HAPPY (ONLY SLIIIGHTLY) BELATED K/S DAY MY BBS, AND MAY IT HAVE BEEN A SLASHY AND WONDERFUL DAY FOR ALL OF YOU!
SO! I've been asked to warn for sexy times by several people, and this is what I am doing now. Given the way I cut the last chapter I believe it was entirely possible for you to infer what happenstace must be occurring in the first half of this one. I trust you shall therefore consider yourselves appropriately forewarned.
…In other words: porn
(ALSO SCHMOOOP LATER ON. BECAUSE APPARENTLY I CAN'T RESIST THE SCHMOOP)
Chapter Twenty-One: Concordia Cum Veritate
You know when you've been hearing that something is so amazing for so long, and you build your hopes up impossibly high and expect so much of it, too much of it, that you end up rather epically disappointed?
Well, it was nothing like that.
x
Long fingers tightened around his wrist, and Jim gave a tiny little choked-off gasp. It was a barely-there echo of a sound, too low for Human ears, and it could have been easily disregarded, like it might as well have never happened. But Spock… Spock's eyes locked with his and his grip became even more constricting, in a way that was edging towards painful, and yet it made Jim's breathing hitch erratically.
Ben... hadn't been lying about the 'liking it a little rough' part. Not that Spock knew, but... Christ. It kind of felt like he did.
"What…? Spock," he tried to clear his throat. "What do you want from me?"
Spock cocked his head slightly and the motion was fast and alien, strange in a way that was almost feline.
"You already know. Do not feign an innocence you do not possess."
It was that voice again. That voice Spock never used for anything else, the secret tone that was just for Jim.
Jim huffed a breath, helpless and so turned on it was painful. "Spock, you—"
And then Spock was kissing him.
There didn't seem to be an actual moment in between those two actions; one second Jim was speaking and the next Spock's tongue was licking its way inside his mouth and his teeth were gently nipping at Jim's lower lip and oh, yes, yes Jim could spend all night doing this, the last night—
But.
Okay, so the thing was… Jim had thought about this.
Plenty.
Jim had, in fact, thought about this often.
And, well, he'd had it all planned out, see.
It was one of his good plans, too. They'd take it slow. It probably wasn't going to be mind-blowingly good but it would still be perfect. He'd be gentle. He, James Tiberius Kirk, was going to treat Spock right, as if Jim really was a sweet, wholesome farmboy from Iowa in bed (which, for the record, he was anything but). This was Spock's first time, after all.
Spock, however, didn't seem to understand the plan, and if he did, he obviously wasn't very keen on it.
Nor did he seem very virginal at the moment, either.
"Spock, you—" he didn't want to sound accusing, exactly, but that was where his tone was undeniably headed right now. "You're absolutely sure you've never done this before, right?"
Spock arched an eyebrow even as his deft, long (Christ, so long) fingers pulled at Jim's hair and arms and wrists and wait, Spock only had two hands right? Damn, the guy was like an octopus, or those humanoids from Juno III with all the… appendages.
"I am quite positive, Jim," Spock replied drily, nosing his way down Jim's clavicle. "I believe I might have noticed if I'd had you writhing under me before today."
"Fuck," Jim said eloquently.
Something suspiciously like a soft chuckle sounded right by Jim's ear, but it was so low Jim figured he was imagining stuff.
The next thing he knew, he was being manhandled onto the edge of the bed and kindly divested of his recently-donned pants within seconds. He landed on his ass with a startled grunt and was confused for a long moment because he was practically naked again and unsure as to how, exactly, that had happened. He'd also been hard for what felt like the past year but that insistent throb would have to wait a little more.
"Spock, whoa there, Spock hang on—"
And then Spock had sunk his fingers in Jim's hair again and Jim was being kissed within an inch of his life, and how was Spock so good at this, Jesus Christ—
"I, hey, S—Spock!" he spluttered, planting a firm hand on Spock's chest and pushing. Spock stopped kissing him long enough to start biting and mouthing at his jaw, then going lower. "What the—uh, what are you—unh... wait."
Spock stopped. Properly. Jim may have whined a little in protest before realising he'd asked for this.
"I…"
The heat coming off Spock's skin was engulfing him, and he wanted more.
"Yes, Jim?"
"I can't believe I'm about to say this, but... this is potentially a very bad idea. You... you know that, right? You're not... emotionally compromised?"
For a long moment neither of them moved, foreheads pressed together and nose-to-nose, breathing fast, yes, even Spock, and every time Jim moved a little to suck air into his lungs his bottom lip brushed Spock's upper one and it was all he could do not to bridge that small gap and go for it again.
Spock wasn't answering.
"Spock?"
That was it, then. Spock had come to his senses and was about to suggest they stop this before it was too-
Five points of gentle pressure against his cheek and temple.
The world doesn't fade, this time. Everything is still here and he still feels it all as keenly as he did moments ago, maybe even more strongly than before now that he feels as Spock feels too.
This time is different.
Spock?
He thinks the word and doesn't move his lips. His lips are still brushing over Spock's skin almost absent-mindedly.
The last time you looked into my mind I let you see how much I want you, Jim.
I... recall.
There had been a claw-it had felt like a claw because it raked through Spock, Jim had felt-
No, Jim. You saw. Saw, but did not feel. You never felt it.
Jim is intriguedarousedafraidinlove
And now?
Now you will know.
There is not even a moment's pause to gather himself, to attempt some sort of bracing defense.
