Here's what's gonna happen.

I still have the epilogue left to post. That should be up soon *crosses fingers*

BUT I'm on vacation! This is awesome for many reasons, but one of them isn't that I don't have as much access to a computer as I'd like. (I promise Hate This is not forgotten! I'm in the process of writing the Great Big Final Chapter, although I'm afraid you might have to wait a tiny little bit for that since, like I said, limited computer time is limited :S)

HOWEVER! I'm very, VERY excited about my new monster slow-building fic, which I'll start posting meanwhile! It's called "Veritas" and I can't wait for you to read it! :D (/end self-pimp)

I'm terribly nervous, but also satisfied (contradiction much?) to present the final chapter of Every Hug!

The Twenty-first and Twenty-second Times

"Spock!"

I increased my pace.

"Spock, I know you can hear me."

His insistent, stubborn tone seemed to indicate that the Captain was, indeed, recuperated, and fixed upon locating me. In that case I stopped, logically deciding that if he wished to speak to me, Jim need only follow me to the bridge.

"Ha! I knew it."

He clapped my back and whirled to stand in front of me in his (I theorised hastily put on) regulation trousers and all-black undershirt.

"Spit it out, then."

I was unable to summon any negative reaction at his tone; cheerful yet somehow with an undercurrent of determination.

"This issue is not to be discussed in a public setting, Captain," I informed him. Several crewmembers appeared to be under the mistaken impression that they had been successful in their attempts to eavesdrop on our conversation in a covert manner.

"Okay, we can go to my quarters then." He shrugged and preceded me toward the turbolift.

The doors hissed shut behind us and Jim directed it to the appropriate Deck, then turned around once more. "Don't you wanna know how I realised you've got something really important to tell me?" he teased.

"I informed you of the fact that I required a conversation three point two—"

"It was when you hugged me! Voluntarily! And I thought 'wait a minute, is this real life?', because, well, I was mostly half-asleep at the time and also—"

The lift had paused to admit two science offiers; Karl Jaeger and Lieutenant Doaa, whom I acknowledged with a nod and Jim greeted with a faint smile and an "At ease, gentlemen."

We both exited the space 6.115 seconds later, and upon resuming out pace through the corridors I noted Jim's countenance had become more reserved and almost… melancholy.

"In you go," he quipped with forced lightness. I refrained from commenting on his unexpected change of 'mood'.

"What is it, then?" was his instant demand, abandoning any pretense of good-humour once the door had hissed shut behind him. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I… it is a deeply personal matter."

"Huh?"

I gathered the impression that my statement had confused him.

"It is a… I believe the accurate term is… confession."

"… Confession," Jim repeated, now suspicious. "I'm not still asleep, am I?"

"No, Captain."

"Oh. You mean… is something wrong?"

I could not inform him accurately of the events unless he possessed the necessary knowledge of our customs.

"Are you familiar with the concept of a Vulcan telepathic bond?"

This time Jim's expression underwent a rather alarming transformation; from curious and kind-eyed to sickly pale, and distant. "Yes," he replied quickly. "Yes, is that what you wanted to tell me? That you're bonded with someone?"

"Yes Captain, I—"

"Really?" He choked out, staggering backwards as though I had struck him. For 0.746 seconds I expected him to react in despair, almost, a most irrational conclusion with no basis in visual evidence, which made me slower to reply that I would have ordinarily been.

And then: "Well, that's wonderful! Congratulations!"

There was a time when I could be certain that Jim was lying, before emotional complications and compromised relationships… an echo of this sense returned when he smiled and kept speaking as though no other news had ever given him such joy.

Something was indefinably wrong.

"A bond, wow! Isn't that almost like a marrige? Or a betrothal, at least?"

I was able to pin-point the source of my discomfort when I realised that his friendly tone was at odds with a strange sort of vacant helplessness in his eyes.

"Thanks for telling me, Spock! Means a lot that you'd think to give me the news before anyone else… so, who's the lucky girl? Is she Vulcan? Or Human?"

