LoveBrilliantScars (Star Trek XI, Kirk/Spock)
Written for st_xi_kink request: Kirk/Spock - years down the line nu!Kirk begins to lose his youthful physique. Spock reassures him that he's still amazing. I hope I captured the essence of this prompt for you, anon. ^_^
Title: LoveBrilliantScars
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Kirk & Spock belong to each other. Everything else belongs to Paramount.
LoveBrilliantScars
by Renata Lord (snowlight)
*
Sometimes James Kirk thinks he's lost some of it. It probably started when people stopped joking around him about how he wasn't getting any younger.
As it is, Bones lectures him about it every time he goes for a routine physical: even with the best of technologies, he is long past the age when his body could regenerate its cells in full. Every encounter leaves him a little bit more worn out, a step closer to being unrepairable. The scars no longer fade but remain on his now-sallow skin, crisscrossing like a map of all the times he was touched by death.
It's made harder because his partner hasn't aged nearly as much, thanks to the damn Vulcan physiology. No hope in hell for them to take after those merry grandpas who drink margaritas together on Florida beaches. (He wouldn't want to retire, and Spock would probably object to wearing Hawaiian shirts. But more importantly, he would look his age and Spock would look like his boytoy, or something. And that would be wrong. Very hot, but wrong.)
Once in a while, a newcomer is surprised to hear that him and Spock have served together for almost all their careers. There tends to be a little pause, a subtle double take, then comes the realization. He's used to it by now, mostly.
Then there are times that Jim can't get used to. For example, when they are like this, naked flesh pressed against naked flesh. The Vulcan skin remains smooth and pliant under his touch, slightly damp from perspiration. Spock's head seems to be comfortably rested on his bare chest, and for a while he lets his fingers play around in the dark hairless than immaculately shaped now, but as lustrous as it was on the day when they faced each other stark naked for the first time, unashamed and swept away by desire.
It was so long ago, yet every frame of it is etched onto his memory in a perfect replica. He remembers marveling at Spock's body; the shapes, the contours, and even the different shades of pale. Spock was built like a Greek god, if Greek gods could have Vulcan blood in them. And the pure hunger in those black eyes had told him everything he needed to knowthat despite whatever rein over emotion that he supposedly had, Spock had wanted him every bit just as much.
He can't see Spock's eyes right now. It troubles him somehow.
But Spock's hand is caressing his chest, doing wicked little things: drawing lines, pressing into the sagging skin, doing what he refers to as finger kissing. He feels the firm warmth of Spock's palm on his rib cage and exhales sharplythere is a huge scar there from the Anatolia Incident, one that never quite healed.
Jim, what is on your mind?
"...what did I tell you about doing that?" he tries to sound offended but fails.
Forgive me, the voice transmitted is apologetic but calm. I merely sensed that you were less than content. Did my touch displease you?
"No, don't be ridiculous," he answers before he could lie about it, "it's the scars, that's all. I can be pretty vain when I want to, you know." (...and he really shouldn't shiver like this when Spock touches him. Why does he always let Spock get away with things like that?)
But your scars serve a purpose. Another kiss, this time on his heart. There is a faint scar there, too. A gift from the Klingon Ambassador. They remind me of all the triumphs and tribulations you endured to become the man you are now.
"And what kind of man do you see?" Jim Kirk asks, half curious and half playing coy.
Tilting up his head, Spock almost smiles as he chooses to express his thoughts out loud.
"Too proud to dye his hair. Thirty-seven scars, some of them on vital areas. Numerous wrinkles, mostly from laughing. Still impulsive and ill-tempered when provoked. Snores terribly at night and drools a little. Gained weight from last birthday, again for the third time."
"I have NOT gained weight! My birthday was just a month ago!"
The indignant protest is silenced by a kiss as Spock leans over, soft lips all eager and tender.
Do not forget: Your scars are mine, t'hy'la, as are the lines that the years have left on your face.
