[The Dream] -- [TOS!Spock and Kirk]
[OOC: This occurs the night Kirk beamed down to Risa. We decided to stick to a single name for Kirk here because it got confusing otherwise.]
When he opened his eyes, the first thing that came into focus was the sun. It was a brilliant orange overhead, large and dominating the sky. It seemed to be burning the sky, turning it into the bright crimson of the sunset, yet it was still too high for sunset. He blinked slowly, then dragged his gaze away from its brilliance to look around slowly. He could see strange upthrusts of rock that came out of the ground at a bizarre angle, heavily layered and pointed. The world seemed dusted in tan and umber, sort of like the visit to Death Valley he had taken during the years at the Academy. Yet there was no feeling of heat, no sense of pressure... just... existence.
"James?" It was almost a sound of surprise. Spock sat leaning against a balcony wall in his customary posture for mediation. James looked over in some surprise as well, blinking owlishly for a moment. He focused on the older Spock, then around them. From the look of it, it was a balcony, tucked up against a home possibly. There was a functional glass door dividing balcony and home but there were gauzy curtains blocking his view within. The rest of the balcony was settled with chairs of various sorts, looking everything from a torture device to comfortable. There was a pile of wood and a beautiful screen with some sort of strange looking climbing flower going up it.
He looked back to Spock, giving another blink. "...Spock?" Obviously confused. He slowly walked over to the Vulcan, expecting the world to waver or go slow or something, but it felt... oddly normal.
Spock blinked up at James. "When I requested a meeting, James, I did not necessarily intend it take place here." He stood to meet the human, palm upright, fingers in position for the traditional greeting. "Live long and prosper, James."
The world stayed solid. Nothing wavered, nothing slowed, so when Spock gestured the the chairs, obviously intending that they should sit, James picked the least uncomfortable looking chair and sat.
The chair wasn't as comfortable as it looked. Somehow, James wasn't particular surprised.
"...Um, live long and prosper?" It took only a second for James to figure out his fingers and match the salute. "Where the hell are we?"
"This is my home. My family home on Vulcan, where I was raised and where I return when I visit." Spock had chosen one of the torture-ish looking chairs and it fit his straight and upright posture perfectly. The sun would be setting soon, which was why he had come here, to watch and to meditate.
"...Spock..." Another look around before saying bluntly, "How the hell am I sitting in your home?" Because it was, well, impossible.
Spock looked around as well. All was as it should be. There was nothing obviously out of place as there was in so many of his dreams. No echoing laughter without a source, no broken rocks streaming life-giving water into the sands like blood spilled in battle. "I am not sure, James."
"...did I die?" Came the next words out of James' mouth, because honestly it was the only thing that made sense. "Vulcan's gone. I sure as hell have never been here and I sure as hell have never seen anything like this before." He paused, looked up at the sun for a moment, "Shouldn't it be, I dunno, hot?"
The question was valid. Spock cast back for his memories. Before coming here he was on the Enterprise. He had returned to his rooms after visiting the brig, to rest before joining his t'hy'lara on Risa. No explosion, no physical violence. It was possible that something had been done to him but - Spock monitored his body systems - everything seemed to be in order. So, he was not dead. And if he was not dead, logic dictated that James was not dead either. "You have not, as nearly as I can ascertain in our present situation, died. Nor have I. However, the temperature is as it always is at this time of day." Spock basked in it for a moment. He was always cold on the Enterprise, either one of them. Another reason to invite the young Vulcan first officer to share sleep with them again.
"You are taking this way too calmly." James murmured, shaking his head. He tried to get comfortable and had to settle it as a bad job. He propped his elbow on the armrest of the chair and his chin in his palm. He glanced towards the Vulcan, then said, "I have no idea how I got here. Feels... surprisingly normal though." He closed his eyes, frowning a little. He ran through his last memories, "The hell... I remember curling up with Bones after-" After the best night of sex in his life. Slow, deep, perfect. "Um, after a long day and going to sleep. Then I wake up on Vulcan."
"There is some logic in supposing it is a dream. Though," Spock's brows drew closer together, a thinking expression, "I am unsure if you are the dream or if I am. Or what the purpose of such a dream would be."
Sure as hell am not a dream. James thought to himself, opening his eyes. "This is just what I need after today. After this whole week." He grumbled. He had thought he had gotten away from crazy when he'd finally gotten down to the surface of Risa.
