a combination of exhaustion and instinct. McCoy is pretty sure that he's ready to toss sense right out the airlock. It would be a damn good time to do so. "But, here is the other thing, you also said I was attractive."

Or more exactly, Spock didn't deny it when McCoy asked him to. "Which I'm pretty sure means that you're attracted to me too."

It didn't necessarily follow, but his grasp on logic was tenuous at the moment. Bones tugged a little on Spock's sleeve, walking backward and seeing if the Commander would follow him.

"I intend to kiss you tonight, Spock. So, if that idea scares you, or if it's just too inconvenient for you, it's probably better if you head out before I do."

[ozhika]

Perhaps Bones can't see it, but one of Spock's eyebrows is definitely up there. This is certainly a different side of the other man, and while he might have better sense, Spock can't help being curious about just how deep and how honeyed that accent can go. He can feel the pent-up frustration, the tinge of exhaustion, and inclination to disregard previous reservations gnaw up his forearms from the other like an irritable swarm of ants. It's all Spock can do to muffle it, though not completely mute it.

It would take the doctor a full-bodied yank to make the Vulcan move anywhere he didn't want to go. The fabric of his sleeve stretches taut in the older man's hand for a second, two, as Spock either decides his next course of action, waits to see if McCoy's resolve hangs on, or both. But then, Spock is stepping after him slowly, lending slack.

"Future inconvenience can only be speculated, Doctor, but I would speculate the trend thus far would continue, and deal you the proverbial lion's share," A hand lands, warm, on one of McCoy's bare hips, and suddenly they are dancing again; the doctor leading in the exactly opposite way of convention and Spock following him step for step. "And if I were to be scared of anything, the candidates would be far more fearsome than your mouth... Though not, perhaps, quite so unwise to engage."

[drunqualified]

He was right about one thing. If this continued, it was going to be Bones who wound up with the majority of the headaches. Just by their very natures.

"You know what I'm getting out of that, Spock." The warm fingers on his hips feel like a victory of some kind. He's been patient. Spock might only have been in this dance for a day or so, but Bones has been following the steps ever since that one mission. He lets Spock catch up to him now, his hand sliding up to the Vulcan's shoulder. Vaguely they are in the same frame as their dance on the Nansai planet, though they only have two hands each with which to hold and touch.

McCoy's thumb brushes a swipe along Spock's neck.

"You want me to kiss you."

Though, like his accent, he is seemingly in no hurry. The speed of his heartbeat and the hitch of McCoy's breath are contrasting his lazy words.

[ozhika]

Spock would surely contest a claim of patience for what he's witnessed, but this is an admittedly preferable way to ambush him. It's still a little awkward on his end, but he does not let his steps falter as he lets the doctor gradually guide him toward an unknown destination. He could say his hand is on the man's hip now to make sure the other doesn't trip, walking backward over the slight clutter, but it'd only be half true. His fingertips twitch against the other's skin as a cool thumb sweeps up his neck, curling minutely around the curve of a hip.

"I find the idea neither frightening nor inconvenient."

Surely Bones didn't expect him to admit to such a thing so easily, so explicitly. There's a little more to it than just the routine of repartee. He can hear the hitch in the man's breath; his thumb finds the jut of a pelvic bone, traces it up to see if it changes. He is not hasty either - there's a saying about fools and rushing in.

[drunqualified]

He didn't expect a 'yes, of course, take me now' or anything. The answer that Bones did get was enough affirmation for what he was looking for though, and his grin widens a little. Shifting close by a half a step, McCoy doesn't have any music playing in the background of his quarters, but he's leading the dance this time.

The quiet that envelopes them is a result of McCoy's abandoning conversation in favor of keeping this peaceful moment as long as he can. All too aware that his tendency to stick his own foot in his mouth seems to double or triple whenever Spock is around.

When he finally does lean in, he makes sure that it comes as no surprise to the Vulcan. Meeting Spock's eyes for a long second and then tilting his own head for a better angle. McCoy starts the kiss at the side of Spock's mouth, a light brush of pressure at the corner, and then, so he couldn't be considered a coward, Bones slides his lips fully over the other's.

