[k/s] turning hours into centuries (3/3)
Jim is disoriented the first time he wakes up, only aware of the comfortable warmth surrounding him and only thinking of how much he wants to stay here and never ever get up even for shore leave or aliens with expanding tentacles or a run-in slash firing brigade with the Klingons. He buries himself further into the heat, wrapping his arms around it, letting it take over his every thought until he's spiraling into sleep.
The second time he wakes, he hears the sound of a heart. It rings in his ears softly, and blends with the beat of his own heart. Jim smells incense and candles, the Vulcan ones he gave Spock for the crew's first Christmas in space. He smiles at the memory of Spock's face when he opened the present, the softness of his eyes and the curve of his lips. Jim remembers his heart fluttering in his chest and warmth spreading throughout his body. He has to smother the feeling of pride that rose in him because, come on, it wasn't everyday he got to see his first officer so open.
When Jim opens his eyes, everything is in black and white: his sheets, his walls, the regulation black undershirt that paints Spock's body, his every muscle, every contour. Jim's eyes are drawn to the pale skin of Spock's neck, and the next thing he knows, his lips are on it, breathing softly on the warm skin, then sucking lightly on it. He doesn't think about what he is doing, just that it feels like what he should do.
"Jim," Spock murmurs, probably still in the grasp of sleep. It's adorable, he thinks, and elating to be seeing this for the very first time.
"Good morning," Jim says, cuddling closer to him. "Thanks for taking care of me. And for staying. I feel better now."
"It is of no consequence," Spock assures him, leaning into his touch. Jim presses another kiss to his nape before sitting up, pulling Spock with him.
"Spock." Jim slides his hands to his first officer's elbows and looks at him straight in the eyes. "I just--this all feels so natural but I'm scared that if I don't ask you now, I'll just freak out and start avoiding you."
Spock's eyes soften, fondness swimming in them. "Speak your mind, Jim."
"That was a Vulcan kiss, right? Back then?"
"You are correct."
"And you don't just give Vulcan kisses away, right? Because you're Vulcan and you're monogamous and you're not the kind of guy who puts out but doesn't go through with it?"
"Indeed."
"So I guess that means you like me? Sort of? I hope?"
"You are overthinking, Jim," he says, before wrapping a hand around the back of Jim's neck and pulling him closer until their lips crash together in a gentle, teasing kiss.
"Wait," Jim whispers when they break apart to take a breath. "This is a yes, right?"
"I do," Spock hesitates, "hold affection for you, yes."
Definitely a yes, Jim thinks just as he leans in for another kiss.
***
Jim and Spock act as they usually do, for the most part. Apparently, their longing stares at each other are commonplace, and so is their flirting. The only thing that's different is that instead of their too friendly and bordering on homoerotic touches, now it's just homoerotic. They try to lie low, of course, but apparently, Vulcans can't keep their hands off their partner for even one minute. And no, that isn't an exaggeration.
"God, if I knew this is what would happen, I would never have let you go down that planet, Jim," Bones grumbles during breakfast. They are supposed to be rushing through it because they have a meeting with Plasus and Vanna in an hour but Bones doesn't seem to care, stabbing his plate gloomily as he glares at Jim and Spock.
"Are we that obvious?" Jim's eyes dart around the mess worriedly, clutching Spock's arm.
"Jim, you're sitting so close to each other, you might as well be sitting on the hobgoblin's lap," Bones deadpans.
"Well, you can't blame me for wanting a piece of this." Jim kisses Spock's cheek, thinking, to hell with it, they were gonna find out through Sulu anyway.
"Jesus, goddamn--Jim."
"Bones."
"I know I've told you this before, but too much information, kiddo. Too much information."
"But Bones, there can never be too much information when it comes to Vulcans and sex."
"I don't fucking care if you can write a hundred reports about it, I don't wanna know about your escapades!"
"Sexcapades, Bones, I call them sexcapades." Jim is beaming, enjoying Bones' discomfort. Spock stays silent, amused enough by their banter to feel content with watching. "Besides, we're adorable."
"Tribbles are adorable, Jim, not you."
"Tribbles are furry little creatues that occassionally save my life or make it a living hell. They are not adorable."
"You know I still don't know why you hate them so much. I like them. Spock likes them too, and that's saying something."
"Nice subject change," Jim comments. Bones groans. "They're just so... adorable and shit. It's unnatural, man."
"It's not unnatural, it's in their goddamn anatomy."