"Captain, he is Human, if you will allow me to—"

"That's great, that's… wait, he?"

"Jim—"

"You…!" He slumped down onto his bed in a graceless movement, as though his legs were simply unable to support him anymore. "What? But… but I always thought… I mean, life-long mates had to be… of the other sex, right? Same-sex relationships can't be… I mean, otherwise propagation of the species… you don't even believe in love! All that matters is passing on genetic information, isn't it? And especially at a time like this—" A hand was clamped over his mouth in horror. "Oh shit, I'm being an insensitive idiot again. I'm so sorry. I just—I thought you weren't… allowed. That it would be illogical. I always… I had no idea that you would actually consider… oh boy."

He rubbed his temples with two fingers, as if to soothe away a headache.

"It is not… frequent. However, choosing a bondmate is a logical process, and if the ideal candidate is not able to produce offspring then other means are possible at this stage in the development of genetic engineering and technology, Captain. My very existence is proof that the field has evolved significantly."

"Right. Of course. How stupid of me." A dry, racking laugh, more reminiscent of a cough, and then with some visible effort, another wide smile. "Well I'm very happy for you!"

"… You are not displaying the traditional attributes of Human happiness," I suggested after a short pause.

"Shut up, yes I am," Jim retorted defensively. "It's just… he'd better be awesome. If he's gonna try and deserve you… yeah, he'd better be pretty fucking amazing."

There was no logical reason for me to exibit outward frustration, or to expel the air from my lungs in a notable manner that might possibly be referenced to as a 'sigh'. But he had completely misinterpreted my words, and I knew I must correct this assumption with haste.

"Jim… bonds can be formed unintentionally."

"What?" He looked up, once again showing signs of confusion. "What's that even…? Why are you telling me this? What does that even mean?"

"It is a rare happenstance, however, it has been known to occur—"

"Spock." Jim got to his feet, planting them slightly apart in a firm stance and resting his hands on his hips. "Listen. If there's something you need to tell me, please, please just say it. Be direct."

"I am attempting to provide you with the necessary information to ensure that you may comprehend what—"

"Just tell me!" Jim snapped. "I'm a pretty smart guy, I'm sure I can handle it. Tell me!"

"We are bonded."

There was a 3.901 seconds pause. "You and who?"

"Jim… we are bonded."

"Yes, I heard you the first time," He said impatiently. "You and…?" His voice trailed away. "Wait."

"Jim—"

"Wait. 'We' as in… you and me?"

At last, he understood. "Affirmative."

"Affirmative? B—what? Are you kidding me? We're… but... how…? Does that mean…? But I thought bonds only happened when both…! But you don't… you don't, do you?"

"I am sorry."

An admittance, and the look in his eye told me he caught my mistake, even in his total panic he caught this small slip. There were many more to come.

"I did not know… I have already stated this. My apologies." I must regain control. Calm. Serenity. "I did not intend… I did not mean to harm you in any way. I did not mean to deprive you of a future life with a woman whom you could love, I did not mean to… to steal…" That word was incorrect, not fitting, not proper, I must remember who I was. Vulcan. "… my apologies again, I did not wish for you to—I only wished for your happiness. That was my only request."

And now I was lying. For I had wished for so much more than his happiness… I had chosen him, in his entirety, Jim in his laughter and his bravery and intelligence and—and listing his positive qualities would not be helpful in this instance, then for what purpose was I doing it?

"Forgive me. Please forgive me, I am sorry. I am… extremely sorry."

"Spock—"

"As a demonstration of my profound remorse and regret I believe it is also possible for an embrace to help you…? I believe it would be adequate?"

Jim took 0.244 lost, floundering minutes to summon a structured sentence. And the sentence was, with a disbelieving exhale of breath: "Okay then."