*
Finis
A/N: I am quite aware that in TOS/the earlier movies, K&S aged at roughly the same pace. However, Spock Prime's appearance in XI at age 100+ raised to me the possibility that Vulcans age significantly slower than humans do. Hey, alt universe/timeline, gotta love it.
Title: LoveBrilliantScars
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Kirk & Spock belong to each other. Everything else belongs to Paramount.
LoveBrilliantScars
by Renata Lord (snowlight)
*
Sometimes James Kirk thinks he's lost some of it. It probably started when people stopped joking around him about how he wasn't getting any younger.
As it is, Bones lectures him about it every time he goes for a routine physical: even with the best of technologies, he is long past the age when his body could regenerate its cells in full. Every encounter leaves him a little bit more worn out, a step closer to being unrepairable. The scars no longer fade but remain on his now-sallow skin, crisscrossing like a map of all the times he was touched by death.
It's made harder because his partner hasn't aged nearly as much, thanks to the damn Vulcan physiology. No hope in hell for them to take after those merry grandpas who drink margaritas together on Florida beaches. (He wouldn't want to retire, and Spock would probably object to wearing Hawaiian shirts. But more importantly, he would look his age and Spock would look like his boytoy, or something. And that would be wrong. Very hot, but wrong.)
Once in a while, a newcomer is surprised to hear that him and Spock have served together for almost all their careers. There tends to be a little pause, a subtle double take, then comes the realization. He's used to it by now, mostly.
Then there are times that Jim can't get used to. For example, when they are like this, naked flesh pressed against naked flesh. The Vulcan skin remains smooth and pliant under his touch, slightly damp from perspiration. Spock's head seems to be comfortably rested on his bare chest, and for a while he lets his fingers play around in the dark hairless than immaculately shaped now, but as lustrous as it was on the day when they faced each other stark naked for the first time, unashamed and swept away by desire.
It was so long ago, yet every frame of it is etched onto his memory in a perfect replica. He remembers marveling at Spock's body; the shapes, the contours, and even the different shades of pale. Spock was built like a Greek god, if Greek gods could have Vulcan blood in them. And the pure hunger in those black eyes had told him everything he needed to knowthat despite whatever rein over emotion that he supposedly had, Spock had wanted him every bit just as much.
He can't see Spock's eyes right now. It troubles him somehow.
But Spock's hand is caressing his chest, doing wicked little things: drawing lines, pressing into the sagging skin, doing what he refers to as finger kissing. He feels the firm warmth of Spock's palm on his rib cage and exhales sharplythere is a huge scar there from the Anatolia Incident, one that never quite healed.
Jim, what is on your mind?
"...what did I tell you about doing that?" he tries to sound offended but fails.
Forgive me, the voice transmitted is apologetic but calm. I merely sensed that you were less than content. Did my touch displease you?
"No, don't be ridiculous," he answers before he could lie about it, "it's the scars, that's all. I can be pretty vain when I want to, you know." (...and he really shouldn't shiver like this when Spock touches him. Why does he always let Spock get away with things like that?)
But your scars serve a purpose. Another kiss, this time on his heart. There is a faint scar there, too. A gift from the Klingon Ambassador. They remind me of all the triumphs and tribulations you endured to become the man you are now.
"And what kind of man do you see?" Jim Kirk asks, half curious and half playing coy.
Tilting up his head, Spock almost smiles as he chooses to express his thoughts out loud.
"Too proud to dye his hair. Thirty-seven scars, some of them on vital areas. Numerous wrinkles, mostly from laughing. Still impulsive and ill-tempered when provoked. Snores terribly at night and drools a little. Gained weight from last birthday, again for the third time."
"I have NOT gained weight! My birthday was just a month ago!"
The indignant protest is silenced by a kiss as Spock leans over, soft lips all eager and tender.
Do not forget: Your scars are mine, t'hy'la, as are the lines that the years have left on your face.
*
Finis
A/N: I am quite aware that in TOS/the earlier movies, K&S aged at roughly the same pace. However, Spock Prime's appearance in XI at age 100+ raised to me the possibility that Vulcans age significantly slower than humans do. Hey, alt universe/timeline, gotta love it.