"Still! I'd prefer to be calmed down by a person than by a purring tribble."
Bones grimaces. "And by 'a person' you mean Spock."
"Bones! You worked so hard to avoid that topic and now you're digging your own grave." Jim laughs. "You masochistic bastard."
"Nothing I coulda done about it anyway."
Jim finishes the last of his toast and glances at Spock, who has only been waiting for him for the last three minutes. He slaps Bones on the back, hard. "Hurry up, Bones. If you're early, I promise you that Spock and I won't be having sex on the ready room table."
Spock raises and eyebrow at this, speaking for the first time. "Indeed, as sexual intercourse while on duty and in uniform is against regulation."
"See? Spock's a total stickler for the rules," Jim says cheerily. "It's cute, really."
Bones sets his fork down forcefully, watching the two leave, arm in arm. Jim's a downright idiot and Spock turns into one when he's with the Captain so it's all so reasonable, really. Bones has seen this coming for a while now, and he can't help the fond smile that creeps its way onto his face at the sight of them, almost glowing in their happiness.
He shakes his head in disbelief, starting to wolf down his breakfast. "How did I end up in this ship full of idiots?"
***
Everyone's already settled in their own chair five minutes before the meeting. Even Bones is there, still grumbling, of course, but less so since he's reading some ancient article about cryogenics on his data PADD. Jim is tapping a stylus against the tabletop, bopping his head to the last song he heard in the mess which is now stuck in his head. They all look up from whatever they're doing when the door opens to reveal Plasus and Vanna, entering with the guidance of two security officers.
They take seats across Jim, right on the other side of the table. "Good morning," Vanna greets, smiling good-naturedly at everyone. Meanwhile, Plasus chooses to remain silent, nodding at them in acknowledgment.
"Alright, good morning, gentlemen. And lady," Jim starts. "Before we begin, I'd like to apologize for taking you both by surprise yesterday. It was my plan, and I take full responsibility for my actions."
"I think you deserve to know that I consider it all in the past now, Captain." Translation: we don't want to screw each other up so I call a truce, yeah? Jim can't say no to that.
"Thank you, High Adviser," he says, bowing his head respectfully. "So on your PADDs, there's a report that I have ready to send to the Federation Bureau of Industrialization. The Enterprise cannot stay any longer here and as much as we'd like to leave you to resolve your differences, the Federation can't take that risk because we need a strong and stable Ardana for the impending war. I wanted to get your approval first, though, before passing you over to the FBI. You're really okay with this?"
Plasus and Vanna exchange a wary look, but they nod. Jim smiles. Well, they are trying.
"After experiencing the effects myself, I cannot deny that the zenite impairs the Troglytes," Plasus admits. "I suppose some assistance will be welcome, especially in convincing the other council members and the Troglyte leaders."
"Great." Jim signs the last of the paperwork, sends them to Rand and sets down his PADD. "Do you have any questions? About how the FBI's going to handle this or something?"
Plasus and Vanna shake their heads. Jim claps his hands and leans forward, his elbows resting in the table. "Well, then I suppose that's it. My security officers will escort you to the transporter room. FBI will arrive within this week."
Plasus stands up and nods at Jim. There's a bit of guilt in his eyes when he speaks. "May I tempt you and your crew with another night on Stratos? As a peace offering, perhaps."
Jim's mood brightens at that. He looks at Spock hopefully and practically beams when his first officer gives his consent. "We'll be there, High Adviser. Thank you."
"I will anticipate it." He exits hurriedly and Jim is left even happier than when he entered his ready room a few minutes ago.
"Captain, I want to thank you for, well, everything. I'm sorry I ever doubted you," says Vanna, who's rooted to her seat, worried and sheepish.
Jim waves her off. "I'll forgive you if you send me pictures of you and your friends in masks, okay?"
"Yes, Captain. I promise they will be worth your while," she says, winking at Jim and chuckling. He lets out a surprised laugh, not expecting her to have recovered enough to be joking already.
"She is one fine woman," he remarks. If only she weren't the liberated woman who attempted to kidnap him, maybe Jim would have given her a second look. He turns his gaze to Spock, who looks torn between amusement and spite. Actual jealous spite. This is so adorable, he thinks.
"Bones, have fun cleaning up here," Jim says cheerfully, getting out of his seat and taking Spock's hand in his. "We're getting outta here."