Most illogical. Spock had intended to speak with the captain but this was very odd. He looked around again, confirming. The balcony of his father's home. His father's home. "James, this is not the Vulcan of your universe. Have you seen its like before?" The beginnings of a working hypothesis were forming but he needed more data.
"No, of course n--" James stopped dead, then looked around as if for the first time. Then, very hesitantly, "...yea, I have. Just... flickers of it, though. Nothing this... solid." In his dreams, in his waking hours. The memories... That made him shift, "The memories. Prime's memories. I've seen this same place there... but had no idea what it was." It was his home...
"My favorite place. It is good that I remembered it." For a moment, looking at him, James was reminded that this man is trapped in an alternate reality where his home not only doesn't exist but was destroyed by a madman who wanted to hurt Spock as deeply as possible. Spock tilted his head and the slight case of his eyes that translated as homesickness was gone. "So, this place exists in both of our minds. I had need of speaking to you. Was there reason for you to speak to me?"
"I... I don't know?" James answered honestly, looking off into the distance for a moment. Then, quietly, "I guess there's something I wanted to talk to you about, but I'm not sure I can."
"If there is anywhere you may speak to me without reservation," Spock gestures at the dreamscape, "James, I believe this would be it."
Well, why the fuck not? He was just dreaming anyway. This had to be a dream. "...Spock went down against my orders and interrogated that bastard in the brig. Pike... did something to him." James' fingers tightened against one another. "Spock melded with him."
"I am aware of this. It is related to the subject I wished to discuss with you." Spock folded his hands together, a familiar gesture in any universe. "Though it is perhaps more accurate to say that Spock - " Spock interrupted himself. "How much do you know or understand of Vulcans and the function of melding or bonding?"
"...Um, bluntly? Exactly nothing except getting my own head ripped open by it." James shrugged a little. "Not a damn thing. I mean I've felt stuff from it, but I really don't know anything about it."
Spock actually winced at that. "Another topic we should discuss." He closed his eyes for a moment, more expressive in this dream than James had ever seen him, even in the grip of the pon farr. "The Vulcan word is kae'at k'lasa. It is the oldest crime." He looked at James again, dark eyes unfathomable. "Your Spock has been injured."
That made James sit up sharply, looking fully to Spock. "Wait, what crime? And... well, injured?" His eyes narrowed, "You mean something other then when Pher attacked him. How's he injured?"
It was a private thing, not discussed with non-Vulcans. Yet, Spock found himself thinking again, there were so few Vulcans left. And if this understanding made the relationship between these two men, James and young Spock.... "It is... a violation." It was still difficult to speak of it. The image rose in his mind again, the Admiral Pike from that Mirror universe, more dangerous than the Mirror Kirk Spock had dealt with, a savage in a land of civilized beings. This Pike had a mask and he had control of that mask, showing many things to many people. His own Captain Pike had some of that same quality - responding to the needs of those around him, using it in their service. It inspired loyalty, perhaps even foolish loyalty, though that situation had resolved itself satisfactorily. The image rose in his mind again, the Admiral Pike from that Mirror universe, forcing control of the meld, exploiting the pain already felt by a mind that was missing the stars to guide it, left with only a hollow, whistling and empty plain.
"I have bonded with my mates. They are my t'hy'lara, the other pieces of my self. Yet there are other bonds. The bonds of family - each parent bound to their child at the first spark of life, prior even to true consciousness. The bonds of friendship. Each to each, Vulcans are bound one to another, under the same expanse of sky."
A violation.
"He pulled me into a memory of himself and my mirror counterpart."
"...What memory, Spock?"
"Sexual relations."
"...You're telling me... you're... are you suggesting that Spock was... raped?" James said with a slowly growing fear that that was exactly what the older Vulcan was trying to tell him, remembering well the conversation he had had with the younger Spock.
Spock looked slightly ill, could not make eye contact for this. "He will not speak of it to you. And I will not betray his confidence with details. Yet any physical action is secondary to kae'at k'lasa. Your Spock attempted to meld with this Pike but was already injured and his control wrested from him." He stared into the long distance for a moment, the empty flatness of the desert beyond the balcony reflected. "You are a man who loves your freedom, James. Can you think on your freedom taken from you, at its source? Your will, your identity, your... what you consider to be your soul?" He had begun the healing process, but he did not know the extent to which young Spock's mind had already damaged itself, neural pathways attempting to circumvent the trauma while weakened by the endless solitude of Spock's empty mind full of weeping, broken bonds.
