New ST:TOS Fic
Title: Very Slowly
Rating: PG...maybe PG-13 for mentions of sexual acts but no actual sex
Summary: Spock and Jim have been taking things very slowly, but it might be time for the next step.
Warnings: None
Pairing: K/S; established relationship
Universe: ST:TOS
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing for awhile.
Author's Notes: The exceedingly lovely reaction I've received to my first fic posted over at Sherlockbbc has given me the courage to post a ST:TOS fic I finished today. No beta, so any mistakes are mine. Please feel free to point out any mistakes you find. I'm sure there are plenty! So...here's my second fic ever. Apparently holiday break means fic writing, and holiday nog means the courage to post those fics. I'm even going to cross-post over at K/S Archive...then I'm heading back for more nog.
Spock entered the cabin to find it blanketed in darkness. This was unexpected. He knew Jim's shift had ended 2.37 hours earlier, and he had expected to find his t'hy'la in their cabin completing some of the more mundane tasks required by his position. Or as Jim put it, "I like to get all the damn paperwork finished before dinner so we can have some free time together in the evenings. Logical, don't you think, Mr. Spock?" Indeed, Spock was forced to agree with his captain in this regard. He himself often completed any tasks requiring his presence in the labs during this same time so that he too was "free" to spend time with Jim. Requiring far less sleep than his human, he usually completed his own "paperwork" in the early hours of the morning well before Jim awoke.
Spock ordered the lights up to 80 percent and moved towards his computer console to inquire as to Jim's whereabouts. However, the grunt he heard sounding from behind the room divider made such an inquiry unnecessary. Jim was indeed in the cabin, but for some reason had been lying in their bunk in the dark. Spock pondered this as he ordered the lights back down and strode into the sleeping area of the cabin. He found Jim lying on his back with his arm thrown over his face, shielding his eyes from the briefly brightened lights. Finding his captain in such a state had once been a not uncommon occurrence. However, since the commencement of a romantic relationship between he and Jim 11.26 months previously, the man had only been laid low by a migraine twice. It appeared that number should now be increased to three.
Spock lowered himself gently to sit on the side of the bed and placed his hand on the center of Jim's chest. "T'hy'la," he said softly, "you appear to be suffering from another migraine. Should I contact Dr. McCoy?"
Jim moved his arm from his face and lowered his hand down to join Spock's on top of his chest. "No. I don't think so. It isn't one of the really bad ones. I think the rest and the dark room seem to have headed off the worst of it."
"You have been working too hard, Jim. We have had two very trying diplomatic missions that have required all of your attention and most of your considerable skill, and these followed on the heels of a particularly active two months of border patrol of the Neutral Zone. Perhaps a discussion with Fleet regarding shore leave would be in order."
Jim smiled up at his friend, "You want to ask for shore leave? I've never had hallucinations with these headaches before."
"Your attempts at humor are even weaker than normal, Jim. It only gives me further cause for concern," Spock deadpanned, the twinkle in his eyes the only clue to his love that he was growing ever more comfortable with the concept of teasing.
"Point made, Commander. Actually, you're not the only one to make the point today. McCoy cornered me earlier with a similar suggestion. He doesn't make suggestions nearly as nicely as you though."
"I should hope not," eliciting a breath of a laugh from Jim. Spock noted the slight grimace that quickly followed the laugh and decided the situation called for further action. He realized Jim's "discussion" with McCoy was probably the reason the captain was avoiding sick bay. Spock could not blame the man for avoiding the lecture and "I told you so" smirk that would no doubt accompany said visit. Nevertheless, Spock, though not a medical doctor himself, was still quite knowledgeable as to Jim's condition and had thoroughly researched any and all methods of amelioration of the migraine symptoms. Anything which effected his love so warranted an exhaustive study and the application of Spock's not inconsiderable intellect to the problem.
Jim had closed his eyes again and seemed to be trying to doze. Spock knew from previous episodes that sleep would be the best "medicine" for these headaches, but reaching a state of peaceful rest would be exceedingly difficult without chemical aid. However, Spock believed he knew one technique which would help Jim rest properly.