I advanced toward him and then paused. My hesitation was the result of warring impulses and the strange impression that this was, possibly, not 'a good idea'. It unfortunately lead to an undesirable, visible moment of indecision before my initial resolve prevailed and I was able to take him into my arms; careful to guide his head on the crook of my shoulder by positioning my hand on the back of his neck, careful with the superhuman strength pressed against his muscles, but perhaps not entirely careful—

As a touch telepath I could convey emotions through this embrace with ease (indeed, the more trying task was not doing so), however, that was not the process my instincts appeared to be following; that of providing, in all the confusion, some support, some metaphorical anchoring point to grasp and hold on to.

To this day I remain unsure as to whether it was meant for the Captain or myself.

"Spock," Jim said then, lips brushing tender flesh and how I craved the feel of his words against my skin… "Spock, I would really, and I mean really, appreciate an explanation right now. Because I'm freaking out and I don't even know why. So… um, you taking all this trouble to comfort me because of my tragically stolen innocence or whatever is great and all, and it's not that I'm complaining about the hug or anything… it's just that I don't know what you're apologising for."

Coherence often failed in the face of Jim's… in the face of Jim. Very well, my lack of clarity must be corrected.

"I see."

With one hand I pushed his body away carefully and in time to see Jim's lips clamp shut in what I suspected was an exaggerated manner, and then he stared at me, obviously expectant.

"Jim, this bond occurred without deliberation. I am aware of the fact that, despite my ignorance of its formation or perhaps because of it, I am to blame. Due to my… emotional compromise, I was blind to even my own… desires. At first."

His jaw dropped.

"However, now that I am aware of the situation, there may exist a solution to be found. It is theoretically possible to sever our bond—"

"You idiot."

I halted from my speech and waited, uncomprehending. Jim was almost shaking with laughter.

"Oh God, you idiot."

I did not know why I was being insulted, but it was extremely confusing to see Jim looking so violently ecstatic and saying 'idiot', simultaneously.

"Captain…?"

He threw his arms around me and buried his face in the hollow of my throat, limbs weak with uncontrolled mirth. I held him back without thought, utterly lost.

"You blind… you stupid idiot," he whispered passionately. I no longer had any comprehension of the situation; I did not know for what reason he deemed it necessary to call me 'idiot' on three separate sentences, nor did I presume to infer any meaning from the hug, which had been abrupt and unexpected.

If I asked, would he explain? Such contradictions, such illogic…

"I—I do not understand."

A stutter was unacceptable. I breathed deeply to calm any emotion and attempted to present the inquiry once more.

"If you would please explain, Captain—"

"I thought you knew." Jim pulled away by holding my face in his hands and grinning widely. "I thought you were being kind and polite, like always, and delicate and not mentioning it because you're so uptight and anyway how would anyone even start a conversation like that, right? But I swear, I swear I had no idea you were this… dumb!"

Hurt is… emotional hurt is more difficult to contain than physical injury, I have explained this many times before.

"Jim, I apologise for my inconvenient lapse in understanding, please clarify—"

"I love you, you idiot!"

Stillness. Silence. Concentration. Reflection and questions, so many questions.

He loved me? Was he lying? No, there was no purpose in—how could a Human love me…? How could a being such as Jim love me…? Impossible. Was it possible? He had just stated it, obviously it was possible, if it was real, if it was factual, if I had not misunderstood, unless of course I was attaching an erroneous meaning to the word and Jim's meaning was not that of a romantic nature, or perhaps—

"You're alive."

"Man, you're really something, aren't you, Spock?"

"You said I can hug you."

"Oh, it's my desire all right."

"Kiss me."

"I want Spooooooock!"

"I'm sorry. I'm touching you again. It's just so tempting!"

"I love that I can just do that whenever I want."

"I know you obviously don't feel anything for me in the… uh, romantic sense. I mean, we're friends, and I'm totally cool with that, I love that. It's great. I love being your friend. But if you were attracted to me, well, that wouldn't be a crime, or anything. Is what I'm trying to say. Because I—"

"I think you're really hot."