James' eyes went wide at that description, his fingers gripping tightly to the chair he sat in. "That... that is what... happened between them?" He breathed out, almost ready to shout out that it had to be a lie. I was right. Spock was raped, through his mind. Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He left out a shaking breath. "I don't understand. Why... why the fuck would he insist... he asked me to let him go back down there, Spock. He asked me to go be able to interrogate him again." I let him. I let him go down there even though I started to guess... what the fuck is wrong with me?! I could have stopped all of this... I let him go back down there! FUCK. He snarled at himself and looked away. "Fuck."
Spock looked back at him, steady now. This he could answer. "It seemed the logical option. You wished to know if he thought you a worthy captain - he fears you but he endangers himself in your service because it seemed the most efficient path to your goal." Now he was the same Spock he was last night, the Spock in search of an answer, all prying, insistent, logical mind. "We spoke of the damage caused by the destruction of Vulcan. I believe I did not lead you to properly understand that magnitude of that suffering." Young James did not know enough. Did he comprehend the kae'at k'lasa and the punishment he desired to mete out, for all he controlled himself?
That just pulled up confusion in James. "...Fears me?" He could remember those flickers - in his office, in his quarter - but he didn't understand them. Not fully, because Spock would never fully come clean with him about anything. "Spock, I don't understand it. Why is he afraid of me? I keep trying to, you know, extend the olive branch as it were but... he just turns around and burns anything I give him." He slid a hand over his face, sighing slowly. "...the damage. You mean... all that stuff about the bonds, all the Vulcans together, right?"
"He lost his sky, James." Spock's face was grave. "I have shared mine with him and he will not be alone. There is too much between you to make you part of this healing yet but perhaps in the future." He sighed. "In the beginning, Vulcan was a place of savage warfare. Cities grew and were destroyed at the whim of emotion, by the tide of anger. It was not until the coming of Surak, who taught peace offered once, and then again, and still again that we turned from this path of death. Embracing logic and reason, casting out emotion - it was the salvation of our planet and our people."
The whole thing made James blink in confusion, "Wait, wait, wait." Trying to wrap his head around a history he had never heard before. "Who is Surak? And..." He thought about Spock's words again, then said cautiously, "You know, it sort of sounds like Vulcans were a lot closer to how humans acted only a few thousand years ago." Before the Federation.
"Surak is the father of our logic. He is considered to be the greatest of our ancestors. It was his philosophy that prevented our destruction." Spock considered what he knew of Earth's tumultuous history. "There are many remarkable similarities between the Vulcan of Surak's time and aspects of your human past. Perhaps it is the challenge that faces any planet before they may grow beyond the boundaries of their homeworld."
"Well, what does this Surak guy have to do with Spock?" James asked, because honestly two and two wasn't equaling four in his mind.
"You have stated you know nothing of Vulcan or its culture. But you must if you desire an understanding of... any of us. Our way of life is founded in Surak's philosophy and we walk this path because to do otherwise leads to destruction." Spock had the air of a history professor. He would have made a good teacher. "Each Vulcan knows this. Your Spock knows this."
James just couldn't help the faint snort that left him, "And Surak's philosophy is all about logic. Being logical and all that and... pretending you guys don't have any emotions." Which he knew was bullshit. He had felt those emotions from every version of Spock, blazing bright hot and freezing cold.
Spock gazed at James, faint disapproval hovering at the corners of his eyes. "Surak's philosophy is a way of peace and reason that cools the hot spill of anger, greed, resentment. It is a path of self-control, self-restraint. The highest discipline is the purging of all emotion." He looked away, thoughtful. "I had considered such a thing. The course to Kohlinahr."
"I think personally it seems a whole lot more like it's the bottlecap on a shaken soda. Soon as someone nudges at the cap enough, it'll explode." James leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. "Koh... what did you just call it? You're telling me that Vulcans try to get rid of all emotions?" The idea sounded like a form of death, in his opinion.
"Vulcans are not... soda, James." Spock continued to look over the balcony, toward the horizon. Was the sun moving at all? Did time function in this dream or was it still? He had wanted to watch the sky change. "The Kohlinar is the purging of the vestigal emotions, to achieve a state of pure reason. It is, I am given to understand, very peaceful."
