Author: Caeyle
Rating: PG-13 (either you get it, or you don't)
Fandom: Star Trek: TOS
Category: romance wince
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Summary: Spock's POV of Kiss. Why did Spock do what he did? K/S slash
Warnings: Very, very, very, very bad characterization. Very. SLASH
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Paramount or whoever owns them, not me.
One mission that quickly turned dangerous, one close encounter with death, one long stay in sickbay with Doctor McCoy yelling about starship captains and how they manage to get nearly killed all the time, and then… nothing. Everything back to normal, the Enterprise headed for another planet. . . as if nothing of importance ever had happened. But it was important. Jim Kirk had almost died.
It wasn't fair. Nothing in life was fair, he reminded himself. Jim knew the risks, maybe knew them too well. But still… It was the waiting, sitting by that sickbay bed, not knowing for sure if he would live or die, listening to the frantic orders from the doctor. He had done that far too often. Closing his eyes, he tried to block out those memories. He should have had enough mental control to do so, but his emotions were too strong, his will too weak. . .
Desert hot heat, burning, wanting. . . needing. . . loving. . . Earth cool, quenching, demanding. . . desire. . . th'y'la. . .
His communicator chirped, bringing him out of his reverie. He reached for it, forcing those thoughts under, downwards. . . wrong place. He groaned. I am Vulcan, I am-- "Spock here."
"You were supposed to meet me in my quarters for a chess game, remember?" He leaned into that voice. That voice was enough to. . . He cut his thoughts short, and for a moment, considered canceling to attempt to meditate. I am Vulcan. . . He dismissed that idea. He had been trying to meditate for an hour with no results. Perhaps if he distracted himself, the thoughts would not come, the nightmares would not come, the dreams would not come… Besides, he had an illogical need to see Jim, alive, whole. As some sort of confirmation that he was still alive. No, the voice was not enough, not nearly enough. . .
"I am coming."
"See you soon. Kirk out."
His game was off, he knew. He had lost two games, games that he should have been able to win. He was far too distracted with thoughts he should not have, as a Vulcan, especially as a Vulcan. He wanted to touch him, touch his mind. Protect him. The thought shocked him even as he thought it, even though he knew it was true. Kirk's voice broke his reverie. "Anything on your mind, Spock?"
The question caught him by surprise and he gave an automatic answer before realizing it was completely false. "No." He quickly forced his Vulcan façade on. "Yes. . . what kind of 'thing', Captain?" he glanced up from the board, trying to discern what Kirk wanted.
Kirk got that determined look on his face. "I don't know. You seem rather preoccupied lately. Nothing to do with the mission?"
"No, Captain," Spock answered more tersely than he wished. He had almost said it. Almost… what if he did? No. He. Could. Not.
"What is it? You can tell me, Spock. I'm your friend." No, I cannot, can't, don't... Too soon… "No one can overhear you in my quarters." Ask me later, when I can give you something close enough to the truth… not now… "Spock, you lost the last two chess games we played, and you're about to lose this one. If what ever is bothering you is distracting you this much, it could affect your performance on duty." No… do not… He could feel himself shaking. "Tell me. That's an order, Mr. Spock."
You are ordering me to sacrifice our friendship! I cannot say— "I—- " he straightened, looking past Kirk at the shelf of old books. Paper books. . . "I am. . ." many books. . . "in. . ." it was a wonder. . . "love with. . ." that they did not fall apart. . . "someone" after so long. He was blushing. It wouldn't take long for Kirk to find out.
"Oh, is that all?" Kirk's tone was carefully light, the type he used when he was trying to put someone off guard. "I'm surprised you would admit to having this illogical, human emotion." As long as it stays teasing. . .
"I am half human." He was playing for time. . . as long as he did not have to say who. . .
"And you think Vulcans don't fall in love? What about your father?" He resisted the urge to close his eyes. You never have known how hard we can fall. . . "There are two things you could do. You could try to ignore it, or you could try to formulate some type of relationship with this 'someone'." If only you knew. . .
"I have been trying to ignore it. . . forever." He didn't realize he had spoken until he looked into Kirk's eyes, seeing the concern. Control, Spock, control. . . If you live among humans you are corrupted by their emotions. . . He had to say something, anything. . . "What would you do?"
He looked at the board, felt Kirk's eyes on him. "If it obviously won't go away. . . I would tell her I loved her and see what happens," your eyes are beautiful, so many colors. . . "Or you could kiss her and see what she does. . ." Control. . . none. . . He was not. . . He had somehow lost control of his body, lost control of everything. . . give in. . . do something. . . anything. . .
He stood, desperately. He should have never come, not in the state he was in. . . Blood pounding in his head, arousal flowing through his body. . . He knew if he turned, if he looked at Kirk, he would lose every bit of control he had. He did so anyway. Kirk stood up, confusion in his eyes. "Since it will not go away. . ." He spoke, but he hardly knew what he was saying. He was drowning in those eyes, blue green like the oceans Vulcan does not have. . . He gave in.
So cool, cool and burning. . . drowning in the saltiness. . . so aroused. . . mine. . . yesssss. . . He was being pushed against the table and he went, feeling as if he would collapse if he was left to stand alone. . . Needed more. . . He reached around, pressing Jim closer, thrusting against him. . . So close already. . . He felt the love even without the meld, equal want, equal desire. . . How had this happened? It did not matter, not now, just as long as there was Jim. . .
Body against body, mouth locked on mouth, hardness pressed against hardness, soul bared to soul. . . "Jim. . ." he whispered, not knowing quite what to say. Jim opened his eyes and he looked into them, a window into Jim's soul, Jim's soul and his own. My th'y'la. . .
Jim spoke, voice so aroused, so raspy he could hardly recognize it. "Since it will not go away. . . I love you."
FIN 8/16/02