Spock's thumb is doing wicked things to his hip bone, and McCoy wonders if he is actually going insane, or if there was something about the small gestures that weighed more meaningfully than the large ones, sometimes. For example, here he was, standing around barely dressed, and there was no doubt in his mind that Spock was just as appealing in full uniform as Bones ever could hope to be in his altogether. He smiled softly as he lingered a few moments longer in the kiss, and when he broke it gently, he wasn't inclined to pull back far. Tough telepath or not, Bones rested his forehead against Spock's and waited for the other man to process.

[ozhika]

It's true that Spock is, and has been, given more than ample time to understand what's about to transpire and opportunity make objections to it. He hasn't, and he won't. He lets the doctor come in close and meets the man's eyes steadily, absorbs the curve of that grin before it's pressing against the side of his lips, slides over to meet them in full. Maybe McCoy is afraid of what he's doing now, but Spock wouldn't call him a coward. Ever.

Spock lets himself be kissed, and wonders. For some reason, he hadn't expected it to be so tender, but he cannot ascribe any other adjective to the soft pressure of the other's lips against his, or the tenuous warmth that seems to trickle down his own throat just beneath his skin. It's decidedly pleasant, even if Spock doesn't elect to participate; his thumb stopped the moment McCoy's mouth met his.

When their foreheads meet, the Vulcan's eyelids are laid a bit lower, as if pensive. Loading, loading.... His fingers twitch against McCoy's hip and his wrist follows, sending just the tips of those tapered digits skimming up the doctor's side. It almost as if he'd been temporarily waylaid from some study of the other man's bare torso except, right about the time he's reached the first floating rib on that side, Spock tilts his head in. It's not exactly a kiss so much as he has their lips touch, just barely; enough space runs between them still that a thin, warm breath passes once from Spock's mouth and washes against McCoy's. A full second passes between that bit of contact before finally, finally the Vulcan's lips seal themselves against the human's.

[drunqualified]

McCoy stays careful. Treating this like the most delicate of surgeries, or like his last sip of whiskey. He wants to savor the slow press and the heat of Spock's skin. The Vulcan could very well be an inferno wrapped up in flesh, for the way that he feels this close.

The hand on Spock's neck curls around behind it, anchoring them in place. He isn't quite brave enough to sneak his other hand up under the other man's shirt, but it's a close thing. Bones skims his palm over the fabric of the uniform, resting it eventually, somewhat to the side of the small of Spock's back.

He is a participant in the kiss. It would be impossible for McCoy to stand there and wait as patiently as Spock had. Bones parts his lips just enough to add a slightly different dynamic to how their mouths fit together. Taking time, losing track of time, McCoy would gladly let this stretch on forever. Of course, that isn't really a possibility. Not for them.

Eventually, the weight of the day catches up to Bones once more. He can feel a yawn building in his throat and rather than allow it to transfer into the kiss and send the wrong signal entirely, he pulls his mouth apart from Spock's and kisses down the side of the Vulcan's jaw. He will let the yawn out when he reaches the curve of Spock's neck. Sighing, and nuzzling that spot afterward.

[ozhika]

The level of care doesn't go unnoticed, and altogether it continues to perplex the Vulcan. Up until tonight, the other's presentation of his interest had seemed... rather aggressive. In theory, Spock knew the man must be capable of patience and delicacy, but there's an odd and instinctual precision about the doctor now. This time, when their mouths separate, there's a little bit of a shudder in Spock's breathing where it had been even before. The fingers curling around the back of his neck has him stiffly, but obligingly lowering his head so his jaw is more accessible.

He touches the elbow of the hand on his stomach but does not push it away. His other hand flattens against the older man's ribs, soaking up the vibrations of the beating heart beneath. One gently cages the other, and as much as Spock feels uncomfortable in some ways, in others, this is... nice. He can see how easy it would be for someone more human to want to lean into that embrace, to want to soak up the feel of the other man's skin in full.