"...Sounds fucking boring." James snorted, silently thinking Vulcans are totally soda. "Like being a computer. You might get rid of anger, sadness, and all those shitty things, but the last thing I'd want to do is give up joy, rapture, love." Barely even know what this Kohlinar is and I already fucking hate it. Spock's not a computer.
I can hear you, James. Vulcans are neither soda nor computers. Spock's eyes were stern as he sent the thought to James. An unruly mind. "You perhaps would find it boring. That concept is foreign to me. I have since reconsidered my decision, in light of recent events." Spock's whole body changed, seemed lifted somehow, when he thought of his bondmates.
"You can hear me!?" James' eyes went huge at that, and his thoughts, of course, immediately rampaged through things like what the fuck get out of my head I am supposed to be alone in here shit he can hear this I've gotta stop thinking about anything! "And damn well you should reconsider it, because you'd break Jim and Bones' hearts."
This is not a normal occurence. Perhaps it is a side effect of this dream. And I can not hear everything. Nor would I seek to in our waking existence. "I doubt they would understand the Kohlinahr any better than yourself. Perhaps in the far future." James did not have to read his thoughts to know the Vulcan was thinking of the eventual deaths of his mates.
"..." James was silent, mouth and mind, for several long moments. Then he said quietly, "I felt that. Prime's... memories. The memory he had in his mind, fresh because he was looking right at a dead man, of the day Jim Kirk died." Another few moments before, even softer, "...I think I'd just kill myself rather then live with that pain. I give a lot of credit to him for holding on, and feel like shit that I caused him to feel it all over again."
"The extent of the transference from my older self troubles me, James. There is much that you carry. Life, however, is always precious."
"You have no idea what's all in here." James tapped his temple lightly. "And I don't either. It's like... living two lives at the same time, sometimes. I look at something, a situation, and suddenly? There's thoughts about that subject that I know I wouldn't think. Not always but, sometimes. Usually something to do with me, or the people closest to me, or this ship. But sometimes, it's not even in fucking Standard! You," He looked pointedly at Spock, "Think in Yakana. Something I don't know enough of to converse with a five year old Vulcan. It ends up with me getting a headache."
"While I know of your discomfort with the mind meld that would allow me to most easily aid you, I again extend my offer of instruction." He would persist in this - without such intervention, James would suffer. "It is true, I have no reason to think in Standard."
Considering how much the first mind meld of his life had played with his head, and how downright fucking weird the second one had been, Jim Kirk had no particular love of them. They all seemed weird, disturbing, and in the end, painful. James shifted in his seat, not looking particular sure about it. "...What exactly would you do?"
In this setting especially, James' discomfort with the mind meld was evident. Spock filed the thought away for later examination. "I have no desire to invade your mind, James. But should you wish to control these memories, I have techniques and practices that would aid you."
"...Give me some time to think about it, okay?" James finally asked after some silence. He was staring off into the distance of a planet he had never even been to, but it felt like home. "Look, Spock." That bright blue gaze moved back to the Vulcan in front of him. "Is there anything I can do? To help him? He's... well, he's my first officer. Might be all we share right now, but its something. I want him to be okay."
"Of course, James." But the true reason he had wished to speak with James.... He would wait until they were both awake. This dream space was not the time to speak of his trip to the brig. Instead, a basic thing. "Do not ask him to face the man you call Pher. Not directly or through implication that it would be to your aid, even if such might be the case. This man has a strong hand for manipulation of one so in solitude as Spock. And..." Spock touched the bruise high on his own cheek, "please do not strike him again. It is most unpleasant."
That had James out of his chair and across the way faster then he could have thought, his fingers delicate as they brushed the bruise. "...He hit you?!" Whispered, anger bubbling up. "What the fuck..." He shook his head, sagging a little, "Fuck Spock, now that I have some clue as to what really happened down there, you think I'm gonna let him go back down there!? Not with a phaser at my back would I."
But that, of course, brought a whole new problem. James wet his lips, then whispered quietly, "...Guess I don't really have choice then, do I? I can't leave Pher in the brig, and I can't turn a man over to Starfleet that doesn't really exist because he'll be in the same situation." I'm going to have to kill him.
