Every Hug


The Seventh Time


After our conversation regarding the matter of emotional displays came a time of relative peace and diplomacy, during which we were not assigned any particularly traumatising missions. Jim conducted business efficiently as usual, and sometimes seemed about to ask me something but never actually did. I completed my duties as science officer and had the chance to spend more time in research and laboratory tasks.

Due to these circumstances, therefore, the discussion of our agreement was never warranted, and so we did not even need to think of it. Or use it.

But what I did… was something else.

It was after some time that I was forced to confront my own actions during this period, once I realised what I had been inadvertently doing. Because to my own disgust these actions had not been happening under my strict control, a mistake so dishonourable that I had not even spared a moment to contemplate it's possibility.

Because it was dishonourable. And deplorable, and shameful, and my discovery of it's existence shocked me so deeply that I requested an entire evening to devote entirely to meditation.

For, you see… I had been stealing covert glances into Jim's mind.

Working with many tactile beings a touch telepath such as myself naturally developed the necessary mental shields, and strengthened and honed them in order to ensure I could maintain productivity and focus. This was entirely logical, even without taking into consideration the terrible violation it was to look onto other's thoughts without their express permission. Especially Humans, as they do not possess significant telepathic abilities.

With the exception of Jim, I avoided physical contact with the rest of the crew entirely, yet if it became necessary I could be confident that I would not perceive their innermost thoughts.

I should have remembered that Jim always said rules were made to be appropriately bent up to the point where they almost broke but not quite in case someone was paying attention, unless of course the rules were just plain wrong and then they could go 'fuck themselves'.

And in this instance, that was exactly what they did.

Well, not literally of course. Rules are not sentient beings, and have no sense of… in any case, the colourful turn of phrase is not relevant at this time.

Much to my own disappointment, I cannot say with accuracy when my little obsession began. But once I realised what had been happening, it was all too clear that I must stop.

The Captain and I passed each other on the hallway outside our respective quarters, and the back of my hand would brush his bare arm. The Captain requested my presence on the bridge and my fingers would accidentally graze his shoulder when resting against the back of his chair. The Captain would stumble and I would catch him, not by simply putting out a steadying arm, but instead holding him carefully with both hands.

And every time out skins touched, my guard slipped and my defences lifted and I tasted his mind.

When I had realised what I was doing, my first thought went to putting an end to it. Jim had felt nothing when it had happened therefore I did not need to tell him, and although I knew the reason behind my terrible examinations was purely that of scientific study, to a Human it might easily sound… not so pure. Especially if a certain Human who also happened to claim to exercise the medical profession ever came to learn of what I had done.

So I stopped stealing glances into his consciousness. I did not stop touching him, as I was perfectly capable of self-control, and if I did strengthen my mental shields it was not because I might be tempted to lower them around my Captain if they were weaker.

I did not forget, of course. Forgetting is an entirely Human concept which continues to elude me.

Jim's mind was… bright.

Feeling it left me… empty.

That is the only word that comes close to describing what happened to me after the shortest, the briefest of touches and reaching into a place that was so vast and scintillating and intense and complex and incandescent and auroral why could I only think of adjectives once associates with light and radiance? I only got the smallest image before I was not touching him anymore, so I was left with echoes of shining threads of ideas and alone, all alone.

In my thirst for the knowledge of all things that I did not know, I hungered for more of Jim.

More of his glorious golden emotions and electrical vibrant sensations and the way his muscles moved when I once touched his neck and he tensed, startled at the contact, and his thoughts focused so precisely and singularly on the contact and he was so alive under my fingers…

"Spock?"

I wanted to touch his face because that would make it easier, faster, better and I would not be limited to watching, and I could experience, I could feel, perhaps once I was inside I could understand

"Spock! Are you feeling okay?"

I was sitting in my chair in my quarters and Jim had his arms on the armrests because my hands were folded over my lap, and they must stay there.

"Forgive me, Captain. I am in need of rest."

This was not a lie.

"Yeah, 'cause I've been staring at you for the past ages and you seemed totally lost in your own thoughts. Like I wasn't even there." Jim's smile gleamed like a fresh coat of paint.

"Jim… I have not yet recovered from the sensations I experienced yesterday at Welden B. I do apologise if I am… somewhat less capable today."

This was also not a lie, and in all likelihood it was the only reason why Jim had come into my quarters without asking for admittance first.

