A/N: Written for a friend on Tumblr. It's the most serious crackfic I've ever written, haha.
Pairings: Jam (Jay/Tim)
Warnings: Yaoi. That's about it. Some angsty Mind Meld.
Discalaimer: MH belongs to Troy Wagner, Tim Sutton, and Joseph Delage. Star Trek belongs to CBS.
Jay first knew that something was wrong when he overheard Timothy telling the attendant that he was not interested in having his dinner that evening. In the entire time he and Timothy had been on the S.S. Operator, Timothy had never refused a meal. Doing so would result in malnutrition and a decrease in functionality. In other words, highly illogical.
It wasn't as though Jay was watching him or anything, though. He certainly didn't start keeping a closer eye on him over the passed few weeks from his spot in the next to Helmsman Seth. Timothy was a Vulcan, which meant did h best to maintain a facade devoid of emotion and focusing solely on the facts. But from where Jay stood, he could see Timothy's stoic shell chipping away day after day, whether it be a distraction here, a curt word of dismissal there.
Jay was a simple Navigator whereas Timothy was the Chief Navigator of the entire ship. The only ones Timothy answered to was Executive Officer Amy and their Commanding Officer, Captain Alex. Jay was in no position to question him about his strange behavior. And even if he did, Timothy would probably deny it and dismiss him.
So, Jay kept silent until the day that he observed Timothy in the Engineering room engaged in a heated argument with Lieutenant Brian. They had always been acquaintances on good terms. Seeing Timothy shouting and his pale skin slightly pink with anger made Jay pause and stare with the other engineers. He startled when, at the climax of the argument, Timothy took the edge of a table and flipped it, spilling the paperwork stacked on top all over the floor, before storming out of the room. Word of the display reached the Captain, who ordered Timothy to the sick bay.
Jay found out about the order and made an excuse to go to the bay out of curiosity. Timothy had been so stable, so logically cold to everyone. What had happened to make him act more violently than Jay had believed him capable?
He checked in with the receptionist of the sick bay, claiming he was visiting one of the officers and listened for the sound of Timothy's low voice in consultation with the doctors. Unfortunately, most of the examination rooms were sound proof and he began to think his efforts were futile until one of the doors abruptly opened. Jay flattened himself against the wall as Timothy strode briskly out of the room, leaving a flustered doctor in his wake.
Timothy nodded at Jay in greeting as he passed, but remained silent as he continued on his way.
"Ah, Commander?" Jay stammered after him.
Timothy paused and peered back at him. Even from three meters, Jay could see the tense lines on Timothy's forehead and around his eyes. "Yes, Lieutenant?"
Jay fidgeted for a moment, unsure how to pursue his line of questioning. "Is everything all right?"
Timothy spared him another moment before muttering, "Yes," and continuing on his way.
On a whim, Jay ducked into the examination room, where the medical officer, a pretty brown-haired girl named Jessica, was picking up papers and various instruments that Timothy had apparently knocked on the floor in a rage.
She nevertheless smiled at him. "Do you have an appointment?"
"No," Jay said. "I was going to ask about the Commander...Timothy, I mean." He felt heat creep up his neck in his embarrassment. "Is there anything you can tell me off his condition?"
"I'm sorry, that information is confidential..." Jessica began.
"Of course! I apologize. Thank you for your time," Jay said, turning to leave. Perhaps his investigations were futile after all...
"Well, personally and off record, I can tell you one thing," Jessica said. "This behavior isn't like him at all is it?"
"Not at all," Jay agreed.
"I read something when I was in the academy. The Commander is not the only Vulcan to develop these symptoms," she said, quietly, eyes flickering towards the door every so often.
"You think this is related to his race?" Jay asked, genuinely interested.
"It's just a theory. I couldn't get much information out of him. He could just be reacting to stress," she said.
"I thought he would be better at masking stress than this," Jay said.
"Of course, now please, if we are caught discussing this, we could both be in trouble," she said.
"S-sure! Thank you for your help," Jay said before slipping out of the room and out of the bay altogether.
