Hey, youse Trekkers, it's moi again. Second story in the TOS fandom, can't get too much of this place. Like it is IMPOSSIBLE.
Title: My Infinity
Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series
Song: Open Arms by Journey. Listen to it. It's beautiful. I heard the lyrics and was like, that's songfic material.
Shipping: K/S
Rating: T for sexuallllllll ness
Disclaimer: Hell, if any of us even remotely owned Star Trek, we wouldn't be here...
Lying beside you…
Here in the dark…
You are asleep, wrapped loosely around me here, dreaming what I hope are peaceful dreams.
Your arms, as if on instinct, tighten around my body when I attempt movement, holding me secure in your sleeping embrace. But I do not mind. Your human warmth is comforting against my bare skin. Our fingers are still entwined, your last exhausted caress still buzzing on the tips after the first taste of passion we shared. I cannot help but watch you as you sleep, tracing the lines of your body, memorizing you. An illogical sense of possession comes to me, and for once, I welcome the emotion. You are mine. As I am yours.
I move my head between your neck and shoulder, and through your human skin, I can hear the beating of your heart with mine. Such synchronization should not be possible, with our differing biologies, but you will often defy the laws of science. I close my eyes, and allow the sounds, the movement of our blood throughout our bodies; the beats of our perfectly harmonized hearts; each intake of air to your lungs, to fill my sensitive ears.
Feeling your heart beat with mine…
You stir gently in our embrace, slipping out of your dreams to murmur my name into my shoulder, then tuck yourself deeper in my arms. You breath comes out in sigh as light as wind's memory, and at first I cannot make out your words. As I realize your hushed, drowsy declaration, my heart is struck with sweet surprise. Followed closely by the uninvited sting of illogic. Why should you love me? How? To love something incapable of such extensive emotion would be to love an inanimate object. But still, your feathery whisper hangs in the air, inescapable, illogical, though I will not give it up.
Softly you whisper…
You're so sincere…
How could our love be so blind?
It is at these times that you seem softest. Most vulnerable. Things that would stain your image in another's eyes. But you are so willing to give it up for a few moments in my arms, for a touch that can only linger, for a love that should never stay.
We sailed on together…
…as only we can, and could have. At times, we seem almost inseparable, not only in our own view, but, as I can hear from whispered conversation drenched in gossip, in everyone else's as well. Somehow, you never appear to notice, going on every day as the Captain everyone expects you to be. They say I have received the degree of your affection that had previously been reserved for your ship itself. It is illogical that the comparison should upset me so. This ship does not think, observe you so intently as I. It does not bring out of you that which you try to hide. It does not receive your heated embrace, your gentle murmurs in the dark, that look of knowing that dances in your mischievous hazel eyes.
I do. And I do not wish to give it up. No matter how illogical, or inevitable. Unfortunately, fate often ignores desire.
We drifted apart…
…an occurrence that seems to approach silently, hidden in actions ceased or continued. The battles between my alien and human halves require so much more patience and understanding than your fragile human soul is capable of. I will be passionate and open one moment, and then frigid and joyless the next. Too many times I leave you to wake alone in the morning, skin still burning with the memory of our intense reach for ecstasy. Too often do I see your features fringed with hurt when I coldly refuse your touch, no matter how innocent. And no matter how much I crave it. I have never despised both sides of me to this height of hatred. Your tolerance of my actions makes it hurt that much more. It makes me yearn to the extent of my heart that my spirit would accept the love you offer me. Unconditionally. And yet…
And here you are by my side…
Days go by, you do not approach me. Perhaps I have given you hope and struck it down too often that you can no longer bear the pain. Our nights are spent alone, in our own separate quarters. Before, while on the bridge, we would both go out of our ways to speak to each other. Now, we converse only as needed, our words brief and to the point. They all can sense it. The hostility between us now. I wish it did no need to be this way. But I do not know what to do.
Sleep rarely comes for me, but now it seems an impossibility. Flames flicker lightly on meditation candles placed throughout my room, the scents meant to calm and soothe my battling mind. What they achieve in reality leaves much to be desired.
Of course, I do not attempt to meditate. The effectiveness would be low and insufficient. So, instead, I allow the problem's factors to play through my mind in an attempt to find a logical answer to this deep equation.