The brush of fingers on his cheek made Spock blink. His body systems had begun to repair the slight damage and already the green bruise was not as livid as it had been that morning. "I provoked him to such action. It was the logical thing to do, on his part, at the time. I did not injure him." He studied James. "My own Jim would not allow it. Yet you are different in many ways and, I required confirmation. It is... important." The movement of James' tongue over dry human lips catch his attention. "I would also advise caution on your part in dealing with the criminal Pher. I have more to share but it would, perhaps, be more suited to another setting." The light was shifting, the sun finally setting and Spock looked off at the sand changing from red, to molten pink and orange, to a cool slate blue-green-grey.
"...No more dealing with him." Spoken quietly, unhappily. "Until now, I thought he was just... who he was. But this? What he did... is too much. He isn't meant to stay in this universe, and we can't send him home... I'll have it dealt with before the crew comes back from shore leave."
"James, it is important that you speak with me, in your waking hours, before taking such an action. All life is precious. And the change such an action would bring to you... there are many factors to weigh and measure."
"Do you think I'm taking this lightly!?" James snapped, his eyes narrowing as he stepped back slightly. "That I just wanna off the guy for my own enjoyment?! I've been thinking about this since the bastard stepped onto my ship!"
So quick to defensive anger. "I am not questioning your judgment or capability to make such a decision, James. I merely advise you that there is information of which you are unaware. It is possible it shall not sway you but one cannot know until the facts are shared."
"...." James turned away, glaring off into the cooling night. It was beautiful, the way the land changed, but it felt small compared to the confused feelings inside of him. He walked over to the edge of the balcony and leaned over the edge, propping up his arms on the stone ledge. Why were all these Spocks defending a rapist?
Spock watched the young man struggle with his thoughts. He stood and followed James to the railing. "At night you will see the wild creatures. The temperature drops but still, the desert is a dangerous place. There is not time enough to forget the blood spilled for these shifting sands."
The night sounds were beginning. "We are not human, James. Our way is very different."
"...It's a way I don't understand, but know more about then most people." James said in the softest tone, a tone he rarely if ever used in waking. "...Plots of a book that when the page is turned, the information is missing. No context, no background. I want to understand, so I can understand Spock. He's the one that chose to come back to the ship when he could have gone to the colony with Prime. I don't understand why, and I hate that. Why would he want to be around a bunch of illogical humans that just seem to piss him off, hurt him, or confuse him every day?"
"Consider what I have told you." The Vulcan continued to stare out over the desert, keen eyes seeking something. "Our way of logic was not casually chosen. It preserved us. But Vulcan society is... slow to change and the life of a hybrid shall always be...." He trailed off. There had been a time when he despised Vulcan, felt caged like a wild animal whenever he walked the wide, straight boulevards that connected the city in a grid.
He caught sight, finally, and gesture for James to look. "Moonrise."
It was beautiful to watch, honestly, yet achingly familiar. The slow drift of the fat bauble of the moon as it came up over unfamiliar/familiar peaks of mountains in the distance and the points of stone. For a moment, James closed his eyes as he breathed in the scent of the desert, the slight cooling of the night air, and felt the heat of the Vulcan beside him. "...I wish I could have seen it, when it was whole." He whispered quietly, "But this... is a good second."
His eyes opened again, looking to Spock. "Did you ever doubt yourself like this, Spock? Like he is?" Then, a blink. He shifted to look to Spock and spoke quietly, "...We're not Vulcans, not by a long shot... but this crew wants him here. A part of us, ya know?" He hesitated, then smiled softly. It was an expression rarely seen, his feelings flowing here in a way they might not having when he was awake and conscious, "We want to be part of his sky."
The air was cooling rapidly now, the desert abandoning its hold on the heat. The sands themselves would still be warm to bare feet but on the balcony Spock shifted closer to the man beside him, offering his own body heat as a shield on this alien world. "There was a time. It is... difficult to be among humans. And it is difficult to be so different on ones homeworld. There is nowhere, it would seem, to simply be Spock. Yet, I have made such a place for myself." His Enterprise, his bondmates, his own life.
"I want him to have a place on this ship." James said, frowning slightly, "I just... need him to realize it, I think. To realize he's wanted and needed and that even if there's no Vulcan, he isn't alone. And that one stupid captain wants him as a friend, dammit. Or at least for us to get along, even if our personalities clash."
"I believe he will come to this conclusion. The evidence will present it as the only logical option."