What followed was a night in his room researching everything he could about Vulcan culture and anatomy. He searched everything he could find on his PADD, which, regrettably, wasn't much. The Vulcans seemed to keep their documents extremely secretive and what little information was archived on the ships database was restricted to medical personnel.
In the bleak hours of dawn, just when he decided that it would be best for him to call it a night and pray that whatever was affecting Timothy wasn't serious, he found a first-hand account of someone dealing with similar aggravated symptoms that Jay had observed in Timothy. Jay scanned it eagerly, despite feeling bone-tired. It described the Vulcan male becoming aggressive and demanding to return back to his home world, though the details as to what took place there were left out.
Two words that stood out in particular were ones he wasn't familiar with, although a hunch told him that, almost certainly, Timothy would be.
He waited one morning in the middle of a deserted hall leading to one of the older engine rooms. Timothy seemed to have taken to isolating himself within, claiming to be searching for any data on outdated navigational techniques. They were outdated for a reason, he said, they shouldn't be discarded entirely when we could ensure that our current technology isn't prone to the same mistakes.
Why he wasn't consulting a lackey to do the work for him would be a mystery to anyone but Jay. He would have gone in to speak with Timothy now were it not for the fact that his nerves were failing him.
After an agonizing hour, Jay considered to his quarters, but it was then that the door slid open to admit an empty-handed Timothy. He raised an eye-brow (another gesture that Jay wouldn't have expected from the formerly polite Vulcan) and said, "Good evening, Lieutenant."
"G-good evening, Commander," Jay said. Timothy swept passed him and Jay barely refrained from grabbing his arm.
"Listen, uh, Commander, I think I may know something about what you're...going through," Jay said, nibbling his lip.
Timothy stopped and turned slowly to look at him. On a normal day, his pale, Vulcan features were some of the most handsome Jay had ever laid eyes on. His dark hair was neatly cut and fell over a pair of finely pointed ears. The sideburns were incredibly unusual for a Vulcan and made Jay wonder if there had ever been some human in his genetic tree. But on Timothy, Jay thought they fit perfectly.
"I don't know what you mean," Timothy said, his expression impassive.
Jay dared a step closer and lowered his voice. "I mean, I was doing some research since I thought...well, you've been acting different and..."
"I am acting no differently than usual," Timothy said.
It was Jay's turn to raise an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure I've never seen you flip a table before."
Timothy winced, just a little. "That was a brief miscalculation on my part."
"A miscalculation of what?"
"I miscalculated the limits of my patience. That is all. I've fixed the situation. There's no need to concern yourself," Timothy said, clearly wanting the conversation to be over.
"You think you've fixed it? You've locked yourself away in your room for hours before, even when the Captain summoned you directly!" Jay said.
"I'm researching something important and I don't wish to be disturbed, now if you will excuse me..."
"Is this thing you're researching the Pon Farr?"
That made Timothy stare at him, his expression purely shocked. In two steps, he was directly in front of Jay, one hand fisted in Jay's blue shirt.
"How do you know about the Pon Farr?" Timothy said, enunciating each word through tightly gritted teeth.
Jay swallowed nervously, but held his ground. "Research of my own. Is that what is happening to you, though?"
For several long moments, they stood in silence, Timothy searching Jay's face for...mockery, maybe? Suspicion? Deception? His grip on Jay's shirt loosened.
"I'm not speaking about this here," he said.
"Why not? There's no one here and the security cameras in this part of the ship don't record audio. You can tell me whatever it is you want to," Jay said.
"This is an extremely private matter to my kind," Timothy said.
"So I figured," Jay said. At Timothy's look, he elaborated. "Most of the informational documents in the ship's archive about the Pon Farr have been removed."
"As they should..." Timothy muttered.
"But why? Why is it such a secret?" Jay said.
Timothy watched him closely again. "How much do you know about it, exactly?"
"I just know what it's called and that it causes you to act like this every seven years. That's about it," Jay said, shrugging.
Timothy gave a lop-sided smile. "You don't know why it causes us to act like this?" he said.
Jay shook his head.