With that, he drags a startled Spock from the room, ignoring Bones' indignant cries of goddamn it Jim, get back here with that green-blooded hobgoblin and grumbles of I need a fuckin' drink. Thank god they expected the worst and decided to do beta shift today because if Jim wasn't already with Spock, he'd have jumped his first officer because Jesus Christ, he has never found jealousy this sexy before.
"Remind me to flirt with every woman I see just to get you riled up," Jim murmurs against Spock's lips just as they close the door of his quarters.
"I cannot promise you anything," Spock says, entangling a hand in his unruly hair. Jim laughs but it turns into a gasp when Spock's hand dips inside his waistband.
"Jesus."
"You have called me by a different name. Should I be wary of the humans' religious figure as competition?"
"If you don't stop teasing me, maybe you fucking should."
"Perhaps I wish to remind you that you are mine."
"Fuck. I swear to god--Spock." It comes out like a question, as if Jim can't believe his luck, landing a guy like Spock.
Sensing Jim's bewilderment, Spock nibbles affectionately along his jaw. "And maybe I also wish to spend the entirety of alpha shift making you wonder why you even thought of showing affection for another, whether she is a fine woman or not."
"Okay, alright, fuck just--"
Spock bites down hard on the soft skin under his ear. "Tell me what you want, Jim."
That just about does it for Jim, to be honest. Everything that happens next is a blur of incoherence, obscenities, and frantic moans of Spock's name. In the end, he's so spent, he's surprise he doesn't fall asleep immediately. He manages to cuddle with Spock to the point that they're wrapped around each other, that if someone comes in and sees them, besides getting a major boner (or lady boner) and wanting to join in the fun, he won't know whose limbs are whose.
"I love you," Spock says, and at that moment, Jim has never been so content.
"Love you too," he murmurs, squeezing around Spock's middle. He tucks his head under Spock's chin and drifts to sleep with a smile on his face.
***
The next day, Jim manages to convince Spock to beam down with him instead of joining the skeleton crew. It's hard work, but hey, Sulu and Chekov want out anyway, saying that they would rather have their first shift after leaving Ardana without a massive hangover. Bizarre behavior for those two so at first, Jim thinks that there's a hidden agenda, a sort of ploy by the crew to get him and Spock to spend more time together. And sure, that's why some ensigns volunteer, gushing supporters that they are, but when Jim sees his helmsman and navigator exchanging looks that Jim can't even begin to describe--well, he just accepts their offer, no questions asked. So does Spock.
Now, thankfully, they're sitting by the sidelines with Jim getting started on his drinks and Spock watching the partygoers with slight interest. He's drinking a chocolate milkshake, which Jim laughs at the first time he sees it, praising the heavenly deities for giving Vulcans chocolate when they gave humans and the rest of the universe alcohol. Add that to their elven ears and ridiculous bowl cuts, then they're the most adorable bastards in the Federation, sticks up their asses or not. Well, maybe except for tribbles. Even when they're all over the floor or almost suffocating you, tribbles are still pretty cute.
"Why is it that you always come with us during shore leave but you never do anything fun?" Jim asks, genuinely curious. He expected that Spock would say that he can better spend the time meditating or performing experiments in the Science Labs but that's not what happens.
Spock doesn't reply for a while, thinking about his answer. "I do not want to leave you alone." He brushes a finger along the inside of Jim's wrist, sending him a wave of reassurance. "It is not that I do not trust you. Danger seems to come to you, whether you go looking for it or not. I wish to be ready when you need me."
"I can handle myself," Jim whines, but it's meaningless. Spock will always be there, waiting by his side, no matter what happens. His voice turns soft. "Thank you."
"You are welcome," Spock replies. Jim sucks in a breath when Spock starts to run two fingers along his hand, from his knuckles to the tip of his fingers, from his wrists to his palms. The sly bastard.
"Wanna dance?" Jim asks, stumbling through the words. He can feel his face getting red, and Bones is gonna tease him about looking like a tomato if Spock keeps up this Vulcan version of blatantly making out. Apparently the only distraction he can think of involves possible grinding against Spock and even more blatant flirting. Great.
“I am not adverse to it.” And that’s how Jim finds himself pressed against Spock’s body, feeling overwhelmed because fuck, this is even more sensual than actual sex. It’s probably because of the thought of Spock dancing, showing in public a bit of what Jim sees when they are alone.
They don’t dare to do anything more than seemingly casual brushes of their hands, not in public. They know that by now, the whole crew has probably found out about them becoming an official thing, but they want to keep most of their relationship private. That much they have agreed on.