"Jim, let me help you," Spock murmured, lifting his hand from Jim's chest toward his head.
"Hmmm? What?" Jim opened his eyes when he felt the movement. "I really don't want you to call McCoy, Spock."
"I know, Jim, but that is not what I had in mind." Resting his hands gently along the sides of Jim's face, Spock continued, "I believe there are mind techniques with which I am familiar that can be used to help you channel the pain away. Failing that, I know that I can plant a suggestion in your mind which will help you sleep."
Jim looked up at Spock with a surprised expression. Spock had used his telepathic gifts and training a number of times in the line of duty during his tenure on the Enterprise. However, he knew that the mental touch Spock was now suggesting was something far deeper, far more personal than anything they'd ever shared before. When Jim had first realized how his care for his first officer was turning into something more romantic than brotherly, he had given great thought and deliberation as to how to handle that knowledge. He had always been sensitive to the fact that Spock was not entirely human, and though he thought he'd successfully navigated that potential obstacle as a friend, he had his doubts as to his ability to do so as a partner...a lover. So, he'd fallen back upon his bookish nature which had taken a bit of back seat lately due to the more forceful and active nature demanded by his captaincy. But, Gary Mitchell hadn't lied when he'd said Jim had been a walking stack of books at the Academy, and Jim had quickly fallen back into the rhythm of an excellent researcher.
He'd run into a number of obstacles due to Vulcan's reticence to share any information regarding sexuality with outworlders. He was also encumbered by the fact that he refused to ask for any help from McCoy. If the whole idea of Spock and him as lovers never panned out, McCoy was the last person he wanted to know about it. However, Jim was nothing if not determined, and he'd uncovered precious nuggets of information from a number of different sources. These sources spoke vaguely of mental bonds, bonds tying mates to one another for life. Bonds that could never be broken and which often caused one mate to follow the other even into death. Jim knew his decision was made when the thought of such a bond with Spock made his chest ache with want, with need, rather than the fear he would have expected such information to elicit.
Less than a month later, Spock had entered his Pon Farr, and Jim learned more about Vulcan sexuality and mating than he could have ever gleaned from any amount of research on a computer. After the disaster of the koon-ut-kal-if-fee, Jim was more than convinced that Spock too felt more than friendship for his captain, and they commenced their romantic relationship within a matter of weeks.
Spock, however, had been spooked by their experience on Vulcan. There really was no other word for it. Though Jim had explained what his research had revealed and his willingness to enter into a bond, Spock had insisted they take their relationship very slowly. Jim had been charmed at first, and understanding of his friend's reservations. Vulcan had been a traumatic mission for everyone involved, and he was sure enough of himself and Spock to move along at whatever speed Spock needed. He had perhaps not been prepared for exactly how slow Spock meant when he'd said slow. Glacial would've been the better word.
Spock had courted Jim in his own special way, introducing small intimacies into their already close friendship. Finger touching and hand holding had come first, followed by chaste kisses. A couple of months of this had Jim trying and then failing not to push those kisses from chaste to heated. Heated kisses led inevitably to heated touching, and the two had finally used their hands to bring each other to completion by the six-month mark. Oral sex had come delightfully soon thereafter, but actual penetration had only occurred in the last month or so. Spock could surely give him the precise date, but Jim's memory of the experience was short on details and long on sense memory. It had been wonderful. They'd decided to join their cabins only three weeks ago, formally informing Star Fleet of their change in status and making their relationship "official."
What hadn't happened yet though was any introduction of the more Vulcan aspects of sexuality into their relationship. Finger kisses were really the only uniquely Vulcan part of their lovemaking to date. Jim had attempted to broach the subject with Spock more than once. However, Spock stubbornly refused to discuss the subject in depth. He insisted that they had plenty of time to deal with the mental necessities of mating with a Vulcan before Spock's next Pon Farr. Jim tried hard to see this avoidance for what it was... not rejection, but fear, plain and simple. Spock, though he would never admit it, was scared to death at even the thought of Pon Farr and the fact that a mental bond with Jim could endanger him during Spock's next mating drive. The result was that both men wanted--no, needed--the mental contact demanded by Spock's nature, but one was too scared to initiate such contact and the other was too in love to want to be the cause of such fear. As far as Jim could tell, they were in limbo until Spock could work through his own brand of intimacy issues. Jim, however, was in no danger of leaving Spock and would freely admit that the relationship they now shared was the by far the best, most-fulfilling of his life. He couldn't even imagine life without Spock in it, and he knew the reverse was true, as well.