"Let me put it this way," Timothy began. "Our biology is such that we enter into a particular cycle. It isn't unlike a bitch's heat cycle."
"A bitch, as in a female dog?" Jay said.
"Precisely. Though it affects both genders of my kind equally. It is a cycle as old as our beginning," Timothy said, looking down.
"Are you saying this is a mating thing?" Jay said. "Can you only mate every seven years?"
"We can mate whenever we wish, but it's every seven years when the urge becomes...undeniable."
"So, you're in heat," Jay said, though he instantly wished he hadn't. It sounded so surreal referring to someone so serious as Timothy.
"In simple words, yes," Timothy said.
"Oh," Jay said, wishing he could formulate an intelligent response. "Well, do you want to do anything with anyone? Are you interested in anyone on the ship?"
"That is an entirely different matter," Timothy said.
"Can you only mate with other Vulcans?" Jay asked.
"That's not what I meant," Timothy said, waving his hand, vaguely. "It doesn't matter who we mate with as long as we mate."
"What happens if you don't?"
Timothy glanced away. "If the blood fever isn't satisfied, it consumes us. Much like some animal species on your planet. If they do not mate by the end of their season, they pass on."
"You die if you don't mate?" Jay said, bewildered. Have sex or die. It seemed like a simple decision."So why don't you find someone? I'll help you! We can hire someone from the lower decks if we need to..."
"To couple with someone casually is useless. We must empathetically bond with those we mate with. Anything less than that is..." Timothy said.
"Well, then you can bond with someone first! Have you been interested in anyone?" Jay said.
"This is not a matter you need to be concerned with. I answered your questions. Let it be. Goodnight, Lieutenant," Timothy said and once again turned to leave.
Jay could have let it be and any sensible person would have let it be. All Jay did was go after Timothy and lay a gentle hand on his arm. A feeling that had been curling in his belly ever since he had first laid eyes on Timothy coiled more tightly.
"Wait, Commander. Can I have permission to speak again?" Jay said.
"You didn't ask me for permission before, but go on," Timothy said, still turned away.
"If...if you can't find anyone else on the ship...I mean, I don't know why you wouldn't be able to. Anyone would be lucky to be with you," Jay stammered, fully aware of how deep a grave he was digging for himself. "Well, it's just...I will help, if you don't want to be with anyone else."
"You want to..." For the first time, Timothy sounded baffled. "Are you offering yourself to me?"
"Uh, well...yeah, I guess so," Jay said.
"It wouldn't work without an empathetic bond."
"I know. I'd be willing to make one, though."
They were silent for several more moments. Jay was sure that Timothy was going to refuse him outright, perhaps even push him away, disgusted. He hadn't even considered that the only way to satisfy the Pon Farr would be to mate with someone of the opposite gender. What if the same gender didn't work?
He pulled away, slightly ashamed. "Just...um...consider it, if it would work, that is. I beg your pardon. Goodnight, sir," Jay said. He passed Timothy and hurried down the hallway. Timothy didn't respond and Jay didn't look back.
That night, Jay got a bottle of wine and had to drink more than half of it before his thoughts were dulled enough to actually fall asleep. His communicator beeped around midnight, waking him through a blurry, slightly nauseated daze. One glance at the sender of the message and he sobered up.
My apologies for the late hour. I would like to speak with you more on the matters we discussed earlier.
-Chief of Navigation, Timothy Wright
Speak with him? This all seemed too weird to be true.
I do not mind the late hour, sir. Do you mean about the Pon Farr?
-Lieutenant Jay, Helmsman
He paused before sending off the message. Was he being too direct? Was Timothy about to scold him for his "offer" to help his condition? Was he going to be berated for even mentioning the Pon Farr over ship communication?
He pressed "send" and laid back, with baited breath. When the beep sounded again, it startled him.
That is what we discussed, is it not? We need to make these matters absolutely clear, do you agree?
Jay released the breath he had been holding while reading the message and typed: Yes, I agree. When do you wish to meet?
It was about fifteen minutes before he received a reply, during which he knew there would be no chance of ever getting back to sleep that night.