Jim makes the mistake of turning around and now he is chest to chest with Spock and he can see the darkness in his eyes, his unabashed lust and desire. His breathing goes from difficult to nonexistent, getting stuck in his throat because of his heart’s fast-paced beating. He has been half-hard for a while but now it’s getting downright painful.
"Maybe we should go back to our room." Jim struggles with the words, his mind blurring just as the edges of his vision do, focusing only on Spock.
"Indeed," Spock agrees, taking Jim's hand and guiding him through the crowd. It's all a haze in his mind and the next thing he knows, Spock is pushing him onto the bed and at the same time, fumbling with their clothes. Jim lets him, mostly because he can't really think right now, much less get his hands to function.
"I thought you would have wanted to engage in coitus while in a public location," Spock says as he trails a hand from Jim's chest, down to his hip. He's teasing, Jim realizes.
"Not feeling up to it," Jim says, choking on his breath when Spock licks the shell of his ear, at the same time pressing a hand against his crotch, the heavy, alien warmth making the mix of pleasure and desperation feel even more intense. "Maybe next time."
"I look forward to it," Spock says, and shit, Jim thinks, he actually sounds serious.
"Fuck. Don't you dare get my hopes up for nothing," Jim warns, but the threat is lost when it turns into a moan.
"I do not intend to." Spock pauses, hesitates before he sits up and takes Jim with him.
"What the fuck, Spock? What happened to I do not intend to?"
Spock raises his eyebrow, probably because of his admittedly horrible imitation of his first officer's monotone. "There is something that I wish to do. However, I wanted to ask for your permission first."
Jim scrunches his nose in thought. Was it a position or something? But judging by how nervous Spock looks, it isn't that. He's so confident in bed that Jim sometimes has trouble remembering that he has to act all Vulcan-y and suppress his emotions in public. He can’t even count the times that he expected tactility from Spock, only to end up with confusion and painful realization. No, it's something more. Something important to Spock and to Vulcans and--
"Wait, you're getting all jittery because you want to meld with me?" Jim asks, jaw dropping.
"Vulcans do not get jittery," Spock says, sounding fucking defensive, Jim notes. "Yes, I wish to meld with you. It is a serious matter for Vulcans, a test of whether or not our minds are compatible."
Jim's pleasant surprise drains out of him, leaving only worry and anxiety. "What happens if they're not? Compatible, I mean."
"Then we pursue a physical, purely human relationship," Spock says, his voice soft. "I will still love you, Jim. I will still stay beside you."
Jim purses his lips. He knows how important bonds and telepathy are to Vulcans. He doesn't know all the details but he can infer from what Spock has told him, whether it's from the older or younger of the Vulcans.
"If you are not ready, you only need to tell me no, Jim," Spock says, sneaking his arms under Jim's and wrapping them around his torso. "Then, we will continue where we left before."
"No." The word leaves Jim's mouth before he can think about it. He struggles with his resolve until he's sure of his confidence, his determination, how he's going to handle the outcome of their first attempt at melding. Sure, he's done this with the Ambassador before, but this is different. This is romantic in nature, a meld to see if they can form a bond and in human terms, get married. This is some serious shit and Jim can't mess it up.
"I want to do this," Jim says, hugging Spock back. "I want to know just as much as you do. I'm scared but I want to feel you, Spock."
Spock pulls away slightly, just enough to put his hand between them, on Jim's face. He searches Jim's eyes for a moment, and his mouth sets into a thin line when Jim nods his assent.
"Just do it, Spock."
And he does. "My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts."
The next thing Jim sees is color. All kinds of color splashed everywhere, some parts dark, some light, and some a shocking mix of neon. Jim can't see the corners of the room, can't tell if it is a room or endless space.
"Jim," he hears. It's Spock, he realizes, and a jolt of dread shoots up his spine. "Jim, you have no reason to worry."
"What? Why?"
"Your mind is very... fascinating." Jim feels himself being enveloped in warmth, feeling a rush of lovelovelovet'hy'laminecomfortlove. "I can see little similarity between our minds and yet they are attracted to each other. I can feel a bond slowly forming, Jim, even though I did not initiate it. Can you feel it too?"
Jim feels something tug at him, the feeling too pleasant to be a jerk. "Yes."
"And you want this as well?"
Jim melts against Spock's mental hold, reaching at his errant thoughts of affection and pulling them close, curling around them. He breathes, his tone happy, content, and awed all at the same time. "Yes, Spock. Yes."
