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Bones wakes sleepy and grumpy as ever to the feel of lips pressed to his bicep then his elbow, fingers ghosting over his forehead and down his jaw. He blinks his eyes open against the soft light of the bedroom and finds Spock, his own eyes heavy with sleep staring back.
“Don’t usually get that kind of wake up call from you.” His voice is still heavy after the night before, but he shuffles closer despite his grumpy response.
“You were dreaming.” Spock answers, as though that explains it, and he opens his arms to pull Bones closer, kissing his temple.
“You been spying on me in my sleep?” Bones grins, turning his face so he can kiss Spock’s chest, his throat, whatever hot skin he can find.
“I could feel you dreaming.” Spock all but whispers, moving them and twisting himself until they’re aligned, fingers tracing down Bones’ body until Bones gasps.
It’s a lazy rub and pull of Spock’s hand and delicate finger tips, edging Bones closer and closer but never quite there. Sometimes he never manages to get there and in the past it had destroyed him and anyone he was with. With Spock he’s safe - Spock understands biological disfunction for what it is and not a reflection of Leonard’s feelings. Spock has never pushed him, never even questioned it, he’s just a sure, solid presence easing off when McCoy coiled tighttighttighter but never could get there.
Back here, lazy and warm beneath white sheets he arches his back, whining under his breath as he tries to chase his climax, rutting against Spock’s hand desperate and stiflingly hot now. Spock holds him close with his free arm wrapped round him, kissing his lips over and over.
“Breathe. Just breathe Leonard.” And his voice is like a caress, so soft and calm whispered between them, so different from hard edges and hollow logic when he’s on the bridge. This is his Spock, the one he doesn’t have to share with anyone, not even Jim. He feels his toes curl, fingers cramping they’re clutching at Spock’s chest so tightly.
“I need— Dammit Spock—” Bones tries not to make it sound so pathetic, so desperate. He needs just something more, just an edge but he doesn’t really understand what it is until Spock’s perfect, gentle fingers are pressing and stretching and pushing inside him. One, then two and Jesus it’s just right, the right angle and the right stretch and Spock’s other hand is still wrapped around his cock and everything is hot and bright and close.
Bones comes hard and breathless, choking on a moan and clutching at Spock like he were a drowning man. Spock soothes him, fingers sliding through the sweat at the small of his spine, trailing over trembling limbs.
“You were dreaming of me.” Spock whispers, lips soft against Bones’ temples again.
“So you were spying…?” Bones smiles and tips his head so that Spock can kiss his lips.
“I was sleeping.” Spock doesn’t smile, not quite, but Bones can feel it there between them anyway. “I was sleeping. You woke me.”
“Sleep now.” Bones murmurs, Spock tucking his face into the hollow under Bones’ chin.