All of which meant Jim was more than a little surprised when Spock offered to touch him mentally for the first time not in the line of duty. They had had no mental contact since their relationship had bloomed, and Jim hadn't expected any for some time. Jim was a master at grabbing opportunities fast and hard, but he feared pushing his love into something for which he wasn't yet ready.
"Spock? Are you sure? I appreciate that you want to help, but you don't have to do this. I can call McCoy if you want. Really, it's not even that bad of a heada...."
Jim's words were cut off quite effectively with a firm kiss from Spock.
"Yes, Jim. I am quite sure. I feel it is time for us to approach this aspect of our relationship, and now seems a serendipitous opportunity. A superficial touching of your mind would not only reintroduce us to some mental intimacy, but would also serve to help rid you of your pain. It is a most logical solution to two issues we are currently facing, Jim."
"Well, far be it from me to argue with your logic," Jim said as he relaxed a little back into the bedding. "Work your voodoo on me at will, Mr. Spock. Let's see if you're as good at this as you are everything else," Jim teased.
"I always endeavor to perform at the highest standards, Captain." And there was that twinkle again. Jim smiled as Spock's hands settled into a familiar formation on the side of his face.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
The next morning found Jim at his normal table in the mess digging into a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs
"Well, well, well," drawled a voice behind him. "I see you're back to fightin' form this morning. Headache not as bad as you thought then," asked McCoy, swinging himself into the seat across from Jim.
Not even bothering to ask how McCoy knew about the headache, Jim answered, "Nope, it was bad enough. I just managed to find an alternative therapy."
This earned him a scowl from the doctor. "What the hell are you talking about, Jim?"
"Get your knickers out of a twist, Bones. I just managed a nice, deep sleep. When I woke up this morning the headache was gone. I feel good as new."
"And how precisely did you manage this miracle sleep. When your head gets like that, I usually have to use enough tranq to drop an elephant to get you to sleep."
"Well," Jim averted his eyes and shifted a bit uncomfortably in his chair, "Spock helped me."
"Oh well, glad to hear he finally earned his MD," came the sarcastic reply.
"He didn't dose me with any medicine, you worry-wart. He just..."
"I initiated a very superficial meld with the captain which allowed him to enter into a deep level of sleep which appears to have alleviated all the symptoms associated with his migraine," interrupted Spock's baritone as he gracefully sat in the chair next to Jim.
McCoy glared at both of them, eyes narrowing as he looked from one man to the other. Jim seemed to actually be blushing ever so slightly and fighting not to look surprised at what Spock had shared, and Spock's face had taken on the blank mask that only appeared when he was consciously fighting not to show any expression whatsoever.
McCoy took a deep breath, ready to launch into a low-key (for him) tirade about the dangers and flat-out creepiness of all that Vulcan mind voodoo, but for some reason thought better of it. In a rare moment of circumspection, he decided that there might be more going on with this than just helping with a migraine. Oh well, he'd get it out of Jim later. He might let this bone go, but he'd be back soon enough for a thorough gnaw. He looked pointedly at Jim and knew the message was received.
"Thanks, Bones," came softly from the Captain.
"Don't thank me yet. I'm going to let this go for the moment, but I'm still going to chew your ass out about your breakfast. How many times do I have to tell you what that crap does to your arteries?"
"So far, 217 times," came the brisk reply from Spock.
"God, don't you start this morning. It's all I can do take you on a full stomach. I can't face this before I've even had a chance to eat."
Listening to his friend and his lover settle into their normal breakfast conversation, Jim finally relaxed into his chair and started back to eating his deliciously fatty breakfast. Picking up a bite of eggs, he felt a large, warm hand come to rest on his leg underneath the table. Smiling like a madman as he chewed, Jim thought today was shaping up to be a very good day indeed.
