For you I will wake

Part Three: Open your eyes

Two days ago Jim had snapped and confronted his feelings for his first officer. It had taken him forty-eight hours to actually process them, and one amazing kiss for that to actually register, but he'd done it. And hey, he was quite proud. He'd finally figured out what he wanted, even if that had turned out to be something he could never have.

But now, mere hours after his revelation, his discovery of what unrequited love felt like, to be asked to do… this? This was gonna be so hard.

Universe?

Yeah you, you cruel bastard.

You suck.

*

"Spock! Open up!"

Passing crew-members could barely conceal their amazed, stunned faces when they saw Jim banging his fist against the door to Spock's quarters. Obviously he had the Captain's override codes, but since the whole point was that people see him there, he yelled as loudly as he could.

"Spock! Are you in the shower or something?"

Now there was an image his libido could have done without.

In the end, it had been pure luck that his and Spock's shifts coincided that day and they were off-duty at more or less the same time, since usually Spock worked longer hours than Jim, though they tended to be less hectic.

"Spo-!"

The door hissed open in a rush of air, and Jim… closed his eyes.

It was Spock all right.

With a towel.

Spock with just a towel.

Wet Spock, with just a towel.

Looking rather greener than usual, probably flushed because his water was scalding hot. Gleaming hair and shining torso, Spock in all his glory. His chest was lightly dusted with dark hair, also soaked, and Jim wished he didn't have such great photographic memory. Did he mention the wet part? And the towel? What about the just a freakin' towel and nothing else part?

"Hey, turns out I was right." Jim croaked weakly.

"Jim, open your eyes." Spock said, just quiet enough that only he could hear. "Or they will think you have never seen me like this before and our attempt to 'get' them shall be ruined."

A small bubble of hysterical laughter threatened to escape Jim's throat, but he did as he was told, regretted it two seconds later, and didn't close his eyes. "Yeah, well, I haven't really seen you like this before, have I?" He muttered under his breath, and stepped inside, pushing past Spock and his wet godliness.

Before the door closed behind them, Jim heard the sound a crowd makes when they're trying not to make a sound, and he turned and realised a group of people (mostly women, but a few men, too) were gaping at Spock like they had only realised now that he was very, very… gapeable. Or whatever.

Resisting the urge to yell "Hah! Suckers, he's mine!" Jim grinned his wide, cocky grin that he knew drove people to commit thought murder, and the door hissed shut.

So, he was in Spock's quarters. He'd been here before, but never right after Spock had taken a shower, and… whew. It was like stepping into an oven. Jim started to sweat immediately, and took off his golden uniform top so he was left with the simple black undershirt.

"Forgive me, Captain, I had not estimated your time of arrival with sufficient accuracy. As you can see, I am not yet ready. Please, do not hesitate to lower the ambient temperatures so you are more comfortable, I am quite accustomed to average human conditions."

"Don't worry about it, Spock."

Huh, the water actually evaporated off Spock's body, so it looked like he was literally steaming hot.

"I insist Jim. You must sleep in this room, after all."

Yeah right. There would be no sleeping for Jim tonight.

"Okay, just please go put some clothes on." He blurted it out before he could stop himself, but now it was said and he wasn't going to take it back.

"Of course."

The door to the bathroom shut behind Spock's tall, lean form and Jim collapsed onto the bed.

He'd never realised Spock smelled amazing. Or, well maybe he had but it was bBMR (before Brain-Melting Realisation). Here in his room it was concentrated and very noticeable. It wasn't a particularly strong smell, but it sure was real nice, kind of smooth and fresh and alien. Exotic.

Lying there, on Spock's bed (which was where Spock slept, which was awesome), and thinking about how smell tasted and with the heat plastering even the black undershirt to his skin, Jim stretched gracefully, like a lazy cat, and sighed deeply. He could do this. Come on, Kirk. Control yourself, it's not that hard, apparently people do it occasionally.

He closed his eyes, feeling oddly peaceful, like he belonged where he was.

"Jim."

Jim yelped and sprang up, his reflexes agile even when he felt like he was about to sink into the bed. Today was turning out to be a pretty rough day, and apparently the stupid universe wasn't willing to make it better.