"Before or after another strangling?"
"I do not believe such a thing will occur again. Though I would suggest...if he wanted you dead, James, you already would be. The healing will take time but he will recover."
"...Good. My throat is thankful." He remarked dryly. James shifted, pressing the side of his body against Spock. The change in temperature felt oddly drastic. He blinked, leaning out over the railing more as he saw something moving in the distance. In the moonlight, all he could catch was the outline of something feline shaped.
Spock saw it as well. "Step back from the edge, James. You are not prepared for the desert of Vulcan, particularly at night."
"Huh?" A tilt of his head back, and James blinked. He hadn't even realized how far he was leaning forward. "Sorry." He grinned, nudging Spock lightly. "Gonna keep me warm then?"
Spock's form, solid and immovable, did not bump back into James but he didn't move away. For a Vulcan, this was a significant response. "It is true that my body temperature is higher than your own."
"That's why I suggested it." James, obviously, could not hide his flirting ways even in his dreams.
"This is an odd sort of dream." But Spock turned slightly away from the rail, more toward James, as clear an invitation as James had ever seen.
Well, the invitation surprised him, but James didn't hesitate to step forward and press in against the other's body. Taller then him, thinner yet stronger, and immensely warmer. So he let out a sigh and closed his eyes. "....Definitely odd but... good."
"It is intriguing to me, James, that you are so at ease in my presence. Yet my elder self has all but forced his way into your memory and my younger self has... inspired some degree of social trauma."
"...I know you." Murmured so softly. "Even if I don't, I do. It just feels... okay. Different then Bones, though." Why was he saying this? How could he know Spock? He didn't know him at all, but here they were, in this impossible dream.
"It is gratifying that you have initiated sexual contact with your McCoy. It would have been illogical to do otherwise." Spock ponders things for a moment, almost as at ease here as he was in the garden of his secret heart with Jim. "It was disappointing to find that his apparent consent to join our encounter was a ruse.
A scoff and James looked up with that, laughing a little, "He consented, he's just in denial. ...Wait, how the fuck do you know that we fucked?" James blinked in surprise. They hadn't even talked about anything like that!
Spock considered. "Perhaps it is I that am the dream, in this case, as I am not certain how I have come by that knowledge. However, it did seem inevitable, given the indicators." The air was even colder now - night fell quickly in the desert. The human did not seem to feel it yet Spock was chilled and welcomed even the meager warmth offered by James' body.
"...Great. You can tell when I've fucked and I can always tell when you are." James shook his head, "It was okay until it almost got me strangled."
"What?" James has not mentioned this before. "I have read the transcripts. You deliberately provoked Spock into attacking you on the bridge, did you not?"
That made him blink, and then suddenly he realized what the misfire was. "I don't mean then. There... was another time." He had the grace to sound almost embarrassed. "Remember the officer's meeting?"
Spock was grateful for the dark as the tips of his ears heated. "My memory is vague. It is possible that myself and my mates... overreached ourselves in our attendance."
James shook his head, "You overreached yourself into my head. I couldn't stop thinking all these fucking hot images of the whole group of us fucking and sucking..." He cleared his throat, then laughed, "Then... Spock touched me." Knowing this Spock would know exactly what he meant.
Fascinating. There was simply no other adequate response. "Fascinating." Pon farr truly was a greater madness than he had imagined, even knowing, even having survived it before. "I apologize, Jim. The must have been quite a burden for you at that time. And... I have observed that these images provoke an uncharacteristically violent response in my counterpart." More parts are clicking into place. Spock recalls the accusation that he was replacing young Spock, that James preferred him over his current first officer. "In his aloneness, such visions are an assault."
"I didn't mean it to happen! It just happened so fast and..." James couldn't help his grumble, "I didn't really know that kind of shit would happen. He was so PISSED but I managed to talk him down. Was like talking down an angry tiger, though."
"If there is any blame to be assigned, it is to me, James. I should have taken better precautions or removed myself from your ship entirely when I first began to experience the symptoms." He realizes that this bond he shares would not have happened in any other circumstance but the needs of the many.... "I accept this blame and will make suitable reparation to both of you."
"You don't have to make up anything to me, okay?" James muttered, surprised to realize that where his head is, he's not hearing the strong heartbeat where he should. "You're healing him, so it's okay. Between you and Prime and maybe your Jim... he'll be okay. There isn't anything I can do."
