Spock felt horrible.
Not in the same way he did when he was sick. Actually, he would have preferred that to this. Anything to escape the pain and guilt he felt right now.
He closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. He could figure this out, find the best solution. He always had before.
But this is different, part of his mind insisted, and it was right. This was different. This was Jim, not some crisis on the bridge.
Jim. The person he loved more than anyone in the universe. The person whom he had inadvertently hurt, who now questioned his love (though not, of course, to him). Spock sighed. He had to make him understand.
"Jim, are you all right?" They had just made love, and Jim seemed somewhat distracted.
Jim looked up from his shaving. "What? Oh—yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired, that's all." He put the razor down and kissed Spock lightly. "I'm gonna go check in with Bones before shift starts, okay? I'll be on the bridge in ten."
Spock nodded, searching his captain's face. Jim was clearly distressed, but Spock was unsure as to why. Jim smiled slightly, seeing Spock's concern in his eyes. "I'm fine, really," he said. "I'll see you in a couple of minutes." He gave Spock one last kiss before turning to leave, pulling his shirt on as he left their quarters, heading for Sickbay.
Spock deliberated for only a moment before following him. Whatever was troubling Jim would likely be confided in Dr. McCoy, and he wished to know, so that he could help in whatever way possible.
When he reached Sickbay, Jim was already talking, pacing as he spoke. "I mean, we've been together for almost six months now, and he still won't meld with me to bond us. What is wrong with me?" He turned back to Dr. McCoy, and Spock's heart clenched when he realized that there were tears in his eyes. "Doesn't he love me?"
"Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor, not a Vulcan mind reader," Dr. McCoy said in a slightly harsh tone, but Spock could see the sympathy in his eyes. He tried to listen to more, but he couldn't—whether it was because there was no more to be heard or because his brain could not focus, he did not know. Perhaps it was a combination of the both, for the next thing Spock knew, he was stepping onto the bridge and he couldn't remember how he had gotten there. He could only remember that Jim thought he didn't love him.
Spock sighed, remembering. It wasn't that he didn't want to meld with Jim. He did, more than anything. Certainly it wasn't that he didn't love Jim; that fact was beyond question. It was that…he was afraid.
It was illogical to be afraid, he knew, but he couldn't help himself. Surely if Jim saw his past, his inability to love, his brokenness, he wouldn't want him anymore. Because to want someone, to love someone who would not acknowledge love even to their own mother was a highly illogical thing in itself, something which even Jim surely could not ignore.
Still, if it was what Jim truly wanted…how could Spock deny him that?
Spock sighed again. Clearly there was no truly logical solution here. Still, the least he could do was talk to Jim about it.
Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise, flagship of Starfleet, was sitting in his captain's chair, playing a game of 3d pinball on his padd. A really old version, one from the early 21st century—pretty primitive, but still enjoyable. Well, sort of. At least it provided a distraction.
And no, the captain most definitely was not trying to distract himself from the fact that from the moment he had stepped onto the bridge that morning after his conversation with Bones, Spock had refused to so much as look at him, and, once Jim had sat down in his chair, had immediately asked to be relieved of duty for the remainder of Alpha shift. No, that definitely wasn't it.
He was trying to distract himself from…from the idiot who'd taken Spock's place. Jim guessed that the guy was normally quite competent, or else Spock would never have appointed him as his replacement, but the guy was completely unassured of his ability to fill Spock's shoes, making him almost entirely unhelpful.
Jim glanced over at the science station and immediately thought of Spock. He sighed minutely, closing his eyes for a second. Thank God Chekov had promised that the trip to the New Vulcan colony would be uneventful. He didn't think he could handle even one damn thing today. /-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Jim was sitting at the desk in his quarters, trying (and largely failing) to focus on paperwork when there was a knock at his door. "Yeah, come in," he called absentmindedly, not looking up until the door had closed. When he saw who it was, he smiled. "Hey, Spock."
"Good evening, Captain," Spock said quietly, and Jim couldn't help noticing that he still wouldn't look at him. What the hell?
His confusion and frustration distracted him enough that he didn't even think before he responded. "For God's sake, Spock, would you please call me Jim? I'm pretty sure there's some law prohibiting the use of a title like 'Captain' less than twelve hours after fucking someone stupid." He winced the second it came out of his mouth. So much for thinking.
Spock blushed very slightly, but he nodded anyway. "I apologize, Jim. I am unsure of what made me address you by your title, but I am glad of your correction. It is better to speak to you as Jim now, as the matter I had wished to discuss is of a rather personal nature."
Jim nodded, trying to hide his surprise and sudden nervousness. "Okay," he said, trying to catch Spock's eye. When his first officer didn't respond, he said, "Well, what did you want to talk about?"
Spock finally looked up, and Jim almost gasped out loud at the pain and guilt and fear in his eyes. He'd known his Vulcan had expressive eyes, but…there'd never been so much there. He bit his lip and waited for Spock to speak, not wanting to interrupt him before he had even started.
"I happened to overhear your conversation with Dr. McCoy this morning, and I wished to speak with you about it," Spock said, and Jim couldn't help raising one eyebrow at him. Overheard?