The contradicting conflicts are painfully obvious. My arms are empty, alone, without you, and yet when you are here, the illogic of our shared emotions plagues my mind to an almost unbearable point. I can neither live with, or without you. Never close, but incapable of extensive distance. I find my self craving again your love, your soft human lips that pressed so longingly to my own, your hoarse cried of intense passion. For once, I could bring out what, in me, seemed so agonizingly human and allow the emotion to my logical mind. I cannot deny what is there, and yet…
For once there is no argument from that side of me.
Could loving you be most right?
So now I come to you…
With open arms…
When your door finally swishes open, you appear to have no reaction to my presence. Your deep hazel eyes are tired, and I almost walk away then. For you too, it seems, sleep did not come easily tonight. But I resist the urge to run, and also fight back every impulse to steal you into my arms in this very moment. I have bared my heart, if but for the instant, but must approach this logically. After everything I have done, everything I forced your tender heart to bear, you deserve at least that. You allow me inside, but I cannot help but to feel a sense of hostility in your tired silence.
Nothing to hide…
I tell you as much as I am capable of, not wishing to reserve everything, and yet logic holds some things back. And as much as that pains me, the hurt I am causing you is much greater. You listen yet, staying cornered in your silence. You appear to accept the words I speak, and understand the words I have not. When my voice finally quiets, I wait for your reply. I can feel the apprehension heavy in my eyes, something I can no longer control. Not with you so near me. The passion we shared still burns within my memory, and to have it returned again would be intensely satisfactory.
Your silence seems neverending. Your eyes are exhausted, red around the rims. I want so much to reach out to you.
Believe what I say…
So here I am…
With open arms…
I place my fingers hesitantly, tentatively, over yours, the skin of my fingertips already buzzing from simple touch. You fixed your eyes on our hand, your expression…clouded. Troubled. As if a burden has been laid on your mind. Then, for the first time, you are the one to break the contact.
Hoping you'll see…
The action alone says what you cannot. Your tolerance of my insecurity with myself has been pushed and stretched and broken. You can no longer go on this way.
I will not allow myself to mourn. I promptly shut the door to my soul. Cut off the flow of emotion. You turn away, sensing the change in me. I block everything, force it down, lock it up. I cannot be this way, this… emotion, it flaws me, poisons me, takes away everything just for a few moments of something that can never stay… I hate it.
Even you, great Captain of a starship, have a breaking point.
And I'm the one that broke you. I hate myself for it. I loathe the fact. Inwardly, I am beating myself for it. Perhaps if I can break myself. Perhaps then. You may forgive me.
Of course, I still love you to no end. I cannot control that. But… I cannot have you any longer. I accept this as only I can, a tight-lipped nod, exit your quarters with…what your race has so accurately termed…
A broken heart.
What your love means to me…
I still… love you, Jim.
Open arms.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Days pass, we cannot stop them. And the seem to heal what was fractured in my soul. I decide it was all simply an elongated wave of illogic that made me so weak and vulnerable. Illogic it seemed triggered my human emotions to be set free. A loss of control, one for which I have compensated. Pain, emotion, vulnerability, are all things of the mind. The mind can be controlled…
To an extent.
From that night, I have never reached my deep meditation, total mental control. My thoughts run in cycles, always ending up where they started.
Regret.
Living without you…
I have become nothing more than existence. I am a monotonous being, perhaps my most efficient state, programmed into my work, never stopping. If even just moment is spent without some form of preoccupation, it is inevitable that my thoughts will stray to you. I believe the term, however inaccurately associated, is "love-sick". Though it is illogical that this should affect my health, mental or physical. But I find myself eating even less than before, and my metabolism tries to compensate by stealing away the nutrition from my body. I am often exhausted, speak to no one, and wander the ship's many decks at night, knowing that my quarters only offer me what I already have.
Emptiness.
I realize now that the straightest path to my mind, may be through my heart.
My reality, my duties, they are now all that I have, because I cannot have you.
Living alone…
This empty house seems so cold…
Too often, though never frequently enough, we both glance in each other's direction, our eyes meeting for an instant. It is an instant of joy and pain, tender, irreplaceable memories coming to mind in those simple looks that never seem to last long enough. When we both avert our gazes, I am stung again with that whip of illogic and begin again to doubt my control. Why do you bring out such a sense of guardless exposure in me? I feel as if my carefully controlled mind is dissected, my emotions spilling out for everyone to observe.
Yet these fleeting looks will temporarily fill up a vacant space inside that nothing else can.
You remind me of my human half. The half I will never be able to silence.
Wanting to hold you…
Wanting you near…
…Perhaps the worst moments of forbidden desire.
