Title: Winner Takes All (3/?)
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy; also S/Mc, K/S, K/Mc.
Warnings: slavery, dub-con
Summary: Mirror!verse, post first five-year mission. Two bitter rivals are at war over a prize possession.
Previous Part: 1 | 2
Or read at AO3
Spock is not merely calculating; he is a mastermind.
A plan takes finesse and meticulous thought; it takes patience and strong will. Spock has long excelled at each of these aspects—which is probably why the Empire allowed him the rank of Commander when the rest of his race are the expendable lieutenants or easily replaced scientists. Spock is different, half-Human, and a product of careful engineering on the Empire’s behalf. He hypothesizes that the Council will use many tactics to ensure his cooperation, to impress upon him his dependence on the good will of the Empire; he is not disappointed. No, Spock is, if anything, rewarded by their typical behavior. It’s an important element in his carefully conceived plan for domination, after all.
It begins quite simply after he discovers the reason behind the disappearances of Kirk’s enemies. He thinks on this device for many days, decides that he must have it (makes discreet study of it). There is the matter of the Captain, who Spock could easily destroy in a heartbeat with his own device; however, Spock knows with absolute certainty that even if he achieves the Captaincy of the Enterprise, it won’t be enough to attain his goal.
So he needs Kirk. He needs the Captain vulnerable, obsessed and pliable to the Vulcan’s will. The waiting shall be long, but Spock has plenty of time.
The Captain takes him to bed intermittently throughout the first half of their five-year mission. Kirk loves variety in his partners of fornication, but he also has a desire for a man that won’t bow to him—the CMO. When Spock sets his plan into motion, he considers the doctor, at first, as a wild card. By then Kirk finally convinces McCoy to sleep with him—without force, which the Vulcan finds a fascinating display of strange Human behavior—and their relationship is a impediment to Spock. Until the night Kirk shares him with McCoy.
McCoy enjoys watching Kirk take Spock, but it is that flicker in the doctor’s eyes and McCoy’s deliberate slide of fingers across the Vulcan’s face that gives Spock the first underpinnings of his plan. Leonard McCoy is jealous. A Human’s jealousy is one of his greatest weaknesses; it highlights for Spock that which he must accomplish in the latter half of the Enterprise’s commission.
Thus begins the game. It is simple enough to employ the weapon which the Empire cannot take from Spock without destroying him entirely—his mind. One carefully planted desire into the Captain for more-mine, and Spock’s trysts with Kirk increase in frequency. McCoy is more difficult to affect, in the beginning; Spock has only the meager advantage during physical evaluations or medical repair. Then, in a turn of good fortune, Kirk allows McCoy to take his satisfaction from the Vulcan after a heated argument over Kirk’s inability to share. Spock remains expressionless (always) as McCoy twists and pulls and rides through orgasm against him, but his Vulcan hands stay locked onto that sweat-slick skin, feeds the doctor a latent sense of distrust and suspicion.
After that, Kirk wants Spock with him, riding him, often; touches Spock in public to brand him as Kirk’s. McCoy watches with cold eyes and corners the Vulcan for silent inspection, as if the doctor might figure out what it is that Kirk wants from his First Officer besides sex. Tight-lipped and scowling, he lets Kirk dictate their bedroom games, incorporate Spock into them, and Spock is able to effectively enhance the doctor’s sense of paranoia.
The crescendo happens like a starburst. Moreau, who knows of Kirk’s weapon, plots (at Spock’s careful quiet hinting) against her lover—half from jealousy, half in memory of another (alternate) Kirk. As the five-year mission comes grindingly to a stand-still, there is a night when Moreau secludes herself in the Captain’s quarters, and Spock informs his superior of (the rumor of) her intentions to destroy him. By the time Kirk is able to break through the door (with Spock’s help), she is attempting to focus the screen on Kirk and the Captain has little option but to blast the device with his phaser into a gaping hole of melted wires and a shower of sparks.
Moreau is screaming Spock and you lied to me as the Vulcan disarms her and just as swiftly crushes her mind into insanity and disjointed thoughts. Thereafter, through long torture sessions, she can only bleat to Kirk about betrayal and how Spock has taken her place; more often, that Kirk is not the man he should be, that his demise sets right a wrong. Kirk watches on in disgust and rage. She is executed and her body dropped into space.
James T. Kirk is weakened to a man like the rest. He is more short-tempered than usual, spending hours in conversation with Starfleet Command rather than in conquest. The sex, sparse in occurrence, is rough, short and distracted. Spock continues to saturate the Captain’s mind and, expectedly, Kirk bites out to Spock, “I need you” as he shudders with release. McCoy, the voyeur, silently slides from the quarters and Spock watches him go with dark knowing eyes.