Rating: PG...maybe PG-13 for mentions of sexual acts but no actual sex
Summary: Spock and Jim have been taking things very slowly, but it might be time for the next step.
Warnings: None
Pairing: K/S; established relationship
Universe: ST:TOS
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing for awhile.
Author's Notes: The exceedingly lovely reaction I've received to my first fic posted over at Sherlockbbc has given me the courage to post a ST:TOS fic I finished today. No beta, so any mistakes are mine. Please feel free to point out any mistakes you find. I'm sure there are plenty! So...here's my second fic ever. Apparently holiday break means fic writing, and holiday nog means the courage to post those fics. I'm even going to cross-post over at K/S Archive...then I'm heading back for more nog.
Spock entered the cabin to find it blanketed in darkness. This was unexpected. He knew Jim's shift had ended 2.37 hours earlier, and he had expected to find his t'hy'la in their cabin completing some of the more mundane tasks required by his position. Or as Jim put it, "I like to get all the damn paperwork finished before dinner so we can have some free time together in the evenings. Logical, don't you think, Mr. Spock?" Indeed, Spock was forced to agree with his captain in this regard. He himself often completed any tasks requiring his presence in the labs during this same time so that he too was "free" to spend time with Jim. Requiring far less sleep than his human, he usually completed his own "paperwork" in the early hours of the morning well before Jim awoke.
Spock ordered the lights up to 80 percent and moved towards his computer console to inquire as to Jim's whereabouts. However, the grunt he heard sounding from behind the room divider made such an inquiry unnecessary. Jim was indeed in the cabin, but for some reason had been lying in their bunk in the dark. Spock pondered this as he ordered the lights back down and strode into the sleeping area of the cabin. He found Jim lying on his back with his arm thrown over his face, shielding his eyes from the briefly brightened lights. Finding his captain in such a state had once been a not uncommon occurrence. However, since the commencement of a romantic relationship between he and Jim 11.26 months previously, the man had only been laid low by a migraine twice. It appeared that number should now be increased to three.
Spock lowered himself gently to sit on the side of the bed and placed his hand on the center of Jim's chest. "T'hy'la," he said softly, "you appear to be suffering from another migraine. Should I contact Dr. McCoy?"
Jim moved his arm from his face and lowered his hand down to join Spock's on top of his chest. "No. I don't think so. It isn't one of the really bad ones. I think the rest and the dark room seem to have headed off the worst of it."
"You have been working too hard, Jim. We have had two very trying diplomatic missions that have required all of your attention and most of your considerable skill, and these followed on the heels of a particularly active two months of border patrol of the Neutral Zone. Perhaps a discussion with Fleet regarding shore leave would be in order."
Jim smiled up at his friend, "You want to ask for shore leave? I've never had hallucinations with these headaches before."
"Your attempts at humor are even weaker than normal, Jim. It only gives me further cause for concern," Spock deadpanned, the twinkle in his eyes the only clue to his love that he was growing ever more comfortable with the concept of teasing.
"Point made, Commander. Actually, you're not the only one to make the point today. McCoy cornered me earlier with a similar suggestion. He doesn't make suggestions nearly as nicely as you though."
"I should hope not," eliciting a breath of a laugh from Jim. Spock noted the slight grimace that quickly followed the laugh and decided the situation called for further action. He realized Jim's "discussion" with McCoy was probably the reason the captain was avoiding sick bay. Spock could not blame the man for avoiding the lecture and "I told you so" smirk that would no doubt accompany said visit. Nevertheless, Spock, though not a medical doctor himself, was still quite knowledgeable as to Jim's condition and had thoroughly researched any and all methods of amelioration of the migraine symptoms. Anything which effected his love so warranted an exhaustive study and the application of Spock's not inconsiderable intellect to the problem.
Jim had closed his eyes again and seemed to be trying to doze. Spock knew from previous episodes that sleep would be the best "medicine" for these headaches, but reaching a state of peaceful rest would be exceedingly difficult without chemical aid. However, Spock believed he knew one technique which would help Jim rest properly.
"Jim, let me help you," Spock murmured, lifting his hand from Jim's chest toward his head.