Spock was looking at him, leaning against the door to the bathroom that had closed behind him mere seconds ago. At least he was dressed now, thank God. For some reason, though, that didn't help as much as Jim had hoped, since the colour black suited Spock really well.

His head was cocked to the side, and he appeared deep in thought. Key word here being 'appeared', because his face was once again expressionless. That jet-black hair hadn't been properly dried, because a few drops trickled down his face and neck.

Oh boy.

And it wasn't perfectly straight or orderly either. It was… messy.

"Hey, Spock."

Jim's voice come out rather deeper than he'd intended, and hoarse. He coughed, then stood up from the bed, feeling a bit guilty, like a naughty child caught doing something wrong.

"What's up?"

Brilliant, Kirk. Spectacular.

"Jim, I feel I must once again apologise for losing control earlier today."

Jim shook his head, glad to see that terrible ache had eased somewhat since Spock's verbal thrashing. "Nah, it's okay."

"It is not. As you know I delegated my tasks today and spent the majority of my time meditating in order to ensure that does not happen again."

His Captain nodded.

"I am… sorry."

"Are you admitting to an emotion, Spock?" Jim teased, wanting to leave this dangerous topic. But it didn't work, because Spock just stood there, not denying it, and Jim's heartbeat stuttered.

"Listen, I said it's okay. I mean that, Spock. The last time you lost it…" They both flinched at the memory, though Spock's was more of a slight clenching of his right hand, clearly he didn't even notice. "… that time was a physical outburst, not a verbal one, but I know that wasn't you doing that. Not the real you. To me, the same principle applies here. This was just as much out of your control as then. I know you didn't mean to say those things. It's forgotten."

Spock nodded curtly and walked over to his desk, where he sat down. When his back was to Jim, he spoke in a surprisingly soft voice. "Thank you, Captain."

Jim decided he'd had enough angst for the day.

"I really wish you wouldn't call me that when we're pretending to have sex, Spock."

A low sound Spock clearly hadn't meant Jim to hear escaped his first officer's lips. It was strange, probably Vulcan, and Jim thought it sounded a lot like a small hiccup that might have hidden a laugh. Either way the sound was happy, and Jim wished Spock would turn around so he could read his face, he wished it so desperately he almost walked over and did it himself.

"It occurs to me that you might find it stimulating to be reminded of your superior rank during an intimate moment."

Wha-?

"Was that a joke, Mr Spock?"

"No." His tone was perfectly deadpan.

Jim burst out laughing while his mind reeled, going in two very opposite directions. One was loudly and happily celebrating that he'd gotten Spock to tell a joke, which was great, but the other… the other was contemplating what Spock had said, and liking it just a little too much.

"Jim, while I am always glad to be a source of amusement for you, should you not rest now?"

Jim's laughter died down to a low chuckling, and he nodded. "Sure, Spock. Are you, uh, certain you wouldn't like to sleep?"

"No. As I said before, I do not need to sleep at this moment, I will work instead. Vulcans require less hours of sleep than humans do."

"Yeah, I know that, you keep reminding me."

"Make yourself comfortable, Jim." Was all his first officer said.

There was an awkward pause and it seemed to Jim that both he and Spock realised something at the same time. Spock turned around slowly in his rotating chair, then stood up.

"You brought nothing with you from your room, Captain?"

Jim rolled his eyes and yes, he and Spock were definitely on the same page.

"About that…"

"Jim, you did not bring the appropriate clothing to change into, did you?"

"Uh… I may have forgotten my pajamas, yes."

Up went the eyebrow.

"I am assuming you did not do this intentionally?"

"'Course not! I'm just not used to taking pj's when I go… sleep somewhere else."

"You are implying there is no need to be clothed when you are not in your own bed, Jim?"

"Hey, sometimes not even then."

The other eyebrow followed. They both glared at Jim, who felt a bit cornered.

"Eh… I didn't mean... well, sort of, that's how it usually, uh, goes down. But in my defense, I've been sleeping in my own bed for the past half year, okay?"