The doctor grows restless and agitated, vicious in his work, as the final day draws near. So it is that McCoy plays the last act much like a puppet. The Enterprise crew is solicitously welcomed home, Kirk named Admiral (as McCoy goes white), and the doctor allowed his request for retirement and a parting gift. When Leonard McCoy says, in that thick (malevolent) drawl, “I’ll take the Vulcan,” Spock is secretly pleased. Kirk goes stiff as Spock walks to the doctor’s side and kneels at his feet.
McCoy’s parting “See ya, Admiral” rings through the hall. Spock is led away.
If the Empire believes that the Vulcan needs a taste of slavery under the hand of a Human to become compliant, they are gravely mistaken. Spock is the perfect companion—and a deception-in-waiting. McCoy secures protection from the Council partially due to Spock’s presence (which they want to preserve), though McCoy cannot know this. And when the moment arrives that McCoy and Kirk shall meet again, the Vulcan has most details in place: the recalibrated mechanics of Kirk’s device, a potential method of infiltration into the Council of the Emperor, and two Humans primed for the taking.
The abductors come for Spock in his science lab, and he does not resist. When he is left in an empty room with a single flickering light and mostly shadows, he does not flinch at the sound of Kirk’s voice or at the hands that dig into his waist.
The Human leans against his back, lips against the Vulcan’s skin.
Spock tilts his head to the left and Kirk takes the opportunity to bite down on the exposed juncture of neck and shoulder. He replies, in an even voice, as Kirk sucks a mark, “I am the property of Leonard McCoy.”
That’s all it takes; Kirk shoves him forward with a snarl and Spock catches himself against the wall. (No fighting; no resistance.) “Are you?” the Human demands as he presses the Vulcan flat. Spock’s hands are locked over his head. (Such foolish Humans.) Spock allows the restraint.
“I am the property of Leonard McCoy.”
The Admiral drives a knee between his legs. “You’re mine.”
“Negative.” Spock informs him, “Should you wish to reclaim me, Captain—” The word is selectively lower than the rest of the sentence; it has the desired effect—Kirk is listening. “—you must ask the Doctor.”
“Bones wants me to beg, does he? I’ll cut his heart out.”
“I do not presume to know the Doctor’s intentions.”
Kirk releases him, then, and Spock remains motionless, listening to the man’s heavy breaths. Finally, Kirk asks, “Where?”
Spock gives him the time and location for a meeting. Before the Admiral leaves, he drags the Vulcan around for a kiss, breaks the skin of Spock’s lower lip so that it bleeds. It’s a message to McCoy, one which Spock will be most satisfied to present.
McCoy shreds Spock’s clothes the moment they are inside their apartment. He looks at each bruise—on the wrists, the love-bite at the neck, and dark swelling on the Vulcan’s inner thighs. Leonard seethes.
So Jim did it. Jim fucking went ahead and placed his hands on Spock. When Spock walked into his office and Leonard saw the bloodied lip, it almost broke his control right then and there. Sure, he’s been waiting for some type of move like this, a call to battle, but he had not anticipated the kind of thrilling fury it brings to the surface.
The two men—Kirk and McCoy—have been trading “gifts” for the past month. Kirk sends a whore to his office; McCoy sends back her hand. A soft traditional Vulcan robe (new, not one of Spock’s) laid out across his bed? It’s returned to the Admiral covered in green blood and stinking of sex. (The doctor enjoyed fucking Spock on it, very much so.) The messages get sharper, uglier—more dangerous. Leonard almost enjoys the game, waiting for the next clash.
Then Kirk steps across that invisible line, finally, and Leonard is livid.
“Did he fuck you?” Leonard demands as he probes the Vulcan for the answer.
“You lying to me? Did you enjoy it?”
“Negative. There was no copulation, Doctor.”
Leonard removes his fingers, wraps them around Spock’s wrist and tugs him into the bedroom. “On the bed.”
Spock sits down on the edge and watches him with those unnerving eyes. Leonard kneels in front of him and runs his hands up the exposed, green-tinted thighs. His fingers press down on the hipbones.
“What did Jim say?”
Spock blinks at him. “The Admiral requests… communication with you.”
“We’ve been communicating.” Just not with words. So Jimmy-boy thinks he can get Leonard this way; lure the doctor in and probably slit his throat, then screw Spock over his cooling corpse. (Not gonna happen.) His scar burns and he thinks he hears a faint echo of his ex-wife’s screams as he cut her open.
“Tell me,” Leonard orders.