Work Text:
The first thing to appear in Spock’s quarters was a medkit.
Every set of quarters had an emergency medkit stored away in a compartment, but this one was different. It was more heavily stocked, for one thing, and it also contained a large quantity of emergency hypos intended for Spock’s unique physiology, which of course no other medkit contained.
When Spock asked McCoy about it, he merely shrugged. “I like being prepared.”
They didn’t discuss it again.
After that, Spock started to notice that more and more of McCoy’s personal items were taking up residence in his quarters. Books and PADDs stacked up quickly, as did clothes and hygiene products – these were logical as McCoy started spending the night more often. But other things appeared too, like holophotos of McCoy with various friends and family, including some of him and Spock with dubious origins, and strange knickknacks. Spock had woken up one morning to find a skull of an animal he didn’t recognize staring him directly in the face.
He had stared at it for a while, then discretely moved it to McCoy’s side of the bed without comment.
It wasn’t until weeks later, when he was sharing a quiet breakfast with McCoy as per usual, that it occurred to him that they were essentially living together.
He stopped eating. He couldn’t remember the last time McCoy had slept in his own quarters. Nor could he remember the last time he himself had been in McCoy’s quarters.
The realization didn’t bother him as much as he once would’ve thought. In fact, he rather enjoyed the quiet intimacy of sharing their space, of knowing that he would get off shift and find McCoy waiting for him or returning shortly after him. Every night he looked forward to burrowing into McCoy’s warmth, his never-ending supply an indulgent comfort after a day of tolerating the ship’s standard temperature, which was just slightly too cold for the average Vulcan. And during their downtime, they lounged together in comfortable silence, argued to their hearts’ content, loved each other fiercely, and moved like the other had always been there.
Evidently, he had adapted to living together a long time ago.
But they had never actually discussed it.
“Leonard,” Spock said, catching McCoy’s eye, “would you move in with me?”
It was silent for a moment. Then McCoy shot him a lopsided grin. “I kind of already have, Spock.”
Warmth blossomed in Spock’s side, though he only tried half-heartedly to suppress it. “I am aware of this. However, I wanted to make it official.”
McCoy raised his eyebrows. “Official as in both of us acknowledging that we live together?”
Spock tilted his head. “Yes, but I was thinking more along the lines of changing the plaque on the door and your residential records in the ship’s computer.”
McCoy’s mouth turned into a silent ‘oh’. Spock almost wondered with a pinch of apprehension if he had somehow pushed things too far, but then that grin was back, brighter than ever. “I think I’d like that very much.”
Pleased, Spock reached out and touched his wrist. McCoy took his hand, joy flowing off his skin. Nothing had changed really, but it still felt monumental, exhilarating. Their relationship was established, documented, planned for. Logical, even.
And if that meant that Spock woke up to more and more animal skulls staring at him every morning, then so be it. He was more than content with the life they had chosen together.