"You make too many assumptions, James. You will be vital to the healing, I believe." Spock takes James' hand, places it low on his side. "My heart is located here."
It was weird when someone could read your thoughts. Under his palm he could feel the radiating heat from the Vulcan's skin and the hummingbird-fast pulse of a Vulcan heart. His brows rose, but he looked back up, "Spock, seriously, I think it'd be better if I wasn't part of any healing. Him and I get along like oil and water."
Spock placed his palm over the human's heart, to feel the strong pulse through sensitive skin, slower than his own, more insistent. Was this why humans were such emotional creatures? A heart working this heart to keep them alive, thinking, breathing, feeling? "You desire to be his friend as well as his commanding officer. You must be part of the healing."
James honestly wasn't sure what he felt about that. He wanted to help, but how was he going to? He tried to do stuff in the past but in the end they just were too different. They clashed fiercely over almost everything; when they worked together and were a united front there was nothing that could stop them. Not even a pissed off powerful Romulan. "...What do you want me to do?" He asked unsurely. Here, his emotions were impossible to hide.
"Nothing at the moment. Other than to be his captain. Perhaps we will all share a meal during this shore leave."
That made James go silent, thinking about it. Then, slowly, he smiled. Maybe... "Actually, I'd like to give it a shot. You know, on my own." Maybe he could get Spock to relax a little, and they could just... talk. Nothing important, just figure some things out. Nothing to get violent to get over, and he'd make sure he was sob-- well, not drunk for it. "What do you like to drink, Spock?"
"I am fond of both water and a variety of fruit juices."
"No, I mean... like a drink drink. Alcohol!" James gave him a look for that.
The look Spock gave him in return was both serenely smug and innocent. "I do not believe Vulcan port is accessible in your time, given... events. However, human alcohol does not affect Vulcans as it does humans. In addition, given what you know of our culture, what leads you to believe that Vulcans would enjoy inebriation?"
"I dunno, I just think it'd be good if we relaxed together, ya know? If it was another human, I'd say we could just get a couple of beers and we'd be fine. But anytime we've had beer in a rec room he always declines so I know he doesn't like it." James shrugged a little.
Spock leaned in close, peering at James' face. "What will you say if he declines? Would you respect that choice or would you endeavor to circumvent his will for your own purposes?"
"Well, I'd like to heavily suggest him joining me for something. Can I do that?" He grinned, but the grin fell as he looked up to Spock's eyes and saw his expression.
"He has had enough choice taken from him of late." He continued the gaze. "I would consider it poor treatment of him were you to also negate his choice in the matter."
James held up a hand, "I'll be good, promise. I'll ask him, offer, and if he says no... I'll offer fruit juice instead. Alright?"
The dark eyes squint slightly. "Offer him the fruit juice. And... chocolate."
Pause. James just looked up at Spock in confusion, "Chocolate? Why the hell c--" He stopped, and his eyes slowly went wide. A blink, then the biggest bullshit grin started to spread across his lips and lit up the desert night. "Seriously? Chocolate? Vulcans get drunk off chocolate!?"
"Dark chocolate is especially fine." His eyes get a faraway look, not homesick but... remembering fondly. "Also, though I do not recall your Standard word for them, there is a red berry that can be dipped in chocolate."
James' brows furrowed together, "Red berry that can... chocolate covered strawberries?" He questioned, grinning even more.
It's almost a smile. Almost. "Yes, I believe that is what they are called. Have you had them? They are very delicious."
Oh yes, the tease came right into his voice, "And should I bring you back some as well?"
Perhaps Jim and Leonard would care for them. Jim had mentioned the pleasurable sharing of new foods. "That would be appreciated."
"I bet it would be." James could imagine the three of the other sharing those in-- HAD to stop that thought entirely. He shifted a little bit, almost stepping back from Spock even as he grinned. "Deal."
The thought had gotten through anyway. "Jim also seems quite enamored of the mixing of food and sexual relations. It seems most... illogical. And perhaps unsanitary."
Dammit, caught! James could just laugh, his eyes closing for a moment as he couldn't help himself. "Sex... is often illogical." Mimicking Spock's own tone of the word as he looked up, eyes blazing bright.
"I have found this to be true, particularly with the humans of my experience." Spock took this very seriously. It was, after all, a matter of some scientific curiosity for him.