It takes him over. Instantly Jim is drowned, suffocated and charred to nothingness by the wave of heat, blistering and aching worse than an open wound. Jim knows famine, knows it like few people do, and this is very different from the need for food, different in a way that is perhaps better because even in the wanting there is some sort of sadistic pleasure, but it is still all-consuming.
It gets a bit better every time Jim groans in pleasure under Spock and Spock cannot wait to make that noise happen again-
It is manageable because I have learned to manage it and it is bearable because I have had to bear it, but an unfulfilled bond-
Unfulfilled, yes, God yes that is exactly what Jim feels right now, brutally, cruelly, achingly unfulfilled-
-is what causes this and you must never doubt that it exists. Tonight is not a temporary weakness, not a momentary loss of control.
Intermixed with this latest confession there are arrows of fear. It does not escape Jim-even in this state; this awful, starvinghungrycraving state-that Spock is afraid he is showing too much, revealing too much and he will overwhelm, overpower, frighten, confuse.
However.
The flood stops. With surgical precision Spock cuts it off and Jim is left gasping, limbs trembling ever so slightly and clutching at Spock's shirt in fistfuls to hold on to something.
It does not mean you are in any way... uncertainty, hesitation, fear again... beholden to me. I do not suffer. Manageable and bearable, my mind after my intended died left alone and unfulfilled, yes, but for you, t'hy'la, for you I wait patiently. I show you this not to ask anything of you, but to reassure.
Prove, demonstrate, this is evidence, empirical evidence. The Captain will test hypothesis and sometimes work with only a few guesses and luck but he likes it when Spock brings him results. And now he cannot deny it cannot confuse it with anything other than what it is, he cannot doubt Spock's desire any longer if he sees and feels it all.
Spock.
Jim sighs against his Vulcan's soft, warm-smelling skin. Spock may be unsure but Jim is smiling.
Spock, for God's sake. Seriously, just-
"Tell me you use the smart part of your brain to think when it's ship's business because otherwise we're all doom-mh!"
Spock kissed him again, deep, one of those kisses that stole your breath in the never-want-to-resurface-again, will-die-if-you-stop way. Jim could get used to being interrupted like this.
He closed his eyes tight and kissed back, decided that yes this was going to happen and maybe it had been destined to happen from day one even as Jim scoffed at words like 'destiny,' but maybe it was the most inevitable thing in the universe, and he was starting to grow a bit oxygen-deprived but he didn't care about other things his body needed, the other things that weren't Spock, like air.
Spock's hand slid from his cheek to his hair for purchase and Jim hissed, which made Spock's grip tighten and pleasure shoot through Jim with the spike of pain and it was like one of those tail-spinning starships crashing into the atmosphere only to explode into heat and light and plummet even faster. It was vertigo-inducing, gut-clenchingly intense. And only building.
"For ever…" he groaned into Spock's mouth when they finally managed to draw apart to breathe. "Been wanting to do this…" The hand in his hair clenched hard again and Jim's breath caught. "For f-fucking ever, Spock, I can't believe you ever thought I wouldn't feel—"
Jim cut himself off with a startled grunt when he felt Spock's other hand slide up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck and tug, baring his throat and then there was hot, wet suction on the exposed skin and a fever-hot caress as Spock's other hand slid down towards his stomach and oh, oh, so good, so good Spock—
The low pleased growl he got in response made him realize he'd said this aloud.
But... wait, Spock was kneeling on the floor and Jim was sitting on the bed and this wasn't right because his first officer still had clothes and there were parts of Jim that weren't touching Spock's skin and that wasn't acceptable. Jim was going to indicate this in some way (verbally or... non-verbally) but a second after the thought went through his mind there was a sudden flurry of confusing movement and the next thing he knew, Jim found himself lying on the bed with his head perfectly resting on the hard pillow and Spock straddling his hips. Spock was also (finally) shirtless, and his boots had thumped to the floor.
"Whoa." Jim looked up at Spock through narrowed eyes. "Are you reading my mind?"
"No," Spock said. "I get impressions, however. I can stop it, if you wish."
"Don't be ridiculous."
Jim thought about Spock's fingers as loudly and explicitly as he could until Spock's eyes widened fractionally and he offered his whole hand, palm up and perfectly steady, to Jim.
"Stop this," Jim said with a smirk, and sucked Spock's index finger into his mouth. He didn't care if he hadn't exactly made a whole lot of sense, especially not when he looked up just in time to catch Spock's long-lashed eyelids drooping, seemingly involuntarily, and his lips part in a silent cry.
Jim took advantage of that to unbutton Spock's pants and at the same time suck harder, lavishing Spock's finger with attention, whirling his tongue around it, teasing it with his teeth, and Spock's hips rocked downwards, making Jim hum against the digit.
At the slight vibration of his throat, Spock's entire body shivered and his neck tilted backwards, just for a moment. But then his eyes snapped open, ink-black pupils blown wide as saucers, and his tone was deceptively clear and firm. "Jim."
Jim's eyes widened innocently and pulled back a bit only to slide down again.
"Hm?"
"Too much," Spock said, this time his voice wobbling a bit hoarsely. There was no awed fear in his eyes like Jim remembered feeling his first time, but then again this was Spock, so there was a very good chance that it wouldn't show either way. "I... please stop."