"Hmmm? What?" Jim opened his eyes when he felt the movement. "I really don't want you to call McCoy, Spock."
"I know, Jim, but that is not what I had in mind." Resting his hands gently along the sides of Jim's face, Spock continued, "I believe there are mind techniques with which I am familiar that can be used to help you channel the pain away. Failing that, I know that I can plant a suggestion in your mind which will help you sleep."
Jim looked up at Spock with a surprised expression. Spock had used his telepathic gifts and training a number of times in the line of duty during his tenure on the Enterprise. However, he knew that the mental touch Spock was now suggesting was something far deeper, far more personal than anything they'd ever shared before. When Jim had first realized how his care for his first officer was turning into something more romantic than brotherly, he had given great thought and deliberation as to how to handle that knowledge. He had always been sensitive to the fact that Spock was not entirely human, and though he thought he'd successfully navigated that potential obstacle as a friend, he had his doubts as to his ability to do so as a partner...a lover. So, he'd fallen back upon his bookish nature which had taken a bit of back seat lately due to the more forceful and active nature demanded by his captaincy. But, Gary Mitchell hadn't lied when he'd said Jim had been a walking stack of books at the Academy, and Jim had quickly fallen back into the rhythm of an excellent researcher.
He'd run into a number of obstacles due to Vulcan's reticence to share any information regarding sexuality with outworlders. He was also encumbered by the fact that he refused to ask for any help from McCoy. If the whole idea of Spock and him as lovers never panned out, McCoy was the last person he wanted to know about it. However, Jim was nothing if not determined, and he'd uncovered precious nuggets of information from a number of different sources. These sources spoke vaguely of mental bonds, bonds tying mates to one another for life. Bonds that could never be broken and which often caused one mate to follow the other even into death. Jim knew his decision was made when the thought of such a bond with Spock made his chest ache with want, with need, rather than the fear he would have expected such information to elicit.
Less than a month later, Spock had entered his Pon Farr, and Jim learned more about Vulcan sexuality and mating than he could have ever gleaned from any amount of research on a computer. After the disaster of the koon-ut-kal-if-fee, Jim was more than convinced that Spock too felt more than friendship for his captain, and they commenced their romantic relationship within a matter of weeks.
Spock, however, had been spooked by their experience on Vulcan. There really was no other word for it. Though Jim had explained what his research had revealed and his willingness to enter into a bond, Spock had insisted they take their relationship very slowly. Jim had been charmed at first, and understanding of his friend's reservations. Vulcan had been a traumatic mission for everyone involved, and he was sure enough of himself and Spock to move along at whatever speed Spock needed. He had perhaps not been prepared for exactly how slow Spock meant when he'd said slow. Glacial would've been the better word.
Spock had courted Jim in his own special way, introducing small intimacies into their already close friendship. Finger touching and hand holding had come first, followed by chaste kisses. A couple of months of this had Jim trying and then failing not to push those kisses from chaste to heated. Heated kisses led inevitably to heated touching, and the two had finally used their hands to bring each other to completion by the six-month mark. Oral sex had come delightfully soon thereafter, but actual penetration had only occurred in the last month or so. Spock could surely give him the precise date, but Jim's memory of the experience was short on details and long on sense memory. It had been wonderful. They'd decided to join their cabins only three weeks ago, formally informing Star Fleet of their change in status and making their relationship "official."
What hadn't happened yet though was any introduction of the more Vulcan aspects of sexuality into their relationship. Finger kisses were really the only uniquely Vulcan part of their lovemaking to date. Jim had attempted to broach the subject with Spock more than once. However, Spock stubbornly refused to discuss the subject in depth. He insisted that they had plenty of time to deal with the mental necessities of mating with a Vulcan before Spock's next Pon Farr. Jim tried hard to see this avoidance for what it was... not rejection, but fear, plain and simple. Spock, though he would never admit it, was scared to death at even the thought of Pon Farr and the fact that a mental bond with Jim could endanger him during Spock's next mating drive. The result was that both men wanted--no, needed--the mental contact demanded by Spock's nature, but one was too scared to initiate such contact and the other was too in love to want to be the cause of such fear. As far as Jim could tell, they were in limbo until Spock could work through his own brand of intimacy issues. Jim, however, was in no danger of leaving Spock and would freely admit that the relationship they now shared was the by far the best, most-fulfilling of his life. He couldn't even imagine life without Spock in it, and he knew the reverse was true, as well.