"Mm... too bad we didn't get to experiment ourselves." James just couldn't ever help himself when it came to flirting. If he could get away with it (or at least thought he could), he would do it. And he trusted Spock enough for that, to do it in this place where the chill was wrapped around them, the scent of an alien planet, and the howl of something in the distance.
It would soon be too cold for him to remain on the balcony. Yet the confines of this strange dream were unknown to him and Spock was disinclined to test them by proposing they move inside. "James, my Jim expressed some confusion over my expectations of him, which you seem to share. I am not uninterested in continuing, as your Terran idiom would phrase it, where we left off. You do nothing to lessen my bond and I share my own link "
That made James look up in surprise, blinking. "Seriously? But Jim got all upset when the two of us fucked. Upset about you."
"I accept Jim as he is. I would not seek to change him." Spock blinked. "Though there is much we have not yet been able to discuss. Perhaps this is what troubled him. I sensed his joy in his encounter with you."
"He was enjoying it. Then suddenly... bam. Stopped, got upset, and wanted to go find you. Completely killed the mood, and... fuck. He acted like an asshole." Here, he couldn't hide his annoyance at the whole thing. The first time he'd ever felt guilt at having had sex, even though he did enjoy the act itself. A lot.
"I do not believe my Jim has ever questioned himself in this regard. He is most concerned regarding his actions toward you and your response." He tilted his head, inclined it toward James. "And in part, as in so much else we have discussed, at least some responsibility lies with me. I did not shield adequately during the... altercation with your Spock. Jim informed me that he experienced a certain influence."
"Yea?" James hadn't noticed anything in particular. "...I... it was awkward, the end there." He stepped back slightly, looking up to Spock's face. "I'll talk to him when he contacts me again."
"This is... pleasing. I would not cause difficulty between you." Spock looks away. There is so much he wants, in his own universe and this one. He should meditate on this new-found surplus of desire. Yet he cannot regret it, feel shame for it. He is Spock and in this universe he is, without restraint, being Spock.
James eyed Spock for a moment, then just had to ask, "You could feel us fucking?" A slow grin, "...Did you enjoy it?"
"Perhaps regrettably, my attention at the time was focused by necessity upon the encounter with your Spock. I thought to tell Jim what had transpired but you were still occupied. It was a most intriguing image." Spock has gone excessively formal again. A sure tell that he is either teasing or uncomfortable, though he would deny either state.
A dark little smirk, and James stepped in close. "...Oh yea?" Couldn't. Help. Himself. "You like the idea of us getting close, licking each other, touching each other.. he cried out for me, begged for me to fuck him, let me tie him up and blindfold him. Completely in my control."
Even up close, in this darkness Spock's eyes were bottomless, cool black wells of thought. "There is some logic that dictates when a man must be in control at all times, the greatest pleasure to be found is in submission to another."
"Exactly." James leaned in close, hands fisting in the other's shirt. "And would you want it to happen again?"
The hand in his shirt was warmer than a human hand ought to feel. The contrast with the cold air was making him dizzy. "A repeat of our previously interrupted encounter would not be objectionable. Nor would an encounter of any such nature with you."
"...Definitely wouldn't mind finishing that. Damn, I wanted you to fuck me. You're hot when you decide to take control." James pulled down on that shirt, dragging their faces closer.
"Such as now, James?" And suddenly Spock pinned James back against the railing he'd been warning James to back away from. The desert at James' back, Spock at his front, no recourse.
"...yea. Right now." He finished pulling Spock into a hard kiss, grinding himself against the Vulcan's thigh as he starts getting hard. Fuck, that mouth is hotter then anything he could imagine.
Spock kissed back - if he had not before pursued the study of kissing, he had spent the last several days kissing his own Jim Kirk, arguably a master of the art form, and he bit at James' lips to make them swell, thrust his tongue into James' mouth as he would into James' body. It was not the kisses he shared with his mates; it was entirely different. But there was something similar about the flavor of James' mouth that Spock found most appealing. Kirk growled into the kiss, matching the Vulcan in every way he could. Fuck, yea, he wanted this, wanted to be thrown down and fucked ha---
James T. Kirk suddenly jerked awake as a communicator went off in his bedroom, somewhere. He was still nude, fuck he was hard, and Bones was asleep at his side.
"Fuck."