Jim did so, feeling mightily pleased with himself. Spock briefly pulled away to discard his pants and he then was back and kissing Jim again with both hands at either side of his face, intent and deep and dizzying, but it wasn't kissing like it had been before because there was something... something was happening, something different-
A hunger that wasn't his bled through their skins where they touched and Jim moaned into Spock's mouth, felt his nerves light up like live wires, felt the hot throb of want down south as his spine liquefied and started to trickle down his shaft, or so it seemed.
"That's... cheating, you fucker," he rasped, batting Spock's hands away even as another wave of it (familiar, now, since the meld) made him shudder. He locked a leg around Spock's and tugged at the Vulcan's shoulder as hard as he could so they flipped, and now Jim was on top and Spock was sprawled on the bed deliciously.
He was under no illusions that Spock couldn't always overpower him, but it felt good to handle the man for once. Jim bit Spock's shoulder and ground their hips together and Spock made that noise again, the deep purring rumble in his chest that was near a growl but still not quite (a sound Jim was almost completely sure Humans couldn't produce).
They were about the same height but of slightly different build; Spock had always been leaner, all sinew and slender lines where Jim was a bit more stocky with well-defined muscles. Jim took a frantic moment to map out those differences; to taste the pale ridge of Spock's sharp hipbone, up the perfectly flat expanse of Spock's stomach, over his sternum right in the middle of his chest, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake, all of it too fast because the urgency was becoming too much, now. He was a touch too desperate for it and he could tell that Spock was too.
When he reached Spock's nipple and bit down softly Spock buried his fingers in Jim's hair again and pulled him up for a kiss, then some other confusing things happened and gravity was involved and Jim was under Spock again, looking up and panting a little harder.
Spock's right hand had landed on his hip and curled around the edge of Jim's boxer-briefs. In a tortuously slow move, he began sliding them down, the cloth itself a teasing brush against Jim's sensitive skin. Jim tried to hold still at first (he did, honestly) but he nearly bit through his lower lip with the effort.
"Okay, now you're just being mean-"
"Be quiet," Spock ordered, and pulled until he'd exposed Jim's leaking erection. Jim shuddered again at the sensation of cool air instead of trapping fabric, and lifted his hips so that Spock could get rid of the boxers altogether, but of course that move made him buck up right into the hard bulge in Spock's own underwear and the friction was heaven.
"Unh," was punched out of his chest.
Spock got it past his ankles and finally tossed the clothing... somewhere that Jim couldn't care less about, and then one of his hands wrapped around Jim's length and pumped.
Jim nearly cried out in shock, because he hadn't been expecting that (needing? yes, expecting? no). Spock's eyes glinted with satisfaction and an edge of fierce relish, apparently at the fact that Jim was as happy with being in command here as he was with just taking it.
To be perfectly honest, Jim was surprised at himself. First of all, he didn't let anyone make him 'take' fucking anything, okay? Second; look, dammit, he was the confident, experienced once here. He was the playboy who'd actually done this before, several times, with a plethora of varied peoples. And it felt like Spock was playing him like a fucking instrument, testing out the things he liked the way he liked them best on the first damn try, and also holy hell.
"Do you have...?" Spock started to ask, but then his voice sort of faded from Jim's range of hearing because he was talking at the same time as he squeezed too-hard which was also just-hard-enough and Jim became pretty certain that he couldn't understand the Standard language anymore.
"Huh?" Jim managed, and imagined crowds cheering at his accomplishment.
"Do you have the things we need," Spock repeated. Oh. The... the things. The very relevant things like condoms and lube that Jim seemed to have completely forgotten about. Awesome.
"You... wait, what?"
"I am perfectly knowledgeable of the mechanics, Jim," Spock said, with a hint of condescension.
"Oh." Jim's train of thought was abruptly derailed. "Jesus, did you research—you researched it, didn't you?"
"Adolescent Vulcans are assigned these subjects, among others, for study. We are a very self-taught race…"
And suddenly the image of a young Spock in his late teens reading about sex and maybe feeling his pulse quicken, not knowing why, maybe blushing a little and being most annoyed by this inexplicable reaction… hot damn.
He blindly reached up and tugged Spock down for a kiss, then used the distraction to work away at Spock's underwear. Spock helped until it, too, had landed somewhere irrelevant. The rub of skin on skin nearly made Jim's eyes roll to the back of his head.
"Fuck it," he slurred against Spock's lips. "I'm clean and I wanna... gotta feel you, I just-"
Spock raked his hands down the sides of Jim's torso, growling softly at the back of his throat in obvious approval.
"Good. You shall."
Jim groaned.
And then Spock's fingers ghosted further down and Jim, Jim just spread his legs for it and let him. He should be the one in control here but he... somehow he was allowing Spock to touch and tease and test and-and stretch him open-
Spock's finger inside of him felt impossibly hot. It burned and ached but precome and spit had made it a relatively better slide. It wasn't easy or smooth but Jim fucking loved it, found himself arching his back for more of it, silently asking for deeper.
Spock added a second finger and the little half-strangled moan that Jim didn't quite manage to cut-off in time made the Vulcan pause.
"You enjoy this. You… want this."
Jim almost said 'duh', but this was Spock's first time, after all. Saying 'duh' in the middle of it maybe wasn't the definition of tactful. So instead Jim 'hmm'd non-committally, because Spock's voice was somewhere between purring and astonished, in wonder, as though he was complimenting Jim but the reason for the praise itself surprised him. And it was so fucking hot that if Jim tried to actually speak he might say something very, painfully embarrassing.