I have a number of meetings and tasks to attend. But I believe I can make time for you this Saturday at 22:00. Is this reasonable? If the hour is too late, we can arrange something else.
Even in the academy, Jay had been somewhat of a night owl so the lateness didn't disturb him. He told Timothy the time was fine.
I am glad to hear that. Wait for me on the North side of the Observation Deck. I apologize in advance if I am late.
Not at all, Jay wrote. Have a good night, sir.
Timothy didn't send any more responses and Jay was fine with that. But, as he expected, sleep wasn't coming any time soon. He forced himself to get up and work on some menial reports, though none of what he was writing really processed in light of the coming meeting.
The Observation Deck afforded a beautiful view of the stars that he would never have thought possible in all his years on Earth. They calmed his nerves and calmed the heavy pounding of his heart while he watched the clock tick up to 22:00 and then pass it. He nibbled on his lip, a habit that he had never been quite able to drop, especially when he was nervous. Endless possibilities ran through his mind. What if Timothy had forgotten? What if he had realized that Jay wasn't worth his time?
The first one was absurd. Timothy never forgot appointments. The second...well, Jay would understand it, but it wouldn't hurt any less if it was the truth. His fears turned out to be unfounded, however, and he almost laughed with relief when the door to the Observation Deck swished open to admit Tim. The same laugh wilted immediately when he saw bitter expression on Timothy's face.
"Lieutenant," Timothy said in greeting. He was rubbing his forehead as he came to stand next to Jay.
"Hello, sir. Is everything..."
"Everything is fine, thank you," Timothy said. "Just dealing with many people who can't seem to see the logic behind my decisions."
"Do you need anything to drink?" Jay said.
"No, I don't want to delay this." Timothy's dark eyes bore into Jay's for a moment. "I've been thinking quite a lot about our conversation yesterday. Have you told anyone?"
"No, of course not. It's your condition and it's important to your species," Jay said. Although, telling Jessica or the Captain had crossed his mind many times.
"I see. Thank you," Timothy said. He leaned forward, propping his arms on the railing and staring out the large windows on the deck. "I come up here often to think, when I have free time, that is."
"Is that often?"
A rueful smile played over Timothy's lips. "Not as often as I would like. The view of the stars from Vulcan were always clouded by dust, even on the clearest of nights. Here, the view is remarkable. It's beautiful, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is," Jay said, vaguely wondering if Timothy was actually going to talk to him about the Pon Farr or not.
"I wanted you to see it with me. You offered yourself to help me with my condition, but...before you are sure you want to go through with it, you must understand more about me," Timothy said, keeping his gaze steady at the stars.
Jay wanted to say that he did understand Timothy, but what did he really know? He had never even seen Vulcan up close, let alone get to know Vulcan culture. The first time he had met Timothy was as a private in the academy and by then, Timothy was an assistant to the head of his department. He knew nothing of Timothy's childhood or his motivations. But at least he wasn't turning Jay away for his offer. That alone cause heat to fill his cheeks.
"I will try my best. I want to help you," Jay said.
Timothy straightened and faced Jay, stepping closer. Tim was a few inches taller and a little broader than Jay and the aura of authority surrounding Timothy almost spurred him backwards.
"I told you that if you wanted to help me, we are going to have to develop an empathic bond. The quickest way to do this is with the Mind Meld. Are you willing to do this?" Timothy said.
The way he said it made it sound so clinical. Nevertheless, Jay gulped and nodded. Timothy gently set a hand on Jay's shoulder and splayed his fingers over the side of Jay's face, one at his eye, one beside his nose, and one of the corner of his mouth.
"Relax and open your mind to me," Timothy said.
Jay obeyed and gasped when he felt like something was invading his head, cracking open his consciousness, and drawing out his thoughts. Even behind his closed eyes, he saw a beautiful planet, colored white and dusty red, before he was suddenly looking at its landscape. He was looking out of the eyes of someone who stood low to the ground (a child, he realized.) He was in a courtyard with other children who were all staring at him, half with awe and half with distrust.
How did you do that? One asked.
