What it means to be Doctor McCoy; these are the ways

The feel of warmth

That morning Spock was laid on top of the older man's chest. McCoy had one hand behind his back and the other hand laid on the Vulcan's hair. His thoughts were off on the elder. The elder's skeptical eyebrow raise at the mention of Ambassador Spock. He had to tell the kid when they met again in private after breakfast. The Vulcan was purring curled to the side of the colder man's body. Spock yawned. Was he even not sure that his Spock was here? McCoy was pretty that they came from the same timeline.

Spock did not have a long chin nor hollow cheeks.

Ambassador Spock, however, did.

"Nashaut, T'hy'la," Spock said, with a soft purr sending affection and warmth through their bond.

"Nashaut, T'hy'la," McCoy said, unraveling his hand from behind his head then held out his two fingers for the Vulcan. He decided to keep it back when he met up with the captain. "how is your headache?"

"It is acceptable," Spock said. McCoy smiled. "did the captain make his leave to his quarters after last night?"

"I helped him to bed," McCoy said.

"How unsettling," Spock said. "normally he would be spending the night after meeting a love interest."

"Under the circumstances, he couldn't stay down there," McCoy said.

"Hmm," Spock said. "I sense you are feeling dread."

"We are off duty, sweety," McCoy said. He stroked the hair of the Vulcan with his long, soft surgeon hands. "and oh my goood, look at ya, ya should be usin' a mirror on ya," McCoy fanned himself with his free hand. "ya look beautiful."

Spock raised a slanted eyebrow,

"No," Spock said. "the one who looks beautiful is you."

A blush grew on the doctors cheeks.

"Then we are both beautiful," McCoy said.

"Logically," Spock replied.

"Say . . . ." McCoy Prime said. "have ya talked with ya father lately?"

"He is taking care of my brother's children and juggling being a Ambassador," Spock said. "he does not have the time, respectively, for a idle chat."

"Oh," McCoy said. "well, it's always nice to chat with a parent who is still alive."

The Vulcan raised his head up tilting it similar to a cat that had its curiosity pinged.

"Did you meet a father figure on the planet?" Spock asked.

"Sort of," McCoy said. "Spock, look, at least ya have a parent. Do ya even send a fathers day present for him?"

"Gifting to him is a unwise decision," Spock said. "as he will not be able to appreciate with how busy he is."

"Why don't ya write a poem?" McCoy asked.

"I have considered it," Spock said. "but I do not wish for it to come off as romantic or sounding inadequate."

"Scared of writin' ya own kin a poem," McCoy said, a bemused smile grew on his face looking down upon the Vulcan lovingly. "and here I thought Vulcans had the confidence for that."

"Leonard," Spock said. "establishing our union took less courage than it does sending my father a poem."

"You mean more courage not less," McCoy said.

"No," Spock said.

"Then why?" McCoy said.

Spock was silent for a few minutes.

"What if . . . it is . . . terrible?" the words rolled off the man's tongue slowly but with precision.

McCoy's concerned expression softened.

"Spock, Spock," McCoy said, "ya the biggest nerd there is in poetry. Reminding him how much ya care . . ." McCoy thought back to the fathers day cards that he gave to his father and mothers day cards. "He will like it."

Spock paused.

"I shall contemplate it," The Vulcan laid his head down on the human's chest.

"Just because ya Vulcan does not mean that ya Vulcan't," McCoy said.

A smile teased on the Vulcan's lips at the comment.

"My shift begins in fifteen minutes," Spock said. "may we remain on the bed until then?"

"Nurse Chapel can deal with two idiot ensign without me," McCoy said, stroking the man's bedside hair straightening it out. Spock's hair was fine, and soft in a way that reminded McCoy of fine silk. "I see every reason why."