"I-I wish to hear more."
This time Jim couldn't hold back a teensy, tiny whimper at the unapologetic sincerity in Spock's tone. He sounded like he was seconds away from adding an 'if you'd please be so kind.' Why was that hot? Jim would perhaps never know, but in that moment he didn't very much care, either.
"Do be sure to let me know as… vocally as you like."
Two fingers all the way in, past both knuckles, and Jim was too-full and it still wasn't enough.
"Have you been thinking about me in exactly this way for a long time, Jim?"
Spock's nose nuzzled his neck and Jim's breath hitched embarrassingly. He didn't quite understand what was going on here, how he'd let all of this happen with his full consent. What was Spock doing to him?
"Answer me," Spock ordered suddenly.
"Jesus."
Spock pulled back to look at him, their noses brushing.
"Naming the prophet of an old religion, Jim? Most illogical."
Spock's pupils were so blown by desire that they made him look drugged with it. Jim wanted to affectionately say 'junkie' or possibly make a terribly bad joke about how Spock was 'addicted to his love' but all he could master at the moment was a low, unintelligible sound, because higher brain-function right then? Not so much.
Spock twisted his fingers and slid deeper, then out, then added a third. It was too fast, too soon, finally, it was perfect, he knew exactly what Jim needed-
Wait.
Jim grabbed Spock's head by his hair and wrenched it down so he was talking into Spock's pointed ear.
"You can tell exactly what I want because I'm fucking telling you, can't you?" he snarled, realization a molten heat in the pit of his belly. "You're not technically reading my mind but those impressions you get are pretty damn specific, aren't they?"
"Yes," Spock replied, unapologetic. He kissed Jim again. "Our connection is strong, and your mind is powerful. As is your body."
"I knew it," Jim declared triumphantly, even as he kissed the fingers of Spock's free hand with his own, a Vulcan kiss, caressing and moving them so his nails scraped Spock's fingerpads. Spock's eyes closed for a moment, as though he was steeling himself against something. Jim had a feeling he knew exactly what Spock was having a bit of trouble with, but it was only fair to get his revenge.
"Well, that's real great and all, but I'm thinking some reciprocation is in order. Otherwise it ain't fair that you get all of the cards."
Spock's eyes snapped open and the fingers of the Vulcan's... not-free hand slipped out of Jim. Jim made an unhappy little noise at the back of his throat-he was abruptly empty and hollow and unfulfilled again, goddamn he wanted those back there or better yet, Spock's large, thick- and Spock used both arms to prop himself up over his Captain. They both knew what Jim had just thought but Jim mock-glared defiantly anyway and Spock quirked an eyebrow, aiming for aloof. But his face was too readable now that their skins were touching all over and they were naked in so many ways, and Jim had just gotten too damn good at it. Spock was happy. Amused and delighted and proud and happy.
"I know you can do it, Spock."
"Very well."
He closed his eyes for a moment, a dark fan of eyelashes over his cheeks that made Jim's stomach clench in fierce vindication. How many people got to see Spock with his eyes closed like this?
And then the floodgates opened and Jim sucked in a sharp breath.
"Oh."
His vision blurred for a few moments while he tried very hard not to come from the overwhelming telepathic stimuli, and Spock didn't help one bit because he went back to his previously abandoned task of teasing Jim to death one-handed.
"S-Spock."
Spock was watching his fingers sink into Jim's body and out again with a level of fascination that would have made Jim extremely self-conscious if he were capable of it at this point, but he was too preoccupied with feeling what Spock was feeling. He could even catch moments of what Spock was thinking, snatches like: so tight, so warm, so very, very beautiful and ready for me, and elevated heart-rate, the sound of Jim's pulse frantic and demanding, and must do this well, do this right, must protect and please and must temper my strength, must not break Jim no matter how prettily he is asking for it without him even knowing...
But that was only part of it. Another part, the part that wasn't quite so rational right now, was barely coherent with lust. No words Jim recognized, some he thought might be Vulcan but didn't understand, and mostly dominated by a sort of roaring whirl of that hunger he'd let Jim feel before.
Jim arched his back again and clenched his abs with the effort of holding back.
"Are you waiting for my permission?" he groaned. He'd had enough with the talking. Enough with the foreplay, just fucking enough. He was on the edge of his control with the need to come, and the very razor's edge of his sanity with the thick mix of his and Spock's emotions, like syrup and honey, dense in the air between them. This was happening now.
But then there was a very suspicious silence, and he looked up at Spock's face (this took a couple of seconds because even trying to focus his vision felt like a substantial effort right now). The Vulcan's eyes were burning-coal black.
"Are you waiting for me to beg?"
His voice broke on that last word but Spock had cocked his head to the side and was regarding Jim with animal eyes.
"I won't," Jim growled, a warning. "I will not—"
Spock kept looking at him, still quiet, still with that considering gaze, all caged heat for now, and then he moved one finger just so and ripped this crying gasp from Jim's throat and the next thing Jim knew he was shoving his hips down angrily.
"Fine! Jesus, fuck, do it, please, just do it!"
Spock did.
He lifted Jim up bodily with just his two arms and there will be time for so much more, later, there will, I promise you they won't tear you away from me because it isn't possible, I promise you, but for now let me look, let me see sank into him, so big, so full, so much. Jim gasped raggedly and dug his nails into Spock's shoulders. Finally.
Finally, finally, finally.