It wasn't me, I swear. It was him, he did it! Said the figure who's gaze he was peering through.
We saw you! Are you calling us liars?
I am not.
If we tell the Master, you could be examined.
No, don't! I will not do it again!
Jay's vision went blurry and he realized he was crying.
If you do, you will be taken away.
Jay wanted to plead with them, to make it understand that it hadn't been his fault. He didn't remember half of what he did when he blanked out and gave himself over to the Man Inside His Head. He peered down at his hands and looked at the key that, only moments before, had been broken into two pieces, but now was one whole.
The scene shifted again and he was hidden behind a curtain while his parents were arguing with a representative of his school, saying that he had been caught shoving another child into a fountain. He wanted to scream that it hadn't been him. It had been the Man Inside His Head and that he couldn't do anything to stop him. He had tried telling his parents before and they hadn't believed him.
Well, they hadn't believed him until the day they woke up to find him out of his bed and wandering the roof. But there was no roof access in their home. The only way for him to have found a way up there would have been to possess some superhuman strength.
The memories shifted again to a harsh, white room. He was ten years old and scared. Doctors surrounded him, prodding him with instruments. They said that whatever was afflicting him was obviously neurological and would have to be suppressed if he was to ever have a hope of living a normal existence. They pumped him full of a serum that made the world turn gray and made it difficult to move before a small chip was implanted into his ear.
After that day, he was never bothered by the Man Inside His Head again, but he never felt the urge to smile or laugh again. He was able to think with cold logic and succeeded at any endeavor he chose. But the world never regained its color. His world was gray for years. He had been relieved at the loss of the Man In His Head, but losing him had come with a cost and he had never felt the exhileration of joy again.
Then Jay saw the grand buildings of the Starfleet Academy that he knew so well. The impassive mask that he hid behind had managed to fool his professors for most of the week. Inside, he was a bundle of tightly wound nerves threatening to burst at any moment. He had been chosen to lead a particular class for a day and he was trying desperately not to reveal how much the knowledge affected him. He stood in front of the tiered classroom, eyes roving over the students as if looking for familiar faces.
He clasped his hands into fists to stop their shaking and then his gaze wandered close to the front row. A human was sitting their with sandy-brown hair and wide, blue eyes. He looked just as nervous as Jay felt. It took Jay a moment before it occurred to him that he was looking at himself through Timothy's eyes. He remembered that day, seeing Timothy standing rigidly at the front of the room, thinking he was the most handsome Vulcan he had ever seen. He remembered the way his heart had flopped when Timothy had met his eyes, but then how he couldn't seem to look away.
Jay felt himself give a timid smile and saw the smile at the same time. The gesture was small, but it made Timothy feel calmer and suddenly, the bundle of nerves relaxed. The world seemed a little less grey.
The Mind Meld was stopped and it was like Jay was shoved back into his body. Timothy lowered his hand, leaving Jay gasping for breath. So many memories. So many emotions coursing through him all at once. How was it that Timothy wasn't shaking like Jay was? Maybe he was used to the post-Meld rush.
"Now you know," Timothy said, his face still impassive.
"Oh, god," Jay said. "Oh god, oh god." His eyes were stinging and he knew that if he had been bonded with Timothy a moment longer, he would now be crying.
Timothy watched him and withdrew his hand from Jay's shoulder. "I understand if you no longer want to..."
He was interrupted by Jay throwing his arms around him and hugging him tightly, burying his face into Timothy's shoulder.
"I had no idea. You were always so collected," Jay said.
"The chip made it so," Timothy said, spreading his hands over Jay's back.
Jay blinked rapidly to get the tears out of his eyes. "Can you take it out? Are there doctors that could?"
"Even if they could, I wouldn't want them to," Timothy said. "I don't want to go back to the way things were. I would lose large blocks of time and never remember what happened. It is better now."
"But everything was so sad. Is it still that way for you?" Jay said.
Timothy's silence told him everything.
"What about the Pon Farr? Would you be able to...feel anything?" Jay said.
"I don't know. I haven't experienced physical pleasure for a long time," Timothy said. "Before we proceeded, I thought you should know all of that. If you are no longer interested, I understand."