Spock blushed again but went on as though he hadn't noticed Jim's expression. "I had not realized that you were hurt by my reluctance to meld with you, and I apologize. That was not my intention." He took the Vulcan equivalent of a deep breath before continuing. "It is not that I do not wish to meld with you. I do, very much. But I …"
"You're scared," Jim finished for him. He got up and walked over to Spock, who looked almost nervous. "I get it. I feel the same way. I mean, I wouldn't blame you if you ran away after seeing my past, but I'd rather take that chance than be wondering 'what if' for the rest of my life."
He moved closer so that he and Spock were less than a foot apart, and Spock almost unconsciously stepped closer as well. Jim leaned forward and traced his jaw line lightly with his thumb, and though Spock's eyes closed at the touch, Jim could still see the emotion on—no, not on really, more like in, etched in—his face.
"Jim," he whispered, and to anyone else the Vulcan's tone might have sounded almost pleading, but Jim knew better. He knew that really Spock was still scared, scared enough to need his reassurance, and he definitely wasn't going to hesitate to give it. He took another step closer to him, bringing them so close that they were practically breathing each other's air, and turned slightly to whisper in his ear.
"Spock," he murmured, his breath ghosting over the other's ear, and Spock shuddered ever so slightly. Jim winced. Okay, whispering in the ear, probably not such a good idea. He had to say this before he let himself—either of them—succumb to lust.
Jim moved a little so that he and Spock were face to face and tried again, capturing Spock's eyes with his own and refusing to let go. "T'hy'la," Jim said softly, running a thumb down Spock's cheek. Spock leaned into the touch a little, but fortunately did not show any other reaction, still letting Jim hold his gaze.
Jim continued. "T'hy'la, trust me. Nothing you show me in that meld could possibly make me love you any less. I am yours forever, no matter what, and nothing will ever change that." He couldn't help smiling just a little at the wonder in his lover's eyes when he said that, and Spock smiled back, a tiny, almost sheepish turning up of the corners of his mouth. However, before Jim had time to contemplate that, said mouth was coming down on his with crushing force, enveloping him in something much deeper than lust.
Several hours later, the two of them lay in bed next to each other, exhausted. Spock, in particular, was nearly asleep after the events of the past few hours. Jim was totally convinced that Spock's reasoning for being afraid to meld to with him was that he thought Jim didn't love him. Actually, Spock wasn't sure that Jim really believed that any more than he did, but Jim had spent the next hour or so "proving" his love to him, demonstrating just how talented his mouth was, first on Spock's hands, then considerably further down, and had finally made love to him.
Somewhere during all of that, Spock had managed to perform a mind meld, making the two of them officially bonded, and it was one particular incident he had glimpsed in the meld that concerned him at the moment, not his tiredness.
He inhaled deeply, trying to catch his breath. "Holy shit," he heard Jim mutter next to him. "Forgive me for saying so," Spock replied, still somewhat breathless, "but I do not believe that such a thing would be possible. Most major religions—"
"Oh, stop it," Jim interrupted, sounding simultaneously exasperated and amused. "You know I wasn't speaking literally. If you're gonna be irritated, why don't you stop wasting time and just tell me what it is you're irritated about."
Spock was silent for a moment. "How did you know of my irritation?" he asked.
"I can feel it. Through the bond. Now, what is it?"
This time Spock did not hesitate. "You mind melded with my elder self," he said, unable to help sounding slightly accusing. He shifted to his side so he could see Jim's face. "Why did you not tell me?"
Jim blushed. "I thought you weren't supposed to know about him!" he replied defensively. "He said the universe would explode or something. And besides, I didn't think it was that big a deal then…" He trailed off, looking a little bit guilty, and Spock raised his eyebrow.
"Why did you not tell me, then, after we began our relationship?" he asked. "It was not long after that that you learned that I knew of my older self, and how very intimate mind melds are."
"I didn't think it was important," Jim said. "I mean, I'm head over heels in love with you, not him." He looked up at Spock and sighed. "Stop being jealous. It's not healthy to be jealous of yourself."
"I am not jealous," Spock said. "I simply—"
"Shut up. You are too jealous," Jim replied, laughing. He leaned forward and kissed Spock lightly. "Don't worry about it. It's kinda cute, actually." Spock just glared at him, and opened his mouth to argue with Jim, but Jim started talking before he could even get a word out.
"Do not give me that crap about Vulcans not feeling jealousy. I know you get jealous, and not just because of this," he said, gesturing between the two of them.
Spock raised one eyebrow. "What do you mean?" Jim grinned.
"I know you get jealous because if you didn't get jealous, you wouldn't have told that ambassador flirting with me on Regula III to back the hell off, mortally offending him, and got us stuck in the brig for the rest of night, and then I would never have figured out you had a thing for me and kissed you and we wouldn't be right here right now. So there." Jim crossed his arms over his chest, a smug smile spreading over his face.
"True," Spock replied after a moment. "Clearly, emotion has its advantages."
Jim laughed again. "Speaking of jealousness," he said abruptly, "how come you followed me this morning? You know I'd never do anything with Bones."
Spock blushed, but answered truthfully (well, mostly truthfully) nonetheless. "I was merely being cautious. Any Vulcan with an unmarked mate would have done the same."
Jim stared at him. "You're joking, right?"
"Of course not. I would never let Dr. McCoy take you from me."
Jim threw a pillow at him. "Crazy possessive Vulcan bastard."