This, at last, made Spock drop his superior tone (in other words, his normal tone) and appear genuinely surprised.

"You have not had sexual intercourse in six months?"

"I was trying not to say that…" Jim muttered, annoyed. "I'm the Captain of this ship, Mr Spock." Hey, where did the 'Mr' come from? Maybe he was really annoyed. "I can't just go around being that guy, you know? I don't want to… ugh, forget it. I'll just go to my quarters and get a pair of pants or something."

"You must not leave." Spock said immediately, and maybe just a little louder than was required for such a small room.

"Why not?"

"If you are seen to exit my quarters 9,42 minutes after entering them, the crew might draw the wrong conclusions."

Jim felt this was a little odd for a logical explanation, but decided he wasn't going to push it.

"Okay. Then I guess I can just sleep in my uniform…" he trailed off, thinking it was gonna be pretty uncomfortable in those pants with the heat.

Spock had apparently thought similarly, as he pointed out: "The fabric of our respective uniforms is not ideal for repeated friction with a sensitive-"

"Fine, so I'll sleep in my underwear." Jim said exasperatedly.

"That seems the most logical course of action." Spock nodded, apparently satisfied and smug once more, which Jim couldn't resist poking at.

"That's what you were going for from the get-go, wasn't it, you pervert?"

It worked. Spock's eyes widened and his mouth became a thin line; he seemed torn between horror, disbelief, anger and a kind of shocked incredulity. His face, as ever, was reserved, but that didn't fool Jim anymore. He felt grimly proud of his ability to see through Spock's walls.

"You are grievously mistaken, Captain, if you remain under the impression that I will derive any sort of sexual pleasure from the sight of your body."

Jim's grin slipped from his face.

"Right."

He took off his shoes a little more aggressively than was really necessary.

"I have offended you again." Spock said, this time surprised.

"No you haven't, Spock. Why would you offend me?"

"I apologise."

"For what?"

"… I am not certain."

Jim laughed, glad to shrug off his sudden, irrational anger, because it was kind of horrible to be so vulnerable to Spock's every word. "It's okay, Spock. I guess I must be very tired."

"I did not mean to suggest your body is not appealing. Sexually." Jim groaned, but Spock didn't understand that meant STOP. "Many of the crew, in fact, have repeatedly pointed out to me the aspects of your anatomy they find most attractive. It is true that your facial bone structure, full lips, athletic build, and of course your large eyes, and the fairly unusual bright colouring of your irises, are very-"

"Oh God, Spock... stop. Please. Not that I don't like hearing you list my most... what was that? Attractive aspects of my anatomy?"

Spock didn't answer.

"But I can't... handle this right now. I think we should just, not talk about my... that you... just not mention it. Ever again. Ever."

Spock nodded, deep in thought once more, and finally said simply: "You require sleep. As I have said before, you may use my bed."

"Thanks."

Feeling self-conscious but trying not to let it show, Jim stripped off his pants and, after a second's hesitation, also took off his shirt. Spock's bed was made, but Jim knew he wouldn't be putting more layers on, so he jumped in without bothering to slip under the covers.

"Jim, may I ask a question?"

"Shoot."

There was a pause.

"Ask away, Spock."

"Why do humans insist on wearing coloured patterns on their underclothes? Those stripes… what purpose do they serve?"

Jim smiled broadly into the pillow.

"Jim?"

"Goodnight, Spock."

*

Spock was unable to work at his usual, methodical pace. His eyes kept moving over to his Captain's sleeping form, the planes of a large, broad back and hard, defined muscles underneath cast in the glowing light of his room. The Captain's underwear remained an enigma to the Vulcan, and he had the fleeting vision of himself removing said garment to examine it further. Although in that image, somehow, the garment lay discarded on the floor.

Spock blinked in an attempt to rid himself of such imaginings. Jim lay curled up on his side, facing away from him. Jim was a beautiful creature. Perfect in his figure, both graceful and strong, innocent and… not.