You are inches away. My self restraint has never faced such a challenge as this. The turbo lift's movement has the passing lights flashing on your stiff form. You stare straight ahead, lips pressed tightly together. Your entire body speaks of coldness, authority, and something near defiance. My soul is not the only one in conflict with itself. But your eyes have always served as the greatest windows to your heart. I see something in them, a need. Something bordering on…thirst.
The silence in this small space is suddenly drawn with the change in your tension. You appear to shrink back in defeat, your shoulders dropping fractionally. Your mouth opens silently, unheard words appear to hang on the tip of your tongue.
But before you can speak, the lift's doors slide open and you abandon the words, stepping swiftly away. Before the doors close again, I capture a glimpse of your clenched fists tight against your sides. Unintended bodily harm often comes with the fight for control, I have often learned.
How much I've wanted you home.
Part of me still hopes…
I let my unfocused gaze sweep along the panes of the ceiling, my thoughts again trapped in that corner of the not-too-distant past. In a rare moment of total absorption, gentler, freer than meditation, memory consumes my mind. Memory of our many stolen kisses, memory of your smooth human skin, memory of the way your heart would seem to match my own, no matter how fast.
I would smile, if the action did not make my internal battles rage again. It was only with your that would even allow the small show of amusement to peek through. You always knew how to pull emotional response from my reserves of self control. But, somehow, I did not mind. It is strange, wanting to show emotion in your presence just to please you. Just to make you love me more.
An even stranger feeling, to strive continually for your affection when all it will provoke in me is more conflict. Perhaps, I realize, the more affection and love I received, led to more war with myself. It is illogical. Yet it is true. Painful though it may be.
Through my cycling thoughts, I almost fail to hear the buzz of the door, signaling someone's arrival and wish to see me. I almost disregard the person, feeling annoyed at this interruption of my memory consummation, then scold myself for allowing emotion to rule my actions. I open the door with the press of a button and stand to greet…
…you.
But now that you've come back…
I know the surprise is evident on my face, and overwhelming in my heart, but I greet you as only I can at the moment. You make no response to your title, but when I inquire as to your intentions, you give up trying to look firm and collected. As if my voice alone triggered weakness after so long. I promptly cease my inquiries, and you ask to enter my quarters in a low, soft voice that a human would not have been able to understand. Though apprehensive, I allow you to pass me into my quarters. My heart gives a lurch, as if trying to jump out to you. I wish for all my existence that it could. You smell as I remember, and in the moment of silence, I listen to you breathe, just like I had before. Memory and longing pokes at my mind and stretches the band of restraint in me.
I turn towards you again, and your mesmerizing deep eyes flicker over my thinning form. I know I am wasting away, and my head bows in shame. My half-closed eyes don't see your hesitation, then your approach, but my ears pick up your movement. Inside, something flutters as I meet your gaze. The temperature in my quarters then seems degrees higher.
Turned night into day…
Something is released with great force the moment our lips touch. Something buried inside so deep and guarded, escaping to my blood with vengeance. Our gentle kiss becomes a heated, longing embrace. I've searched so long for this, wanted it, needed it. My logic flees at the glimpse of our reawakened desire. Fingers grasping locks of hair, hands tugging impatiently at the material of our shirts, feet stumbling as we try to find the mattress without opening our tightly closed eyes, without ceasing contact. We tear clothing, make desperate, almost embarrassing sounds, and clutch each other with enough force to leave visible markings that will swell by morning. But, now that I have you again at last…
I need you…to stay…
A moan breaks from your throat at the instant of your release, a sound that burns my blood with such intensity that I, too, am thrown into ecstasy. All logic and control has abandoned me. I am most human, if but for an instant of euphoria.
So now I come to you…
With open arms…
The room has a strong sense of weight with the sound of our rapid breathing and our mixing scents. You trace my left ear with your thumb, causing a thrilling sensation to pass through my system. You pull my head down to rest on your chest as your try to control your breathing. Your heart beats swiftly beneath your sweat-sleek torso, throbbing against my cheek, and again, I cannot help but marvel at how the rhythm so accurately, so closely matches my own.
Nothing to hide…
Believe what I say…
Every ounce of logic in me fights the words that I had kept in me for so long, but I voice them, regardless of the quarrel inside. You are the subject of my attention, my affection, tonight. I murmur softly into your skin as our breathing quiets and my blood starts to cool. At first, you are silent. I fear you have slipped into slumber, spent and exhausted. But then I perceive the movement of your fingers against my face as they move to trace the lines of my mouth. With your other hand, you grasp my fingers, brushing the skin of my palm with your thumb. I feel the familiar heated buzz melt through my limbs, and for perhaps an instant, both sides of myself are quieted as we try to preserve this sensation.