He didn't realize he was whispering the words like a fevered prayer until Spock kissed him, and then started to move, every thrust punching a low sound from Jim. He wouldn't even need a hand on himself for this, Jim thought dazedly, wouldn't even need Spock to reach down and get him off, he'd come untouched. When they started to go faster and lost those last vestiges of control they gave up on kissing, panting into each other's mouths instead, and teeth clacked and thighs burned and then Spock's hips shot up and hit Jim just right so that he actually cried out. So Spock did it again, the exact same angle and as much strength, did it again and again, relentless and not letting up even a little and Jim felt it building inside them both, or perhaps more accurately rushing towards them like an impending tide, Spock's pale skin and kiss-swollen lips and strange and beautiful slanting eyebrows right in front of him, Spock in him, beside him and under him and over him and all around him because that was where he belonged.
The release tore though him in a blinding rush of stars.
Never had something felt so incredible; both his and Spock's thoughts a confusing whirl that while it lasted Jim couldn't distinguish where he ended and Spock began, his body one quivering mass of heat-waves crashing over and over and his brain this pleasure-clogged, impossibly good haze of dopamine and endorphins and amazingness. He opened his eyes to see Spock because he had to, even though his vision was patchy at best and his heart was a battering-ram to his ribs.
Spock's eyes were closed again, his face titled up toward Jim's, jaw slack and relaxed in a way Jim had never seen before, eyelashes clumped together with sweat and splotches of green color on his high cheekbones. He looked blissed out, and gorgeous, and Jim's.
Jim came down from the high slowly, gingerly almost, feeling like his bones were rubber and his blood was sparking with leftover energy, little shocky jolts making him shiver.
"Whoa," he managed, barely vocalizing. Even that was too much effort. His skin felt overly sensitive everywhere, in a way that hadn't happened before when he'd had sex with other people who weren't touch-telepaths. Anything that brushed against him made his muscles jump underneath, tingly and too much.
"I..."
Spock blinked his eyes open and stared up at him, for the first time looking like he was at a loss for words. The intensity of the shallow meld had faded somewhat and catching Spock's thoughts was impossible, but the general goodness and rightness between them was unshakable.
"You okay?" Jim asked gently.
Spock nodded. "Very."
Jim grinned at him and shifted a little, drawing his body's attention sudden and unmistakably back to the place where they were still joined. Spock tensed a little and held him closer so that their bare chests rested against one another and, curiously, so that Jim couldn't pull away just yet.
"You're very okay?" Jim teased.
The corner of Spock's mouth lifted. Jim's heart stopped.
"Very okay, Jim."
Jim wondered whether amongst his many allergies and medical conditions he'd actually been ignoring a lifelong severe asthma because he couldn't fucking breathe.
x
They never got around to the deep and meaningful 'what does this mean?' discussions about the potential bond. Instead, they slept.
The next day Jim woke with Spock curled up next to him and spent a full five minutes convinced that this was a dream, and last night had been a dream, too, and it was all just one too-good too-damn-real dream that was not true, because he was clearly dreaming.
Then it hit him.
"Spock," he whispered.
Spock's eyes opened immediately and Jim wondered whether he'd been faking sleep, but a moment after that the Vulcan blinked a little at him in confusion, and he realized it was just that Spock was, like, the lightest sleeper in history.
"Jim."
He stared at him for a very long moment, the lunged forward and kissed Jim, morning breath and all (oh who cared), immediately shifting so his body was a comfortable, if kinda heavy, weight on top of Jim's.
"I... m-morning," he managed to mumble against Spock's lips before Spock's tongue licked its way inside his mouth. Jim gave in for a couple of seconds and then pressed a hand to the center of Spock's toned chest and pushed, which was apparently the way to go when you wanted to talk to Spock but he wasn't listening because he was kissing you.
You learned new things every day (although this totally wasn't knowledge Jim would be sharing anytime soon, and by that he really meant he was never going to tell anyone ever because he wasn't planning on anyone needing to use it. ever).
"What time is it?"
"I estimate... around o' nine-hundred hours, thirty-two minutes and fifty seconds."
"Around fifty seconds?"
Spock pursed his lips.
"Not anymore."
Jim grinned and sat up in the too-small bed. They'd fallen asleep on top of the covers, gloriously naked.
Gloriously.
"We're supposed to be in court at ten-thirty for closing statements and the verdict is this evening."
"Yes."
They looked at each other; Spock still lying elegantly with his head on the pillow and Jim sitting, but with their legs tangled together.
"Be realistic, Captain."
Spock may well be naked, heavy-lidded still and with his hair looking less-than-pristine for once, but he was speaking in his I-am-being-a-serious-Starfleet-officer-now-Jim voice. It... sort of worked, somehow. Jim made a mental note to ask Spock how the hell he pulled that stuff off.
"Let's not," Jim said firmly. "Not until we know for sure, and even then there's appeals and stuff we can do, okay?"
"Very well."
A few hours ago Spock had said those exact words about something entirely different. Jim felt a light warm shiver of pleasure ripple through him, and let himself lie back down so that he was nose-to-nose with Spock again, breathing the same air. Breathing each other.
"We should probably talk about what this means and stuff," he said, softly, after a little pause.
Spock nodded. "Yes, but there is no time now."
"Right. Yeah. We should get dressed and then, you know. Go."
"Indeed. I must return to my quarters."
They were both still, quite, quite naked.