"I just admitted I'm attracted to you and you're not gonna give a little warning that you're about to take your clothes off?"

"Are you reading my thoughts?"

"Hug me?"

"I'm not saying I'm in love with you or anything!" Not saying it... and not denying it, either.

Perhaps it was simply the truth.

"Spock? Is it gonna have to be learning by repetition? I love you. I don't want you to break the bond because I love you." He leaned forward, hands clasped firmly behind his back for reasons I was to grasp later. "I really, really want to kiss you, all the time, but I'm used to that so it's okay. I mean, if you need a moment, you can just keep standing there for a little longer. If you want."

I may be allowed to keep it, then, this infant of a link, this cherished tie…?

"… and although I'll admit it's a bit unnerving, I've probably still got another minute of not-kissing you in me somewhere…"

Such an elevated number of issues to consider. And then there, in front of me, Jim with brightness in his eyes. Jim, speaking nonsensical chatter to distract me, in all probability, still helping, even now, or especially now.

"… oh and also I'm sorry I called you an idiot so many times—"

"Four."

A low chuckle.

"Four times, then. Hey, your minute's gonna be up in about fifteen seconds," Jim grinned tentatively, looking at me from under his golden lashes. "You'd better say something before then or I'm gonna kiss you and I don't think I'm gonna stop. And you won't be able to complain because I just gave you fair warning."

Nine seconds, now. Not sufficient time to adequately express much of anything, not in eight, seven, six…

And so I said nothing, but allowed some of what was not being said to permeate my features, and Jim made an audible grunt or perhaps it was a repressed groan of frustration and on two point three seconds—

Our lips connected, and then parted to allow tongues to dance, and metaphors were not forbidden here because exact science was no longer enough to contain the extent of my emotions, because it became so impossible to deny that I had emotions when they poured out of my body with every kiss we shared, akin to tidal-waves of the Earth sea.

"You lied," I informed him the first time I allowed him a moment's separation to inhale oxygen. "You did not wait the previously established full minute before—"

"Shut up, Spock," Jim laughed. "I think we're both done waiting."

A most valid argument.

How delightfully expressive Humans were; Jim was a song of moans and little hitched breaths and a low, low hum at the back of his throat which I now recognised. And his hands found mine soon after, and his thoughts sought out mine in a blind thrust, and the frenzy slowly unwound deep in the recesses of my mind until I was alert enough to fear its grip.

"Jim."

He drew back, rushing air being inhaled and expelled by his mouth like a thunderstorm.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"I… you must take care. I may… I may not be entirely in control of… I fear doing you injury, or not… not possessing the ability to stop, should you wish that at any point—"

"No. No I don't think I'll wish that." Jim grinned, fearless when fear was necessary, when one must experience fear to remain safe. "And I trust you, Spock, in ways that you don't trust yourself yet."

"I…" It was illogical to encounter a difficulty in expressing a concept to him. And yet. "I feel…" Jim's eyes widened slightly, and he held his breath, gaze intently fixed upon my own. He must know. It was relevant and he had to be told.

"I feel fear, Jim."

There was that sound again, the weak, pained little cry before he kissed my lips.

"Oh God. Spock, you… I love you so much."

Initially I questioned the relevance of that statement in the face of what I had just exposed, but as seconds passed and all Jim did was clutch my form with his large Human hands and breathe, comprehension began to dawn.

"Thank you," I murmured against his forehead, which was pressed to my lips. Reciprocation was perhaps necessary at this point. Suddenly I was flooded by the urgency to inform him of every detail, of the feeling I had dared to call love beneath toxic rain and which I now knew to be fuelling the connection we shared. "Jim, you are aware… you must be aware of my intentions… my intentions…" No, he was smiling brightly but no, that was not the correct word. But how to explain…

"I don't need you to talk to me about love, Spock," Jim said then. "I already know... I know that now. I don't need to hear constant assurances… just the one is enough. Just this bond, this… that's enough, and I'll tell you I love you as many times as you want to hear it (and I know you'll never actually admit that out loud but you will want to hear it, and that's okay because I'm awesome and I can read your mind, literally), but with you… all I'd ask of you now is that you show me."