After that, it's a whirlwind of emotions for Jim, the majority of which is pleasure. There's no desperation, none of the impatience in physical stimulation. In the meld, there's only pleasure and sincerity and raw emotion. When Spock finally slips them out of it, he's satisfied and his emotions still linger, scattered in different parts of his body and shooting all around his mind. It's a wonder how Spock can make him feel this way, so vulnerable and yielding and ready for anything; that's the thought that stays adrift in Jim's mind as he slowly submits to sleep, along with the intention to do this more often in the future.
Think of the possibilities, Jim explores. Like when he's had enough from work or when he needs to take a fucking anxiety pill but won't because that's just who he is, he can just ask Spock to do this and he's back to normal again. Or the whole telepathy thing, they could use that in away missions. It's all very cool, but maybe that's just Jim's overly hyper sleepy talk says. He isn't really sure. Maybe he'll know tomorrow. He's Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. He has fanfuckingtastic memory so nope, he isn't gonna forget this thought process or how vulgar he gets when he's about to doze off in the morning. Right? Right.
***
It is very cool, Jim decides, when they discover that they can have a telepathic conversation without touching. It takes Jim by surprise when he's changing into his uniform after they take a shower together. He's fixing his hair, grinning stupidly at his reflection and chanting t'hy'la repeatedly under his breath, getting used to it.
You must stress the second syllable more, Jim, he hears, and he almost drops his comb in surprise. He looks around the bathroom, his eyes widening when he sees that there's no one there.
"Spock?" he calls, uncertain.
I am speaking to you through our bond, Spock says. Thinks, whatever.
You didn't tell me about this, Jim whines. This is so cool.
I did not think it was likely to happen. Our bond is only starting to form, Jim. I assumed we would only be able to sense each other's surface thoughts and emotions.
Huh. Jim starts to comb his hair again, slowly. Why is that?
I think it has to do with the intensity of our t'hy'la bond. It is rare on Vulcan and even rarer that it is documented.
So this thing that we can do, this is just the start? There's more?
Indeed. Jim can feel Spock's hesitation as a hum vibrating around the bond. We must go to New Vulcan if we wish to have a full bond.
Jim smiles, envisions a ball of love, care and reassurance, and pushes it towards the bond. I'll ask Uhura later.
Thank you, Jim.
When they eat at the mess, they sit beside each other, close enough to elicit a groan from everyone who comes to sit at their table. Sulu and Chekov send them knowing smiles while Nyota and Rand roll their eyes before getting into a whispered conversation in which they giggle of all things. Bones, as usual, breaks into a flurry of curses and grumbles of goddamn it, now I have to deal with these lovesick idiots. Scotty and Carol are pretty much normal, fawning over the ship's nacelles, and Carol's uber secret project that only the two of them, plus Spock, know about. Jim makes a mental note to ask Spock about it later. It's a loud thought, apparently, because Spock sends Jim an amused It is a confidential matter, Captain.
Jim glances at his first officer. Isn't there anything I can do to convince you to tell me?
Spock's mouth turns up into a small smile. Perhaps.
Of course, Jim blushes. It doesn't matter that he's 26; he turns into a teenager with a high school crush when it comes to Spock. Everyone sees it and suddenly he and Spock are under speculation. Spock takes it all in stride, keeping up his blank face and Vulcan brand of avoidance. Jim takes to bowing his head to hide his even redder face, whining and trying to get their attention away from him.
It doesn't work, of course, and the only time they stop is when they're on the bridge for alpha shift.
"Uhura, send Starfleet a request for the Enterprise to visit New Vulcan." Jim tries to keep his face straight when Uhura outright smiles. "No need to label it urgent."
"Yes, Captain."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. Sulu, are we ready to go?"
"The ship is at optimal status, Captain. The coordinates for starbase 1 are in. Engineering is ready with warp factor 4."
Jim settles on his chair and takes a peek at Spock. His first officer turns and raises an eyebrow at him. Jim?
His smile reaches his eyes when he replies. Hey. Sorry, sentimentality hits me at the worst times.
You do not wish to leave Ardana because it is where we, as you say, got together?
I know. It's silly. I'll give Sulu the okay now. Jim faces forward again but he doesn't even get to open his mouth because Spock sends him another thought.
It is not a surprising reaction, Jim. However, when we do go to New Vulcan, it will be remembered as the place where we bonded. There is that to look forward too as well.
Jim smiles. I love you.
And I, you.
"All right, Lieutenant. Punch it."
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