So here I am…
With open arms…
Hoping you'll see…
What your love means to me…
…the world. Here we fly, among the endless stars and space, and you are my world, my soul, my infinity. I will give anything to cling to this. This emotion, this ecstasy, this simplicity, this…humanity. You have opened my eyes, my arms, and my heart.
"I love you too," you whisper, lips at my ear.
And for the first time I can recall, I am embraced by a slumber that is not the result of fatigue, or of essence. I sleep, simply because I wish to. It will keep me tight in your arms until morning.
Open arms…
I love you, Jim…
So now I come to you…
With open arms…
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*It feels so good to wake up with you again. I almost wish I could just brush everything out of existence so we never have to leave each other's touch. Ever again. I didn't know what you felt over these long days without the passion we had shared, but I can't take the loneliness anymore. I won't give you up, even if I don't truly have you again.
You are already awake, of course, when I open my eyes tiredly, and see your own observing me curiously. I smile, lifting my fingers to touch your lips. You kiss them gently, then entwine your own between. I love the high warmth of your body against mine, cherish the feel of your fast heartbeat, memorize the lines of your thin hand that fits with mine so perfectly.
Yet I can't help but wonder what you're thinking. That mind of yours… Shrouded in mystery and doubt. How do you feel? Do you feel at all?
You seem to sense my wondering thoughts, but don't say anything. Instead, you lower your head to let your lips meet mine, a heated buzz spreading across my skin at the touch.
Nothing to hide…
Believe what I say…
Later, as I begin to dress, you sit up in bed, regarding me with those deep eyes of yours, the corners of your lips slightly pulled up…or perhaps it's just a figment of my imagination. The sheet is splayed loosely across your middle, your tinged torso bare, swelling with your each breath. I want so much to return to your arms and stay there, try to get back the time we lost. But my ship calls, and duties must take priority… officially. You haven't yet said a word, and I can only guess what you feel inside.
Just before I leave, I hear you say my name. I turn, meet your eyes. Stepping silently to where you sit, I meet your two fingers with my own, smiling softly, savoring the touch before it goes beyond my reach again.
So here I am…
With open arms…
As soon as the automatic door separates you from me, the need for your heat, your heart beat, your breath with mine, it hits me, almost carrying my feet back inside. But I walk away, strong, still smiling at the memory of the words your murmured so softly into my skin last night, just before you slept. I'll carry the memory for as long as it lasts me, revisit it on nights when I start to doubt who I am and what we are.
Hoping you'll see…
You arrive on the bridge not ten minutes after myself, clothing straight, hair smooth, no evidence of the aggression of our passion last night. One simple look is all we share, but it fuels the fire inside. Of course, I don't show it. But you know it. The crew acts oblivious, but they know too. They've always known. In all fairness, we didn't do the best job of hiding it. Anyone could sense the ease in the air after so long with tight tension and hostility. And we can tell, from that one look, that something began here. Something irreplaceable.
What your love means to me…
I break our eye contact, trying not to smile, and turn to the viewscreen, stars and space rushing past, no time to slow down and witness each simple sparkling light, wish your name on it, and blow a kiss. I can finally set my mind free. Nothing's there, holding me back.
After a few moments, I feel myself being gently spun around on my chair. I see your slender hand there, turning me until I face you, surprised. You take my hand in yours, and there, in front of the crew, the stars, and space, you kiss my lips gently. The touch lingers, even when it ends, and you turn away, striding in your way, towards your science station. I cannot help but grin.
Because no matter what I have to give up for you, this ship, these stars, even me, just for you. I will.
Open arms.
I love you, too, Spock.
Oh…
Open arms.~
Whoa. Was that.... cliche?
(Yes)
Thank you, Basia.
*Meant to signal the key change in the song, switching from Spock to Kirk's POV.
Personally, I LOVE K/S. Can't get enough. You'll probably see more fics from me with this shipping. Unfortunately, the story I will be writing next will be in the new movie area. If ya wanna check it out, I might have it up in the next month or so.
Reviews are nice. Like chocolate. They makes me happay. But not FAT! So there ya go.
Oh and GAR the computer wouldn't add some of the editting marks I put in there around the song quotes, so GAR.
~BlackWidowPretty~