But it's not like Spock to lose track of time, and it's not in him to forget they both have a duty to this ship, even if he (or, well, Bones) could delay it for a little while. There's a reason why he and Nyota decided that they couldn't stay together, despite loving each other.

"Perhaps you should rest, Doctor," His tone is quiet, lips almost brushing against the ship surgeon's ear. His fingers trace their way over a bicep, settle over the crook between McCoy's neck and shoulder. "If I may assume you still expect to report to your next scheduled shift."

[drunqualified]

"Yeah."

It's a tough decision, to make up his mind that he's had enough of consciousness when he plainly hasn't had enough of Spock. However, time didn't stop just because Leonard McCoy wanted it to. That was a courtesy that time had never afforded him before and wouldn't now. With a reluctant sigh and a soft press of a kiss against the Vulcan's neck, Bones raises his head back, but doesn't step back.

"You don't have to leave, if you don't want to." Which isn't an invitation to engage in any kind of sexual conduct. Though it is an intimacy that Spock is probably not ready for, in any event. McCoy takes a small breath. "...forget it, it's too soon, I know."

Bones makes that final gesture of removing himself from the still dance. Shifting back until his arms fall down empty. "I'm going to hit the sack now, Commander. I guess I'll be seeing you again?"

There is a slight worry in the back of his mind now, if he lets Spock walk out the door, this will all just get brushed under the rug of emotional deniability.

[ozhika]

For his own part, Spock remains silent as the other man argues with himself over Spock's own opinion and the appropriateness of his proposal. It calls to mind memories of what it had been to lie in bed with another, the sort of tranquility that could come with neither being fully awake nor asleep and listening to another sophisticated body regulate itself nearby. It was not a comfort per se, but with the right person, it was undoubtedly a pleasant experience. Spock's first impulse is to agree.

But he is not a man driven by impulse, and this topic of intimacy requires further logical reflection... which, really, is always the case with the Vulcan. Without a set amount of time constraints, there is very little he would not choose to dissect to its end. For instance, McCoy's insistence that he was due to kiss Spock in the very near future forced him to decide rather quickly rather or not he would allow, or indeed participate in it. Now that he has, there is further data to study. Moving any further when he has no concrete self-analysis on what he feels about the doctor would be... inadvisable, not to mention unfair.

When the older man steps back, Spock does not stop him, but nor does he drop his hands until the man has succeeded in wholly detaching himself from their contact. Slowly, he moves to lace his fingers behind his back and shifts into his more customary stance.

"That seems highly probable," After all, they did work together, and the ship was only so large. Spock isn't wholly obtuse to the man's meaning, though. After a moment, he nods his head. "I believe I may find the possibility agreeable. Sleep well, Doctor."

[drunqualified]

Being the gentleman that he is, Bones is inclined to walk Spock back to the door.

"Pleasant dreams, Spock."

McCoy keeps himself from reaching back out to the Vulcan. Just because his emotions are in a tailspin over a few simple kisses, doesn't mean that he's lost all perspective. Bones always had a tendency to jump head in with romantic entanglements, and... yes, he did often end up doing some damn stupid things in the process. Downshifting this thing wasn't just for Spock's benefit. It was also a good idea for the doctor who'd be spending a good number of years with this man, whether an intimate connection proved to be a good idea or a bad one. He had to live with the changes just as much as the Commander did.

Bones needed to be sure that he could handle the fall out. It was the responsible thing.

.....

Not four hours after Spock left, Bones was waked again by a ring on his door. This time it was Jim, and it wasn't a personal call. The boy Captain was fairly livid at the order he'd received from Starfleet, emergency personnel dispatch. Dr McCoy's expertise was required on a planet that suffered from an unknown plague. Since Enterprise was unable to escort the doctor, a shuttle was prepped and ready to pass him off to the next Starship on it's way.

"Pack your shit, Bones. They don't know how long it'll take."