All of which meant Jim was more than a little surprised when Spock offered to touch him mentally for the first time not in the line of duty. They had had no mental contact since their relationship had bloomed, and Jim hadn't expected any for some time. Jim was a master at grabbing opportunities fast and hard, but he feared pushing his love into something for which he wasn't yet ready.
"Spock? Are you sure? I appreciate that you want to help, but you don't have to do this. I can call McCoy if you want. Really, it's not even that bad of a heada...."
Jim's words were cut off quite effectively with a firm kiss from Spock.
"Yes, Jim. I am quite sure. I feel it is time for us to approach this aspect of our relationship, and now seems a serendipitous opportunity. A superficial touching of your mind would not only reintroduce us to some mental intimacy, but would also serve to help rid you of your pain. It is a most logical solution to two issues we are currently facing, Jim."
"Well, far be it from me to argue with your logic," Jim said as he relaxed a little back into the bedding. "Work your voodoo on me at will, Mr. Spock. Let's see if you're as good at this as you are everything else," Jim teased.
"I always endeavor to perform at the highest standards, Captain." And there was that twinkle again. Jim smiled as Spock's hands settled into a familiar formation on the side of his face.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
The next morning found Jim at his normal table in the mess digging into a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs
"Well, well, well," drawled a voice behind him. "I see you're back to fightin' form this morning. Headache not as bad as you thought then," asked McCoy, swinging himself into the seat across from Jim.
Not even bothering to ask how McCoy knew about the headache, Jim answered, "Nope, it was bad enough. I just managed to find an alternative therapy."
This earned him a scowl from the doctor. "What the hell are you talking about, Jim?"
"Get your knickers out of a twist, Bones. I just managed a nice, deep sleep. When I woke up this morning the headache was gone. I feel good as new."
"And how precisely did you manage this miracle sleep. When your head gets like that, I usually have to use enough tranq to drop an elephant to get you to sleep."
"Well," Jim averted his eyes and shifted a bit uncomfortably in his chair, "Spock helped me."
"Oh well, glad to hear he finally earned his MD," came the sarcastic reply.
"He didn't dose me with any medicine, you worry-wart. He just..."
"I initiated a very superficial meld with the captain which allowed him to enter into a deep level of sleep which appears to have alleviated all the symptoms associated with his migraine," interrupted Spock's baritone as he gracefully sat in the chair next to Jim.
McCoy glared at both of them, eyes narrowing as he looked from one man to the other. Jim seemed to actually be blushing ever so slightly and fighting not to look surprised at what Spock had shared, and Spock's face had taken on the blank mask that only appeared when he was consciously fighting not to show any expression whatsoever.
McCoy took a deep breath, ready to launch into a low-key (for him) tirade about the dangers and flat-out creepiness of all that Vulcan mind voodoo, but for some reason thought better of it. In a rare moment of circumspection, he decided that there might be more going on with this than just helping with a migraine. Oh well, he'd get it out of Jim later. He might let this bone go, but he'd be back soon enough for a thorough gnaw. He looked pointedly at Jim and knew the message was received.
"Thanks, Bones," came softly from the Captain.
"Don't thank me yet. I'm going to let this go for the moment, but I'm still going to chew your ass out about your breakfast. How many times do I have to tell you what that crap does to your arteries?"
"So far, 217 times," came the brisk reply from Spock.
"God, don't you start this morning. It's all I can do take you on a full stomach. I can't face this before I've even had a chance to eat."
Listening to his friend and his lover settle into their normal breakfast conversation, Jim finally relaxed into his chair and started back to eating his deliciously fatty breakfast. Picking up a bite of eggs, he felt a large, warm hand come to rest on his leg underneath the table. Smiling like a madman as he chewed, Jim thought today was shaping up to be a very good day indeed.