Jim wondered whether offering Spock a crash course on blow-jobs by giving him one in the shower would be a bit much. Spock had a thing about punctuality. And being late to your own last day in court was possibly one of the worst ideas ever.
It would have to be a very quick blow-job, then-
"It would be helpful if you were to consider these thoughts in a few minutes after we are in separate rooms and I have had a chance to meditate and rebuild my mental shields, Captain. As well as avoiding them while we are touching in public, as a general rule."
Jim didn't even have the decency to blush; instead he grinned and stretched languorously in the cramped space (which happened to make him rub against Spock in all manner of interesting places, not that he'd done that on purpose, of course).
"You're free to meditate while I get soaking wet and all, but I'm going to take a wild guess and say this is the first time you've slept a full night in ages."
Spock's jaw was clenched stiffly and he looked rather exasperated.
"You are right, and you are also not helping."
"Sorry," Jim said sheepishly.
Spock gave him a feather-light kiss on the temple, and Jim considered the fact that while the intimacy thing was totally new, he was actually sort of used to being this close to the man because, even way before, even unconsciously, he'd always stood too close to Spock. He reached out slowly to trace the tip of one of Spock's ears carefully with the pad of his index finger and felt his whole body hum with satisfaction, as though he was softening around the edges for as long as they touched.
Spock looked back at him, intent but quiet, and perfectly still.
"I..." Jim began, then stopped. Then tried again. "I, uh." But words... words like these, he wasn't good at. Give him an evil villain and he could twist words around until the guy believed Jim had an all-powerful weapon in his ship that could destroy half a planet. Give him a pretty girl, a pretty boy, and he could charm his way into his or her pants without so much as breaking a sweat (... actually, that was a poor choice of words). As long as things stayed on the surface, Jim was the master.
"Look, clearly I suck at this," he said finally, a bit shakily. "Just... gimme."
He took Spock's hand and pressed it to his temple, and closed his eyes.
I didn't know this before, he thought. He could feel how Spock's mind was there but it wasn't intrusive, just a light touch, a light presence. More similar to the second meld. I've had better years and worse years and there's been a couple I'd just rather forget entirely, but life sort of taught me to be weary of things that feel... easy. Things aren't... things in my life have always been kind of hard.
Tarsus IV, long days alone at his computer looking up how things flew in space where there was no air, Sam leaving, momma crying and saying 'I don't know' when Jimmy asked her why, his nineteenth birthday, being twelve and driving driving driving until the cliff was the horizon and the drop was the end of the world and everything bad would just go away-
'Weary' was kind of an understatement, in fact, but. Anyway, some stuff sucked and some stuff wasn't so bad but my point is that I have issues and all that crap, and I thought the whole soulmate, only-one-for-me thing was roughly equivalent to Santa.
Bitterness and scorn and contempt and total indifference to the concept, contradicting feelings all resulting in a 'that is so weird' response to those three words.
But apparently sometimes, just sometimes, too much of a good thing is a great thing. And I love you.
A new feeling. It's dangerously similar to hope, but it cannot be ignored.
I figure whatever happens today, you should know that.
When he opened his eyes Spock was staring at him, a little bit aghast.
"Wow, I didn't know you could look like that," Jim said with a cheeky grin. It barely faltered, too.
"Like... what?" Spock croaked, carefully taking back his hand and tucking it in the little space between them.
"Nothing." Jim felt himself flush, and suddenly couldn't meet Spock's eyes. Which was stupid, because they'd totally had sex last night. "Sorry, we should totally go or we'll be late!"
He rolled away and stood up, ignoring those pesky emotion thingamajigs and instead relishing the ache this action caused. Yes, of course he was sore, but he felt better in his own skin than he had in a very long time. That feeling he'd gotten two days ago, when he realized Spock wanted him back, like something inside him had slid into place, was stronger than ever.
"And I may not have an antique tub but this sonic has a water setting and you're welcome to join me anytime," he tossed over his shoulder lightly. His face still felt a bit hot (Spock had the capacity to make him blush. how hilarious was that?).
"I shall be meditating in my quarters," Spock called after him.
"Okay. I'll wait for you in here, okay? We can go together. If you want, I mean."
He heard the rustle of messy sheets and the footsteps and stopped, but didn't turn around.
Spock nearly picked him up off the floor when he crashed into Jim, he held him so tight. They were both perfectly silent, Spock panting hotly against the back of Jim's neck and making his whole body tingle and wake up.
Then he stepped back.
"That would be acceptable."
Jim did turn around then and extended two fingers to give Spock a Vulcan kiss, which Spock reciprocated, only he did so while giving Jim a Human one, all lazy tongue and soft slick perfection.
"Okay. We really shouldn't be late," Jim said when Spock pulled away, both of them breathing with a little difficulty. He considered adding something like 'well, if this was the only night we got, I'm glad it ended this way,' but it wouldn't really be true. He was pretty sure they were bonded now, or something close to it, and putting time and distance between them would kill his mind with the pain.
Not to mention what it would do to his heart.
x
Oh, and one other thing.
James T. Kirk was not okay with admitting defeat before the verdict was out. In this case, literally.
x
Closing arguments were considered incredibly important to the judicial process. Both the defense and the prosecution were supposed to give a concise argument before the judge and jury as a sort of summation of the evidence and events of the trial, without being allowed to introduce new aspects about the case.
Nathaniel Moss worked alone as a Starfleet attorney and didn't have a second chair, so he did the entire closing argument himself.