A strange feeling of possessiveness surprised Spock in it's sudden appearance, as he despised the notion of people as property of something other than themselves. He shut the emotion off immediately, but the thought remained in his conscious, that Jim was his, and no one else's. Having the Captain in his room elicited many irrational responses similar to that thought, responses Spock had to work to control, and he was thankful of his Vulcan anatomy that he could regulate his own bodily functions. Tomorrow he would need to meditate for an extended period of time once again, and suppress these unacceptable thoughts. These... wrong thoughts.

Spock closed his eyes as, with a piercing clarity, his perfect, detailed memory showed him the scene from earlier in the day when Jim had kissed him. He understood the logic behind revisiting the memory, of course. Because it reminded him why Jim was forbidden and Spock must not move from his desk chair and give in to the urge... the urge to touch Jim, to stroke his back and let his tongue trail paths over the cool, smooth skin. To sink his hands in Jim's hair, and kiss Jim again, and again, again... to entwine their fingers and then...

No. That would not happen. And now, finally, Spock had concrete proof of Jim's true feelings, which was why his memory chose that moment to dwell on, presently.

At first, there on the cold bench, Spock had been stunned to realise he'd let Jim bodily force him to accept that intimate Human gesture. But soon all he could think about was the surge of emotion he'd been unable to repress, something so complete, as Jim's lips parted and Spock was consumed by what was happening, something he'd never felt before with another being, not Nyota, not anyone: fear of losing control, because it tested every bit of his resistance, yet he loved that test for what it meant, loved the hunger deep within him and wanted it more, closer, wanted more…

And through the flames in Spock's mind had shined a light that was Jim's own, and for one second it was a jumble of lust and want just like Spock's, but then it changed, flooded by a negative emotion Spock didn't understand. And although Jim kept kissing him, it was clear the action caused him pain, and Spock didn't know why, and then with a gasp they drew apart and the connection with Jim's mind was instantly severed. Spock could no longer see the bright light. He couldn not see anything. He was plunged into his usual darkness, made blacker by the memory of what had been there and was now gone.

Clearly Jim did not return Spock's impossible emotions. He had already theorised as much. The only remaining problem was the fact that Spock had not anticipated the gravity of his own reaction to the knowledge. But with more meditation he could learn to suppress that, too. He was sure of it. Perhaps not a 100 percent sure, but... quite certain. 98,736 percent, in fact.

A movement at the bed caused Spock to open his eyes. Jim had shifted and now lay flat on his back, eyelids closed, obviously asleep. Spock realised he must push back the feeling threatening to cause his unused tear ducts to secrete lachrymal fluid, and with a considerable effort he managed it.

Focusing his mind on other things to ensure it didn't come back, Spock let himself examine Jim's sleeping form once more. His Captain's strong arms lay at his sides and his breathing was profound and relaxed. Spock, with his conflicting, dark emotions, with his terrible, illogical desires, envied Jim's current state of being more than anything.

Because he craved that Human with a force that was not logical.

*

"Did you see the Captain's face this morning? It didn't happen."

"Are you listening to yourself? They slept in the same freakin' room!"

"That doesn't mean they slept together."

"But they slept in the…! Oh come on, are you serious? Even if something hadn't happened before, which I still doubt, surely it would have happened now?"

"Nothing happened, I'm telling you. Kirk looked like someone had dangled a carrot in front of his face for ten hours and not let him bite."

"Okay, that is so wrong!"

"Shut up, I didn't mean it like that!"

"I still totally say they did it. This is James T. Kirk we're talking about."

"Nope. I'm totally not making this up, make sure you check out the Captain's expression next time you're called to the bridge. You'll see."

"Fine, I'll do that. Now, about the sightings of Spock with a towel…"

"I know. I couldn't believe it either, but apparently Greg from Communications saw it, and it's all true."

"Damn, I wish I'd been there."

"Me too, girl. Me too."

THE END.

Well, it's over, folks. What a great time I've had with you, thanks for all the support and... Nah, just kidding.

But I would like to say, thank you all SO much for the wonderful feedback I got! Seriously, you rock. Totally. I don't think my ego can take much more… nope, wait, YES it can ;)

So, there is a Part 4. Obviously. But this is definitely the last one, I tell you! No, really! The actual last one!