"N-not interested?" Jay laughed, a little ironically. He pulled back enough to see Tim's look of confusion before he crushed their lips together. He felt Timothy stiffen in his arms and was afraid he was going to pull away. Instead, there was a growling sound that was almost animalistic and Jay was being crushed against Tim's frame.
Must be the Blood Fever, he thought, bemused. Hopefully this meant that at least Timothy was getting some pleasure out of the kiss. They pulled away, mostly so Jay could catch his breath.
"Sir," he said, hoping to inject as much adoration as he could into his expression. The fact that he should consider himself extremely lucky to even be acknowledged by Timothy wasn't lost on him.
"Tim. You may call me Tim." Tim ran his hands gently down Jay's arms, a sharp contrast to the ferocity from earlier.
"Okay, Tim..." he said, softly, like the name was candy on his tongue.
Tim brushed the back of his hand against Jay's cheek. "Will you accompany me to my quarters?"
So polite, even when the Blood Fever must have been tearing him up inside. Jay nodded. "Hell, yes."
He next registered Tim's low chuckle before the night merged with a series of kisses and caresses. At some point, they made it to Tim's luxurious room on the upper deck and stripped off their restricting uniforms. Any question that Tim was experiencing anything other than pleasure was silenced when Jay took in his flushed expression and the way he shoved Jay onto his mattress in his need. Jay blamed the Blood Fever for the way Tim took him so roughly. Tim had barely spared a moment to lubricate himself before pounding into Jay. Were it not for the bliss on Tim's face, Jay would have considered protesting. Though, it wasn't long before Tim sent him spiraling towards his own climax with a few very well-placed jabs into his sweet spot.
When he came back out of his post-orgasmic haze, Tim was clinging to him as though he was his lifeline.
"Was it good for you? I'm afraid I quite lost control of myself," Tim said, brushing his lips across Jay's collar bone between words.
The idea that Jay could make anyone lose control, let alone someone as cool and calculating as Tim, brought him no small amount of pride.
"I'm probably going to be a little sore, but it's nothing some painkillers won't fix," Jay said, yawning. "I am a bit tired though."
Tim drew the covers up over the pair of them. "Will you stay tonight?"
"Mmm-hm," was all Jay managed before plunging into a deep sleep, although not before registering a pair of lips brushing over his forehead.
Tim was already awake and dressed when Jay finally opened his eyes in the morning. At first, his heart sank with the thought that Tim would distance himself after their night together. What was the point in keeping Jay around when he had already fulfilled his purpose? Tim would go back to his post and treat him like a friendly acquaintance and all Jay would have to remember that intense night were the fading bruises on his limbs and the memories that had been branded in him from the Mind Meld. He would carry the knowledge of Tim's past secret until the day he died.
He tried to hide his bitterness as he jerked on his pants. He stood to put on his shirt and then paused, shocked, when he felt a set strong arms wrap around his waist.
"I am not exaggerating when I say I owe you my life," Tim said. "With your permission, I would like to see you again."
Jay shifted, the butterflies returning to his belly in full. "Of course. I would like that a lot. It's probably easier to schedule around you than me, though."
Tim chuckled and there was actually joy in the sound.
"Do you feel better now? Did last night let you feel anything other than..." Jay said.
"You need to ask?" Tim said. "I thought happiness would be lost to me because of the chip. I've never been so glad to be proven incorrect."
He kissed Jay deeply then and it was more than enough to make Jay forget about the discomfort in his backside. When Tim pulled away, he ran his thumb over Jay's bottom lip.
"Do you chew on your lips?" Tim said, frowning slightly.
Jay shrugged. "Only when I am nervous."
"They look like patchwork."
"You've made me nervous! I can't help it!"
Tim scoffed. "Highly illogical. I don't make anyone nervous."
Jay scuffed him on the arm before giving him an affectionate peck on the cheek. "Ok, now I know you are feeling better if you can fib like that!"
Tim responded by pushing him back down on the bed and proving how good he felt. It didn't take much logic for Jay to piece it together.