Areel Shaw did have a second chair, and a third (the man and woman Jim had seen with her before) but she, too, chose to give the whole speech.
It was probably a bit much to say that it ranked as one of the worst hours of Jim's life, but it came pretty fucking close.
Traditionally, the prosecution went first.
"... have been very lucky so far." She walked with her arms neatly folded, and the red uniform she wore hugged her body comfortably, made her look professional and intelligent. But nothing she wore or did to her short hair could erase how young she was, Jim thought grimly. And if that could serve them in any way, well, every little helped.
"This list provides enough examples that we have reviewed already, such as the incidents at Pirita II, Haden IV or the Fereni Moon. Both officers repeatedly infringed section 6.2. On multiple occasions the designated commanding officer was either unclear or the Chief Engineer Mr Scott, who, while undoubtedly qualified, has not been trained for command. On more than one occasion Doctor McCoy, Mr Scott and Mr Sulu were off-planet and then eighteen-year-old Pavel Chekov had the conn. The conn of the Starship USS Enterprise, Federation flagship," she added. Jim did not like the way she said this. Chekov's brain could cartwheel around Areel Shaw's, and Scotty was perfectly capable of minding the store while Jim and Spock were on-planet.
"It is true that not every one of them is a protocol violation; on Tersal II it was with less then two seconds' margin but Captain Kirk did not, technically, breach any regulations that would warrant a Court Martial had this been an isolated incident. Of course, we all know this was anything but a single occasion." Areel glanced at Moss with contempt. "No crew-members have died because of it, the defense argues."
She paused dramatically, eyes narrowed and indignant.
"No crew-members have died yet."
A woman in the jury (who, by the way, looked surprisingly good for her age) frowned slightly, but Jim couldn't tell if it was in annoyance or because she agreed with Areel's words.
"If that is supposed to be an argument in favor of Captain Kirk and Commander Spock, then it is an incredibly poor one. Luck has saved them so far, yes, and what happens when that luck runs out? Are we supposed to wait around for a serious incident that costs lives? Nobody's talking about charging these two decorated heroes with accidental manslaughter or reckless endangerment because no crew-members have died yet. Instead we move in favor of a transfer. A simple transfer."
Simple. Jim clenched his hand into a fist. There was nothing simple about a transfer ordained per court martial that would go on both their permanent records.
"All the signs lead to emotional compromise, and Starfleet Command has charged these officers with it for a reason. Commander Spock was forced to confess that he does see his Captain as more than a friend. More than that, he confessed to loving the Captain as one does a partner."
Spock's eyes were flinty-black and his face impassive, as Jim had expected. But he still seethed with the urge to punch Areel in the face for saying these things to the whole room.
"Changing this situation seems an obvious necessity if we are to prevent more incidents. The prosecution rests."
She walked calmly to her seat and Moss stood up next.
"Out of the cases on the so-called Evidence List there are only two that Starfleet Command considered 'failed' in their objective. We have repeatedly proven the success rate of this Captain and his command team is unmatched and while, granted, he is not as experienced as some veterans, there is a reason why James Tiberius Kirk is the youngest Captain in history. Give him time to prove himself, to gain that experience, and he will rise to even further heights of greatness."
Jim rubbed the back of his neck and ducked his head. Heroically.
"Commander Spock's record is spotless, and aside from Captain Kirk, he has served under Admiral Pike back when he was Captain. Coincidentally, the Admiral declared himself against this trial and its entire implication in a recent interview with Universal News-"
"Objection, evidence not presented during the trial," Areel called immediately.
"Sustained," Emerett said.
"My apologies. But focusing on little-picture bureaucratic details is an incredibly easy way of ignoring the bigger picture. And the fact that we have been able to perfectly explain why these circumstances occurred every time it was asked seems relevant to note as well, does it not? There is no overall pattern of mistakes; simply a lot of missions in a list that has been nitpicked and examined for the sole purpose of painting two Starfleet officers into a very particular shade of a certain light."
Moss pushed his glasses up his nose and continued.
"There is no regulation stating Commander Spock was not allowed to accompany Captain Kirk on 'away missions.' With Commander Spock being the most qualified officer for field scientific research, it would, in fact, seem to be the logical option."
A couple of people of the jury smiled at that. Logic among Vulcans was a well-known topic.
"As to 'luck,' I am astounded by the amount of 'luck' these two officers would seem to have, then. To boast a ninety-two percent success rate with their alleged state of emotional compromise it seems that they would need an extraordinary amount of luck, would it not?" The irony dropped from his tone. "Let's be serious, please. It can't be a coincidence. The odds are astronomical for it to have to be a coincidence every time things go right. These are intelligent men. Brave men. Efficient and hard-working men, who have time and time again proven their belief in the Federation's ideals."
Jim wasn't so sure about the Federation's ideals part but he could see what Moss was trying to do.
"Now."
He turned to Spock and Kirk for a moment, face set.
"Commander Spock's 'confession.'"
The silence in the courtroom became ten times more deliberate.
"Prying into an officer's private life when there is no relevance to the case at hand is more than an insult, it's illegal. Forcing a Vulcan to disclose his emotions..." Moss paused, as though the thought was too horrifying to contemplate. "...well. As if Mr Spock's people haven't had to suffer enough these past few years, he was interrogated in front of Captain Kirk."
Another pause, this time to let the information sink in. A couple of mutterings in the crowd behind them told Jim it had had the desired effect.
