The Ambassador has to routinely remind himself that this Jim Kirk is not his Jim Kirk. Sometimes, though, he does not want to.
The Kirk of this universe was younger than his captain ever was when they served together. He was leaner, taller, and owned a pair of sparkling blue eyes. Different experiences in life had formed a young man who was angrier, more impulsive, and dangerously drawn adrenaline rushes. This Kirk was different, because while he was Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S Enterprise, he was not his Jim.
But when Kirk smiled at him, he felt the same brightness and warmth the smiles his Jim had always graced him with. For a moment the look of warm affection soothed the dull ache the severed bond had left behind in his mind, if only for a few moments. This Kirk was as charming, loyal, caring, and just as human as he remembered, just as exquisite. Or perhaps he had just been without his mate for far too long.
For the first time in years he felt the stirrings of desire, when the young man looked at him his groin began to fill. He thought of the long nights, the lazy mornings, and the days they never truly managed to leave their bed. He thought of the rough bruising couplings, the gentle love making, and everything in between. But he could no longer have Jim that way because his Jim was gone, regardless of the lustful glances this Kirk sent him during their communications and on New Vulcan aiding in the colony's construction.
The bond hummed when they touched, his desperate mind weakly reaching out to the man who was Jim but not Jim. Kirk, with his sharp brain very much in tact in this universe, had caught on quickly and began let his touches linger at least 1.57 seconds longer than what was strictly friendly by human standards. They became increasingly longer after that, and this Kirk's Spock took notice with a stiffening of posture. His young counterpart was not yet willing to admit his possessive nature regarding Jim, but he would and things would be as they should be. This Jim Kirk was not his, could never be his.
Both Jim Kirks kissed with the same fire and diligence, pushing away Spock's control with hot licks and suction. Relentless passion and loving care flooded his senses, replacing his apprehensions with love and longing. He felt complete, like he had come home, and allowed himself the indulgence he craved, returning Jim's fervor. This Jim whimpered when he sunk his teeth just beneath his ear, he rubbed his hardened penis against Spock's body without care when his buttocks were fondled – just like his bonded.
"Christ, Spock." He gasped. "I need you."
"You need your Spock."
"Nah, I like you best." Jim said softly. He placed both of his youthful hands upon Spock's worn, wrinkled face and beamed at him. Spock did not care that his eyes were not the right color. He flipped Jim over on his back and pushed their erections together
"Holy shit," Jim gasped against Spock's mouth.
"I am old, but not yet weak."
Jim laughed like warm honey against his ears; he wrapped his arms around Spock and nipped at one of the sensitive points.
It was not the same, it merely felt the same. As he watched the looks and touches increase between Jim and his counterpart he no longer had any doubt, and he allowed himself to ache for his Jim anew.