The bright smile evolved into a wicked grin, which was somehow brighter still.

"Show me."

I took his hand and was unsuccessful in my attempts to smother a kind of feeling I rarely found the need to fight. For Jim there had been many new experiences (never my usual, blissful indifference), and some familiar ones; anger first, as well as contempt, but over time had come respect, estimation, and... and now there was an unfitting, almost uncomfortably powerful reverence for this man who was, after all, merely a Human male, and yet.

"Well if I am to demonstrate appropriately you must shed your clothes. Captain."

This certainly served to shock him.

"Yes, sir."

Not for long, obviously.

With admirable speed shirt, boots and pants were flung in various directions, and I noted my own increase in heart-rate and pupil dilation, mirrored by Jim standing there, breathing heavily and blatantly defiant in his beauty.

Although I was not unaware that one particularly conspicuous piece of clothing remained.

"Your turn."

"Perhaps later—"

"No way. You're eighty-seven percent covered skin. We're making this even right now."

I felt a positive reaction to what might very well be established as 'banter'.

"If you wish to make an equitable trade I may suggest fair terms..."

"Spock." Jim heaved a happy sigh "You should really know by now that I don't play by the rules."

And then suddenly he had leapt on top of me and tackled me to the floor, laughing delightedly, tearing at cloth and hair and I could feel it, unstoppable, a smile about to curve my lips, fuelled and flooded by happiness.

"So just... ha!" He dodged a strategic blow and ripped a sleeve of my blue uniform shirt. "Just to be... oof, clear...!" He was gasping for breaths now, laughter and exertion necessitating more oxygen to his lungs and bloodstream. I was not truly attempting to fight him off; indeed the knowledge that I could have did I want to, but chose not to, seemed to be part of this game. "To be clear, you... I mean, I... ah, can... hug you again, yeah?" More fabric was ruined; how inconvenient.

"Jim, we have..." His giggle abruptly turned into a yelp when I rolled us over, pinning him down by his forearms. "We have embraced on twenty-two occasions. I am unsure as to whether this counts as the twenty-third."

"You kept count?"

"Of course."

He laughed loudly. "I never figured I'd be one totally whipped sucker," he said. And seeing my doubt, explained with a grin; "I mean, I never imagined you'd have the ability to drive me crazy with, frankly, rather indignant ease."

I kissed his lips delicately, trusting his earlier words still applied in this situation.

"Are you ready to concede defeat, then, and allow my garments to remain?"

Jim's response to this was to attempt to dislodge me by moving his hips. He did not succeed in that particular objective; however he did manage to elicit a rather fascinating reaction with the motion...

"Oh."

"I love it when you do that. Keep talking," Jim ordered happily from underneath me.

"I... it... I..."

"Wow, Spock splutters incoherently. This is officially the day when the universe starts calling me Captain Awesome!"

"That scenario is... ah, highly impossible."

"There's no such thing as highly impossible! Another win for me!"

"Jim—"

He kissed my lips again, longer, deeper, stirring too many responses to catalogue, and I released his arms and allowed him to sit up, wrap them around my neck, pull me down again...

There was no logic in remaining on the floor when, wasting but four seconds, these activities could be transferred to the more comfortable bed. There was no reason not to spare those few seconds, seconds that might be later made up for properly.

However, all I knew at the time was... there was simply no way.

Yes, I did a fade to black! (*hides*) I'm… sorry? But this story isn't about K/S having mad hot sex (oh God, is it? XD) it's about luuuurve and keeping its T rating, and unhealthy amounts of fluff and happy endings, which after all are very healthy, and hugs and kisses and angst and a lot of UST because I'm like that, so I hope you'll forgive me! ;)