"Obviously the Commander is a professional, and he endured it stoically, yes, but we must not forget ourselves. And his answer changed nothing. Accusing a Vulcan of succumbing to his emotions-his answer changed nothing." Geez, even the self-correction thingy had been on purpose, Jim was sure of it. "And not only is an undisclosed relationship not among the charges, but Captain Kirk already declared via Veritas that he does not reciprocate the sentiment."
The urge to grab Spock's hand and kiss it had never been so strong. Jim grit his teeth.
"And the best part is that even if these two men were to enter a relationship..."
Jim's eyes snapped up to the lawyer. What? They had never talked about this with Moss, never discussed this angle. What the hell was he doing?
"...it still wouldn't affect their results, their missions, or their work life, since, while unofficially frowned upon, relationships between crew-members are not in any way forbidden as long as they have been disclosed. We do not go to trial or court martial our officers for things that are unofficially frowned upon, I think. I'm pretty sure."
Another ripple of amusement in the crowd. The jury members' poker faces, however, were rather impressively effective. Maybe they had gotten tips from Spock.
"The sanction that accompanies a forced transfer would permanently mark two pristine records that simply do not deserve it. Furthermore, the pair's successes have been a direct result of their working together, and it would be negligent of us to attempt to separate them.
"Every mission is different and when you have a team of Starfleet officers seeking out new lifeforms and new civilizations, predicting which regulations must be implemented to face extraordinary, never-before-seen situations becomes nigh impossible. Therefore, we the defense move for a dismissal of all charges, since negligence is the last thing these men can be accused of, and wanton misconduct is no more than an appalling slight to their tireless dedication and service."
He gave one last, final nod, as though satisfied that his point had gotten through, and turned back to their desk.
"The defense rests."
x
"Moss was fantastic," Uhura said, respect clear in her voice.
"I agree." This was Sulu, from the other end of the table. They were in one of the larger mess halls and it was crowded and noisy as usual, and Jim could remember with perfect clarity the day he'd stumbled inside covered in grease and Spock had broken a freakin' chair. "And you two haven't been keeping track of the nets, but we have. Support is almost totally yours, guys, I promise."
There were nods all around, and then McCoy put a heavy hand on Jim's shoulder.
Jim winced a little and shifted in his seat uncomfortably, last night's activities a very fresh memory. The look in Spock's eyes when he caught this movement was eerily similar to the one he'd had when he saw Jim wearing his uniform, but Jim was trying hard not to think about that too much.
"There are some things I wish I didn't know about you, James Tiberius Kirk, but you're my friend." McCoy's voice was thick with emotion... a bit too overdone, and Jim cringed, because he knew what was coming next. "My best friend, a fine-looking young Captain... and dammit, Jim, that article on Starstruck Tonight had us all damn near in tears."
The article was called 'A Forbidden Cosmic Love' and it was an extremely... colorful account of their torrid love-affair (which had, according to the reporter, been going on for over a year now) that was going around the Starbase's intra-departmental instant-message comms at frighteningly close to warp speed.
There was a chorus of laughs and catcalls from the others at its mention (as there had been every five minutes), with the notable exceptions of Jim, who rolled his eyes and grinned, and Spock, who looked at Jim and smiled with his eyes.
"Are we ever going to hear the end of that?"
"No way!" Chekov said, still laughing. "It was wery romantic!"
Only McCoy and Uhura knew the truth about what was really going on between Jim and Spock, though, and even then all they knew was what Jim had implied yesterday before Spock's testimony. But much as it pained Jim to keep it from the rest of his friends, he and Spock had silently agreed that for now it was the best thing to do.
"You've got friends in Engineering here, Captain, I told ye," Mr Scott said, nodding.
"And the command staff!"
"And the pilots, Keptin!"
"The science department too, of course, Mr Spock!"
"People can tell what's really goin' on, what with the bureaucracy an' all... this was an exercise to scare you, no more than that," Scotty said. "Show you who has the power, maybe? Either way, after today it will be over."
No one seemed to be doubting that they could very well lose.
Jim looked around the friendly faces, the encouraging gestures... yes, seemed was the key word here. He knew he had their support, for better or worse, and they were trying to show him that in their own way, everyone pretending victory was in close reach. But nothing had been won yet, and they had everything to lose.
"I appreciate this, you guys," Jim said, seriously. He glanced at Spock. "We both do."
Nurse Chapel smiled widely from beside Uhura. "We're only inviting you to lunch, Captain, try to sound less choked up about it!"
Uhura grinned at her. "Who said anything about inviting them to lunch, Christine?"
"I thought that was the consensus!"
"I don't think I got any credits on me, lass!"
"Come on, I am quite sure we can out of all of us together-"
"Since when do we pay for lunch at a Starfleet facility?"
Jim's eyes met Spock's opposite him over the table and he smiled again. He knew that in an hour there was a chance that he'd regret not spending this time alone with Spock, but doubted it.
His crew, his ship, and his First Officer. He loved them all.
And he was planning on getting to keep them all, too.
AN ACTUAL SEX SCENE AND NO CLIFFIE? WHAT IS THIS MADNESS, PROBLEM?
*giggles*
I feel rather proud of myself for it, okay?
Also, there are only two chapters + the epilogue left. Um. WOW.
ALSO, you guys have been incredible with the support and the waiting SO patiently! Thanks again for your AWESOMESAUCE...NESS! :D