"That sucks. I'm really sorry about that, Spock. I had no idea they would be so… tactile. That's actually why I came over, I mean I know you weren't expecting me or anything, but I was thinking…"

I waited for him to find the words. He straightened his stance, effectively leaning away from me.

"… I was thinking about, you know how about the last time we said… I mean, it doesn't make any sense because that last thing you want right now is probably to touch someone, I know, but I… no, I don't know, and that's what I'm asking… I think… is what I'm doing."

"You are offering… physical comfort?"

His face flushed, and he grinned ruefully. "Don't get too excited, Spock, all I'm offering is a hug."

"Yes, that is what I was referring to."

But I would decline his offer. It was generous but Jim did not know that he must be guarded from my illogical desires.

"So… uh, do you want one?"

Under Jim's skin there was a world, a hidden, forbidden world that I wished to experience. But must keep myself from.

"Spock?"

I had to shield him from my curiosity.

"Spock, you're doing that thing again."

"My apologies once more, I was ruminating."

"Oh." He looked saddened by my confession, and turned to leave. How… illogical. "Right, I'll leave you to it then."

"No!" I stood quickly, so quickly the chair I had been sitting on crashed to the floor and fractured, because of the excessive force of it's impact. Jim was obviously startled, as I tended toward not displaying the full extent of my physical strength among the crew.

"Okay, okay, I'm here." He said, voice soothing and kind. "I'm here if you need someone to talk to or… oh, I don't know, Spock, I can't keep guessing all the time. Will you please just tell me what you want? Please? Just tell me."

His eyes were enormous.

"Jim…"

But I did not know what I wanted. Because I wanted to dive into his mind and become so absorbed in it's fascinations that I would not remember what yesterday had felt like, to be so assaulted by the barrage of sensations I did not wish to know, and I wanted to immerse myself in the fluid, bold way Jim thought which was entirely different from my own and yet… and yet…

"Jim, I…"

Something was happening to me.

Something was wrong with me. Something to do with Jim, something that I did not understand. Yet.

"I do not know." I said quietly. "I do not know what I want."

Because I also wanted to protect him from myself, to protect his frail, breakable bones from my inhumanly powerful hands that longed to touch, and explore, and meld

Something was terribly wrong. I did not think like this, I was never like this, not about Jim or anyone, never.

"Okay. Okay, Spock. I'll tell you what. We'll do this slowly, and if you feel crowded, or overwhelmed, or… whatever, you just tell me and I'll back off immediately. Deal?"

"That would be acceptable. Thank you, Jim."

I spoke these words whilst thinking that this was not a 'good idea'. This was a very, very bad one, in fact. Jim was so delicate and I… I thought he would find it humorous to hear me thinking of him in that way. 'Yes that's me, Jim Kirk, the delicate flower, Spock' he would say, and his face would break into a wonderful, beautiful smile and I would attempt to stop my lips from curving in response.

"Just say when."

He slowly extended his arms and stepped toward me, his face so very close, the elegant, strong line from his temple down his cheek and jaw more tempting than I could have ever imagined.

"Okay so far?"

"You have not made contact yet."

At that he nodded his head down and gave a small chuckle. "Right. Let's see how this is for contact, then." And he slid his arms under mine in a slow caress and tightened their hold progressively. His head leaned against my cheek.

I closed my eyes.

"Is this okay, Spock? Is this better?"

It was. But I knew how it could be, how perfect it could be if I let myself probe, just a little bit, deeper, beyond the barrier that was his skin and mine and every inch of contact between the two.

I reminded myself to be careful with his fragile Human body when I bent my face down so it rested in his shoulder, and tightened my own hold around him, because my hands had instinctively come to press flat against his back.

I resisted my own impulses with every barrier of control I had. It took a very long, very gruelling time of intense battle with my own strength of will not to give in. I knew it was my Human side that wanted to soak in Jim's mind again so irrationally, without caring about the consequences the action would bring.

"Spock?"

It occurred to me then that a hug was not, in fact, a comforting gesture at all.

It was completely selfish.

"Thank you, Jim."

He fisted his fingers around the fabric of my shirt and made an incredibly low, weak sound at the back of his throat which he was probably unaware of. It sounded sad and painful, but his voice was normal when he sighed and answered:

"Anytime, Spock."


First off, thank the awesome FallChild92 for being, well, awesome, and my new beta!!! :D *claps*

And this is my new favourite hug. Yay! Besides the next one, which I have already begun writing and is totally my favourite. Also, I am totally not teasing you at all!

Remember what I said about reviews being Sporks? Yeah, still totally true ;)